The Pinnacle Warrior

Astrid felt her heart clenching in her chest as flashes of weeping families in Schteldt’s Guild’s inn filled her mind. Remembering Guinevere‘s tear-streaked face as she begged for help, and how, despite her best efforts, Astrid hadn’t been able to do anything for her friend. Before she could start to hyperventilate, though, Klara continued.

“Now that I have your attention, I’m going to help you to understand that it isn’t as serious as I just made it sound. This is the Dungeon proper, not our branch, that’s experiencing the surge. The entrance to the particular section of the Dungeon proper that’s experiencing the surge is somewhere far beyond our borders, and there isn’t going to be an increase in the number of gnolls or their levels here. As such, the only notable impact will be a continued increase in irregulars in our branch of the Dungeon as the Dungeon proper’s drake mana flows more into our branch. There won’t be any monsters spawning on the surface, and there won’t be any notable increase in the monsters’ spawn rates. This has been verified by three Dungeoneers of different tiers over the past month.”

Astrid heard the collective size of relief, and her own voice in voluntarily joining them as Klara smirked a little from having deceived, or maybe just surprised, all of the delvers. While the whispered words of panic changed to relieved and slightly frustrated grumbles, Klara raised her hand again. Everyone went silent as her fingers flashed with a white light and she continued.

“The guards that we’ve had stationed at the passage into the Dungeon proper have been bothered and attacked by foreign nationals, mostly Kin. There haven’t been any casualties on either side as of yet, but the pressure is ramping up. As such, the Steel tiered party named Silver Wind will be coming. They’ll be camping in the Dungeon branch where the entrance to the Dungeon proper is, so you won’t see them here in the inn while they’re here. Those of you who enter into the fourth floor will probably see them as well as the other, Iron tiered party that’s been assigned here. They will be making themselves known though, so that way if you see a particularly powerful person who’s a stranger, you’ll know it is not them. The Silver Wind will be arriving overnight, so in the morning, all of you will be required to report down here right around daybreak, so that Silver Wind can introduce themselves before they eat and get down into the Dungeon.

“For those of you who are delving to the fourth floor, you can earn small rewards for carrying supplies down to our allies. If you want more details about that, you can ask either Anders or myself. We’ll be able to give you details of how much it will weigh and pay, but know that it won’t be particularly lucrative, only a small extra incentive to ensure that the Silver Wind is well fed while they are helping us out here. In general, there shouldn’t be much of a difference in the way that you delve, beyond additional caution being necessary. On the first floor, there will probably be one to three irregular brawlers appearing each day. They’ll be the same level as the gnolls whose mana has been mutated by the Dungeon proper’s mana, so level 6 or 7. Just like the rest of the gnolls on that floor, they’ll probably be asleep or resting. The mana density overflow won’t allow the rangers to be mutated on the first floor, but starting on the second floor, there will be irregular rangers. For those of you on the second floor who are not absolutely sure in your ability to deal with an irregular ranger, I would suggest that you stay on the first floor until you’re positive. The difference in danger that a ranger poses as opposed to a brawler is incomparable.

“That covers the two main points, as well as the one additional point that I wished to address. In general, life should continue much the same as it has for you. However, I will again caution any of you who are just barely going into the next floor, whichever floor it is, to ensure that you know what you are getting yourselves into. On the third floor, there should be at least 10 irregulars spawning a day, and twice that on the fourth. Irregular Bosses will appear probably once a week on the fifth floor for at least the next month, though I suspect it’ll be around two months. None of you are particularly close to closing in on the Boss anymore, so I would caution against being so foolhardy as to rush to the fifth floor and getting yourselves killed because you heard that you’re gonna make some money. To keep any of you from being blindsided from the amount of money that this will pay you, an irregular boss will pay out well over one gold, not counting the rest of its pack. For anybody in Kznietch who’s actively delving, that is a good amount of money. Now that you’ve heard that, listen to this.

“If any of you attempt to fight this Boss, you and your party will all die. Every single one of you.”

Maybe it was just in her head, but Astrid imagined she could see Klara specifically making eye contact with Astrid and her party. The Guild’s representative let that declaration hang in the air for several seconds, the somewhat excited voices that’d filled the air as she’d spoken again going quiet in the wake of her declaration of death. Once she was sure that her warning had been heeded, Klara spoke again.

“We’ve had enough deaths here recently. I never want to have to deal with that again, so please, please, be careful.”

With those closing words, Klara strode through the room towards Astrid’s party, and when she stood beside them, she forced a small smile as she asked, “You have something for me to evaluate?”

***

After processing the materials and getting their payment, Astrid and the party looked to sit down and take a break in the warm, well-lit communal space of the inn, but Klara put a stop to any of those plans when she asked that they come to speak with her in her office. Benedict looked, quite frankly, terrified, but the rest did their best to keep from allowing any nerves to overcome them. Once in her office, Klara sat behind her desk and steepled her fingers in front of her.

