The Pinnacle Warrior

Skandr

Despite all of his posturing, Skandr was scared that he wasn’t going to be able to live up to what he said. What specifically? All of it. He talked a bigger game than he really deserved to. After all, he felt most days like he wasn’t doing much to contribute to the party. Sure, he slowed down groups of enemies and did a little damage, and days like today when they ran into a really large pack he could do more, but he still felt inadequate. A part of him repeated again and again that he wasn’t, and that he shouldn’t let himself slip into that thought, but that didn’t matter. While his mind fought to focus on that, instead, he focused on the fight.

Muti had demanded that she get her level today as well before running off, and he had to tamp down his jealousy at the thought. He had no reservation on exclusivity for being the only person to gain a level today. Despite knowing that consciously, he also realized that emotionally, that wasn’t how he felt. Frankly, he was a little upset that Muti was being pushy about this. She could gain a level tomorrow and it’d be basically the same for her, different from what he was getting right now.

Story of his life, he supposed. Understanding things intellectually while his emotions always got in the way. Like desperation for a grimoire. Or hope for allies in shady places. Or anger at how he’d been mistreated.

He purposefully directed some of the lightning on his fingers into his forearm, the pain jolting him from his spiraling. Muti had pulled herself out of the party and then she’d thrown herself at the back line of this pack of gnolls. She needed about 100 experience, so to get the level, she only needed to kill five of the gnolls. There were 14 of the monsters, so Skandr quickly adjusted the formula for his lightning curtain spell to ensure that the potency was enhanced at the cost of casting time. His Spellcraft and Mana Manipulation Skills did most of the heavy work in that, though while the Skills made the minute adjustments necessary to cast the spell, he also felt that his mind just wasn’t quite quick enough to adjust exactly how he wanted. Regardless of any frustrations, the formula was quickly adjusted, and he twisted his fingers into the sigils to create the spell.

Words in a language he didn’t truly understand tumbled from his lips, each one falling gracefully as his body’s capabilities strained to push the spell to its greatest limits. Just over two seconds later, the calculation and incantation was complete, and Skandr mentally marked which of the targets he wanted the spell to strike. That was a stroke of inspiration that he was particularly proud of, the way to individually target with the spell instead of using merely a blanket area to have the lightning fall from. The twisting of the klaush formula had been genius. He pushed the requisite mana into his hand as he cast the spell, and ribbons of lightning danced from his hands and into the air. Even though the spell itself directed the way the lightning bolts fell, Skandr himself could and did add some influence of his own into the spell to ensure that the individual bolts of lightning landed where he most wanted and needed them.

10 seconds later, the spell had run its course, and Skandr kept his attention on the pack. In the back, Muti had already killed three rangers and was working on the fourth. The fifth and final ranger was turning to create some distance from the Rogue, and Skandr sent a pair of Lightning Bolts its way to slow it. The nearly instantaneous flashes of lightning that crashed into the monster‘s chest made him smile, though the way that its attention then turned to him was significantly less reassuring. He could trust in his armor for the most part, but on this level, the gnolls were accurate enough to hit people in the head instead of just in the body, and his skull, though thicker than most, remained more than vulnerable enough to be pierced by an arrow.

He didn’t need to worry, though, because as he ran to the side and a bit further away from the monster, Astrid and Felix continued what they were doing while Benedict slipped a little bit to the side. The first time that the Bard had done that, Skandr hadn’t known what to do, but now, he watched as, while continuing to use Quickened Step, Benedict blew a single long, sharp note on his flute and somehow sent it directly and solely to that ranger. It reeled, and Skandr knew that it would be out of commission for long enough for Muti to come and deal with it.

Meanwhile, Astrid was dealing crippling but not killing blows to every gnoll that came near her. The two irregular brawlers in the pack had both of their knees already broken, but she had taken the opportunity to kill the shaman even though it was normal. A few times that the party had neglected to kill the shamans had been more than enough to convince them to never do that again. The buffs that shaman auras gave to the pack as a whole were too impactful to leave alone. That Astrid was able to dispatch the shaman while also holding off the attacks of the two irregular brawlers and the shaman itself at the same time was, frankly, frightening.