“You five are probably pretty close to getting to the fourth floor, right?”

“You’re not looking to mince words, are you?” Astrid forced a tone of joviality as she said as much. “We were thinking to do so. Muti, Skandr, and I have been level 10 for a couple days, and these two just hit level 8, so we figured it’s probably about that time. Should we not, given that there will be so many irregulars spawning in the next couple days?”

Klara let out a long, slow sigh. “Tomorrow, you should see at least three irregulars in regular delving on the third floor. I know you’re not clearing the entire floor, it’s way too big for that, but you’re almost definitely going to see at least that many, maybe more. I also know that you fought against two at the same time before, but it’ll be better for you and for the party in general to make sure that all five of you have experience fighting multiple irregulars at once. After all, the fourth floor is where the packs can grow to 15 at the same time, and, despite my faith in you five in general, that will be a real test for you if there’s an irregular of each type in that pack.”

“That makes tons of sense to me.” Benedict laughed nervously as he said it. “I think that we should probably stick around on the third floor for a couple more days at least, right? Make sure that we know what we’re doing?”

Klara didn’t say anything, though she did make specific eye contact with each delver. She remained silent, obviously letting each individual come to their own conclusions and decisions. After a few seconds, the party looked at each other.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Felix was the first to speak after Benedict’s previous fearful speech. “I took a pretty bad hit against just a single irregular shaman, and though I’ve gained a level now, I’m not stupid enough to think that that’ll make me unkillable. Taking time to get more and more used to killing irregulars, especially against a ranger, which we haven’t fought yet as a party, will make me a lot more comfortable getting onto the fourth floor. There, we’ll be able to push ourselves, once we’re more familiar with it all, right?”

Of course, Muti grimaced and ground her teeth, but she didn’t say anything. Despite her lust for violence and bloodshed, she was no fool. Skandr met Astrid’s eyes and said simply, “I don’t think we really need to have more of a discussion about this, do we?”

“No, we don’t. We’ll stick to the third floor for now, and if we’re still finding it as simple as we are now, then we’ll move onto the fourth before too long.”

“Sounds good.“ Klara clapped her hands, cutting through the quiet conversation. “On an unrelated note, I’m glad you have been able to pay off your debts completely. I’m sorry that my idea of maintaining some measure of debt was totally off the mark. At least, despite having paid much more to your lenders than you would have in any other situation, you seem to be in a good situation for your equipment. Though, if you’d gotten those gauntlets you were looking at before, Astrid, I bet you would have slowly decided to give them to Felix here, wouldn’t you?”

“Bah.“ Astrid waved off Klara‘s words with an annoyed sound. Despite the representative being almost certainly correct, Astrid was not willing to say as much. Instead, she gave a lazy salute to the representative and walked out. As soon as she was out, she realized what she had just done with acting so sloppily, and heard her mother’s chastisement in her head. Was she being sloppy now, or was she just changing away from being a little girl raised by a soldier? The thoughts swirled in her head, but they weren’t her focus. Without thinking further, she walked out into the inn, gesturing to Tomas to signal that she was going to be eating a double serving of meat and stew tonight as she strode to an empty table.

“Thanks for not pushing us to keep going deeper.” Felix said as he slid into one of the chairs. “I think that would’ve been a recipe for disaster.“

“I think so too.“ Astrid shrugged as she looked for the food to come towards her. It’d only been a minute, so she knew there was no chance of it coming so soon, but she still wanted it.“If I pushed you two into the fourth floor right now, there would definitely be serious wounds, if not worse. That’s just not worth it, because I want to be delving with you in the long-term, not just for now. No reason to make stupid decisions to make slightly faster progress. After all, I’m pretty sure it’ll only be another week or so before we are all ready to get down to the fourth floor. Skandr, Muti, and I will effectively be level 11 at that point, and with another watershed crossed, we’ll be in good shape to take on the brunt of the difficulties, maybe even carry you two through them.”

“Well, if you’re offering to do so—”

“Despite anything Benedict says,” Felix cut the Bard off with a glare, “we both need practice more than experience, you know?”

Though Benedict grumbled, he also didn’t disagree with what Felix said. Instead, he merely shrugged briefly and then turned to look for his meal just like Astrid was.

“Yeah, you’re right. I was mostly joking, but everybody knows that getting carried through the Dungeon to get more and more levels doesn’t turn out well for anybody who actually wants to delve.“

“I knew a guy where I grew up who did that.“ Benedict said as he turned his attention away from the bar. “Was level 50, but couldn’t pass his Class Quest. Didn’t even have a good Class, it was just a straight tier upgrade, but his Skills and abilities were so terrible that he couldn’t get to level 51.“

The other four looked at him, waiting for the rest of the story, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe 10 seconds later, Skandr grunted, “For a Bard, you’re a pretty bad storyteller.”

Benedict narrowed his eyes at the Lightningmage. Skandr didn’t care, instead saying, “If you disagree, prove me wrong.”

With pursed lips, Benedict took a deep breath and began to tell a story. “Once upon a time, there was an arrogant prick named Sillypants. Not only was he so arrogant that he thought he was the Great One’s gift to delving, he was also convinced that everyone else around him lived only to serve him. This was, of course, the fault of his parents, who doted and spoiled him at every moment from the time he was born. They gave him every toy, every experience, every possible thing that money and influence could buy. They also gave him no training because, as he said, that was no fun. And so, as the years went by, he grew more and more convinced in his inevitable conquest of the Dungeon itself, reaching the lowest levels and reaching beyond the Arcanite tier. Yes, he would be the first person to plumb the greatest depths of the world and bring back news and materials that no mortal eye had ever seen.

“When he was finally bestowed with the Fighter Class, he considered it to be beneath him. After all, a mere, regular combat Class, one without any bonuses to magic, which he was sure to have deserved? Yes, he didn’t need to work to gain any skill with a blade, shield, or even stave. Instead of such a mundane way, he could use his parents’ wealth to pay for Iron delvers to carry him through high Bronze tier Dungeon branches. That would give him plenty of experience, would show the Great One that he was far greater than the weak regular Fighters, wouldn’t it? He swore to friend, family, and foe that he would show the world how he could bend even the Great One to his whim.

“Upon his evolution to Iron tier, there was no Class offer that could even begin to approach what he felt he deserved, and he turned once again to his mother and father, demanding that they bankroll his path through the next 30 levels, where, at Steel, he’d finally get the Class he deserved. Despite their assets already dwindling due to Sillypants’s prodigal lifestyle, they knew that he would prove worth it, and they sold their mansion and their business to fund his growth to Steel. Surely that would be the appointed time in which the Great One would acknowledge his greatness! Unfortunately, this is not a story of Gideon Lightspear, Anya Swiftblade, or Petr Earthshield. No, this is the story of Sillypant Fighter, the fool who thought himself capable of buying the Great One’s grace.

“With self-satisfaction and determination, Sillypants led his hired party of Steel tiered delvers into Dungeons branches far beyond his level, places where he could do nothing more than point imperiously in the direction of the next monster to vanquish. And, with each point of his finger, monsters died, and he gained experience. It wouldn’t be long before he showed everyone, wouldn’t it? After all, he was chosen of the Great One to be the Herald of a New Age, a time in which humanity claimed the remainder of the surface of the world and beat back every one of the foreign species to the corners where they belonged!

“But why has nobody heard of Sillypants when he obviously should have been sung about by every Bard, recorded by every Scribe, and adored by every Human? Because he is a fool. The Great One does not listen to fools, nor does it brook stupidity. Instead, Sillypants quickly learned that, regardless of how many orders he gave or how imperiously he commanded his troops, the Great One saw that he was nothing but a fool. When finally he reached level 50, had gained all of the thousands of experience, necessary to progress… He was offered two classes. One, a mere, continuation of the Fighter Class, unremarkable in title, attributes, and Skill boosts. The other was a complete Class change, one beyond that of a Fighter, just the one that he had always been looking for!

“But this… it was not the Class he desired. For Sillypants was no Fool. Regardless of the title of the Class that was offered to him, he was no fool! Desperate, Sillypants, selected Fighter for his evolved Class, desperately throwing away any accusation from the Great One that he was a fool for all that he had done, and he saw the requirements. Requirements that demanded that he act for himself, that he delve by himself, that he fight and kill for himself. This… was something that he refused to do. He wished he’d chosen the Fool Class, that he’d taken the other option granted to him, but it was too late. And then, as Sillypants returned to a city where his parents had no home and he had no respect, everybody learned that Sillypants was not just a fool, but a coward. No more experience has he gained, and no Class beyond Iron has he earned.”

Benedict finished as he huffed and settled into his chair. Halfway through the tale, the food was brought to their table, but he’d been absorbed in his storytelling. Now, he took a deep swig from his beer and bowed in a sarcastic fashion. “Is that enough for you?”

“I want another!”

“Damn, you’re good!”

“You have any other stories?”

A chorus of voices answered Benedict, and he flushed as he saw that, with his voice raised and carrying through the room, most of the other delvers had listened to his story, and then, when he seemed to receive an experience notification, he turned his attention to his surroundings. Astrid grinned as he sunk into his chair, having gained experience as a Bard, not just a delver.