Every day, the Warrior showed greater capacities for violence, and she could take just as much punishment as she could give. That Quick Recovery skill of hers took her from impressive and intimidating to downright terrifying. She was going to be upgrading that Skill in the next couple of days, and that too was scary to think about. All the better that he’d decided to not make a fool out of himself that day when they begun delving together. Of course, he’d been drunk for the first part of their meeting, but at least he’d had the good sense to get himself cleansed before continuing the conversation. For a moment, Skandr remembered the first time that he’d seen her turn her violence on a person. That view of Astrid beating Muti down interposed itself with the view of the Warrior currently smashing her hammer and shield into every monster knee that she could reach. His own fear of her whirling on him. It wasn’t exactly fair to have accused her the way he did, but it wasn’t wrong either. He said things he regretted, and he trusted her, planned on continuing to delve with her, but he would always remember the burning fury in her eye, whether it was merited or not.

A short while later, before the last of the monsters were killed, Muti glowed faintly as the Great One pulled her past the level 11 watershed. Skandr grinned as the Barbarian whooped in joy, and Astrid strode forward.

“You’re not allowed to kill any more of them. You neither, Skandr. We gave you guys extra experience, now we get to take out the rest of them.”

For his part, Skandr didn’t mind turning away from the site of the large women’s steel hammer head destroying bones and organs. The sounds still filled the area, but the sight of viscera exploding from being crushed like that was disturbing, especially how easily Astrid did it all day every day. Instead, Skandr easily focused instead on his prospective spells that he’d been drafting. He didn’t have any of the formulas in front of him, but that was actually better for visualization and improvement. Instead of looking at what he’d already learned didn’t work, he instead entertained the thoughts of how the concept of the spells was supposed to work and in what ways his formulas might have been incorrect.

His lightning curtain and temporary lightning enchantment were the only two spells that he’d created that he had any confidence in. The rest, one a bastardization of Lightning Reflexes, another a slightly different single person buff that increased Alacrity and damage much more than Lightning Reflexes and an enchantment put together, and even a flying spell, each one had lost life even before the first sparks of possibility had appeared. He let his mind flick through different possibilities, how different sigils would interact with the chants and formulas as his knife cut through the ears of the gnolls. Not thinking about what he was doing helped to keep his stomach steady.

Before long, the fight and cleanup was all complete, and the party was back on their way to the stairs to the third floor. Astrid was saying something to Muti about how she’d put the party in danger for a selfish reason, which was true, but Skandr didn’t care to listen. Instead, he continued to think about different spells, what he would like to do, what he wanted to be able to do for his party, and what he wanted to be able to do in the longer term as he climbed through the ranks, to Steel, which was beyond his dreams before. He’d only thought of himself as capable of reaching Iron, but now, he looked further than he’d dared before. Before long, they found themselves in the stairway to the third floor, and Astrid and Muti cleared the way all the way up, ensuring that there would be no unwelcome surprises lurking around any corners.

Meanwhile, the other three members of the party set up camp in the stairs, a somewhat uncomfortable affair. The stairs were about 2 meters across, so, wide enough for most of the party to lay sideways, but the stairs were too narrow for one person to lay on them. Instead, each person had brought a hammock that, with the included screws, could be fastened into the walls of the dungeon. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable setup, but it was a lot better than sleeping on the floor, and, again, Skandr welcomed the opportunity to continue to be lost in his own thoughts preparatory to this inspiration. Once or twice, Felix had tried to say something to him, but Benedict had pulled the Bodyguard’s attention away to let Felix continue to consider his immediate future.

Then, in what seemed to be no time at all, Astrid and Muti returned with news that there were no gnolls to be found in the entire stairway. That wasn’t really surprising, considering the fact that the monsters typically wouldn’t be climbing the stairs in relatively peaceful times like this, but it was worth checking nonetheless. There wasn’t much time before Skandr was finally left with no option but to choose his Skill to upgrade and the faint twisting in his stomach grew stronger. As he’d said, he was going to choose Spellcraft, but he was still nervous. It had always been his plan to do so, but now that Ursula had told him that this was potentially going to be a key moment for him, he couldn’t bring himself to be as lackadaisical towards it as he had thought he could be before. Instead, he settled himself into a comfortable sitting position with his notebook on hand, ready to take notes as inspiration struck him, as well as to focus his mind, hoping to ensure that he wasn’t wasting the opportunity.

As he selected the Skill and the Great one upgraded his first Skill to Bronze, Skandr expected to have a wave of inspiration strike him, and he’d need to fight to understand even a single thing. Instead, he continued thinking about his spells and a couple small tweaks occurred to him only with regards to the formation of lightning curtain. Disappointed, he almost disregarded the inspiration, but instead, he wrote down the slight adjustments in the formulae as his inspiration dictated.

Then, as he wrote it down, he realized what the implication of that adjustment and its efficiencies would mean when applied to his lightning javelin plans, something he’d mostly disregarded for now. He scribbled madly, his face covered in a broad grin.

***

Muti

There was no inspiration needed for her. The soft Lightningmage with his nervous laughter and hesitant eyes lost himself in his book. His scribblings were sure to benefit the party, much as Muti was loathe to admit it. After all, she suspected that his attribute distribution was superior to every other member of the party’s. He was perfectly well suited for his role, and despite his softness, he was dedicated to filling his niche as best as he could manage.

Seeing him reach level 11 had made Muti’s need for competition flare up. She had officially Bound herself to Astrid and Skandr, and she did not regret that, but she needed to continue to prove herself as a worthy companion to them every day. Despite being held back by her Race, Astrid was an incredible Warrior. She broke stone like water, wood like steel, and bones like ferocity. Muti saw in the woman why she herself was not a Warrior. Muti lacked the discipline, the strength, and the ability to fill in whatever position was needed by her Bound. Instead, she’d, in a moment of excitement and fear of being left behind, thrown herself selfishly at another pack of monsters because she saw one of her fellows progress faster than her.

What an embarrassment.

There were only two options for her at this watershed. Thrown Weapons and Primal Sense. Both would be Bronze before she evolved to Iron, but she knew which she would have chosen one month ago, and which she would choose now. She still wanted to kill everything in her path. Yes, Muti wanted and would be a whirlwind of destruction. There was no reason to lie, she would become someone that would hunt and kill everything her heart desired. Instead of indulging in that dream for now, Muti considered what her party needed. They didn’t need her to be able to throw her swords a little better. Nor did they want to buy bandoliers of knives to throw at whatever offended her. Instead, they needed to have known earlier when they were being attacked. They deserved to know that the treacherous assassins were there when they attacked. In truth, Muti’s own survival was a fluke, and the Rogue did not allow herself to forget that.

She selected Primal Sense. As her body shifted, she took a deep scent of the Dungeon. Now, more than ever, she could smell mana. The root of all strength, mana, suffused the Dungeon in a way that the world aboveground couldn’t understand. As she felt the mana flow into her lungs, and then out, Muti could also hear slight rustlings on both sides of the staircase, the top and the bottom. The artificial wind, the movement of mana as it flowed through the Dungeon, rustled the fields. In the turning staircase, she couldn’t see much, but Muti knew that she would be able to see even more clearly than before now. Fortunately, her sense of touch would not be enhanced when it came to being inflicted with pain, though now she would be able to more easily tell which meat she was fed was from monsters, and which was from regular animals. After all, the taste of mana was subtle but prevalent.

Suddenly, with a thought, she groaned. Knowing that that was unlike her, Astrid turned to her with concern.

“What’s the matter?”

“The smell.”

Astrid didn’t react much to that, though after cocking her head for answers and receiving nothing, she seemed to shrug it off as another one of the strange things that the Barbarian sometimes said. Muti couldn’t keep her lip from curling as she realized she’d have to walk through, and live in town with her increased sense of smell. The scent of feces, urine, sweat, and so much Humanity all stuck together. She shook her head, but she had no choice. She continued to push herself to familiarize herself with this new Skill. After all, she refused to be left behind.