The Pinnacle Warrior

After glancing through and seeing the change to her Status, Astrid smiled as she followed the rest on their way back to Purcell. With how far they had to travel through the branch to get there, she was able to use Quick Recovery again to return the vast majority of mobility to her back, letting her walk without pain. Striding through the hills while carrying enough kilos of loose metal to activate the secondary effect of Steady Load was hard enough to count as training when she was healthy to say nothing of her current state. As her body recovered, Astrid walked ever more confidently, unafraid of straining her back with every step. The sensation of her own crusted blood all down the back of her left leg remained deeply unpleasant, but she was long since used to the day-to-day discomforts involved in being a delver. After all, it had been, what, a year and a half since her Bestowal? And, ever since then, she’d probably spent a significant portion of nine out of 10 days in the Dungeon. She didn’t take breaks from the Dungeon, so she was used to what happened there.

Again, she was reminded of how much she had changed in such a short time. Her expectations, her actions, and her mind as a nearly 20 year old all weren’t those of the 18 year old version of herself. Where was that excited girl who was already planning her Skill selections all the way to Mithril? Now, much later than that girl had planned, she was only nearly at the final watershed of bronze. The comparison between her expectations and her reality was almost crushing, but then Astrid looked at her for companions. Three of them, the her of yesteryear would be unsurprised to find beside her. Sure, she’d had plans of who her party would be made up of, but three people with Skills and Classes well suited for delving were, of course, unsurprising to have at her side. The fourth was just a testament to how far her perception had come.

Muti didn’t say anything as she guided the party a little to the left, probably looking to avoid another run–in with orcs when they were all just looking to end this two day delve. Her bright golden hair was mostly contained by her war braid under her helmet, but it did dangle out onto her back where Astrid had braided it. Astrid could see her own blood clotting the club of twisted hair at the bottom, and the scar on her hand where she so frequently reopened the shallow cut she made all those months ago almost throbbed in response. With her Fortitude, she would heal from such small injuries quite quickly, and that was disregarding the effect of Quick Recovery as well. Regardless of the wound itself, Astrid traveled, delved, and fought alongside a Barbarian—a woman from the Hordes’ plains in the south, a woman who wanted to return there because that was the only place she felt she belonged. Beyond that, a friend, and yet still one of the people who belonged to the race that had enslaved her father and her father‘s father and his father‘s father before him.

Yes, things have changed, and Astrid was happy with where she was now. She continued on her path down the hill, excited to finally take a load off once they made their way back into the inn. When, at last, they made their way through the first floor and were ascending the steps to leave the Dungeon, Astrid’s eyes instinctively looked in every direction. It’d been over a month since the last village idiot had decided that throwing rocks at a delver was a good idea, but idiots always found a time to come out of the woodwork, so it paid to be ready. Fortunately, her caution was unwarranted, and the only sight to see was the sturdy stone building that surrounded them. With a nod, Astrid gestured for the rest to follow, and they all naturally settled into position around Muti. Astrid stood in the front, Felix behind, Benedict and Skandr on either side. Muti still chafed at the caution, but it was only necessary while outside of the Guilds territories that it was necessary, so she bore with it. After all, she’d finally been convinced that lethal retaliation to every challenge from every stupid villager was, in fact, the wrong choice to make, and Astrid wasn’t going to test that dedication.

Walking out of the torchlit building, it was obvious that the mage who had been commissioned by the Count who, according to the law, owned this Dungeon branch was skilled in everything except for aesthetics. The large building was solid stone in every direction, nearly a meter thick at every wall. The ceiling was no exception, but the monstrosity was made for function, not for looks. As a result, a massive, 50 meter tall pyramid stood in the center of the city. Purcell had been bestowed on the Count, or so the story went, and from this pyramid, or rather, the Dungeon branch found within its walls, the vast majority of the Count’s wealth came.

“And your payment for the privilege of delving out Count’s Dungeon?“ One of the guards at the door demanded. Skandr snarled as he turned to face the other man.

“You took your damn payment when we went in.  And before you say anything, I know it wasn’t you specifically, but you know that there’s no way we got into the Dungeon without paying the tariff with the honorable Count’s men at the door all hours of every day. It’s always that way. It’s always been that way. It’s always going to be that way. If you try to rob us again, I will report your name, your shift, your appearance, and everything down to the damned clothes you wear. Yes, I’ll take this information to the Guild to ensure that we put our full pressure on the Count to keep you from continuing to attempt to rob us. I’d guess the best way to do this would simply be to ensure you don’t have any opportunities to stand here. Does that sound like it’d work to you?”

Skandr immediately launched into his tirade as if he’d prepared the speech (which he probably had), his responses growing more vehement every time the guards at the doors attempted to fleece them. So far as the party could tell from conversations with other delvers, it seemed that upon seeing two people who, to their eyes, were Barbarians, they couldn’t help themselves.

“No, we’ve given them enough grace. And, unfortunately for Lars and Gregory here, I remember their names!” Benedict didn’t wait either, grinning widely as he leaned in close to each of the guards. The bluster and confidence in their stances very quickly bled away as the men realized that previous bouts of arrogance in which they’d sneered and given their names while disbelieving there was any possibility of receiving punishment from on high, had now come back to bite.

“Well, listen here, we didn’t really—”

“Listen, Lars.” Benedict raised his voice as he said it, calling the attention of a couple passersby. “There’s a message that needs to be sent, and it seems like we’ve found some willing recipients. Sure, you’re both low Iron. That means something in the world, and the Count probably won’t discharge you entirely from your service in his guard force. However, I can guarantee you we five are far from the only ones who’ve had some trouble with you, and it’s time for us to be done with this particular brand of trouble. Maybe your friends will learn from whatever punishment the Count ends up laying on you. Maybe just a fine? Maybe hard labor? I can’t say I know what his regular choices are.”

Gregory didn’t say anything, though his knuckles on his cudgel whitened as he seemed to debate starting to dispense some preemptive vengeance on the party for what they were threatening.

“Really, Gregory? You’re going to hit us here and then definitely get yourself suspended as well as jailed? You’re not members of the constabulary, and we haven’t done anything illegal anyways. We’re leaving the Dungeon, there is no reason for us to have any measure of conflict, and we haven’t started a fight in the past five months we’ve been here. This will get you thrown in prison, you know that, right? I don’t know how long you’ve been Iron, but any assault conducted between tiers is considered to have been done with murderous intent. Did you know that?”

Gregory‘s face fell, no doubt familiar with the strict laws concerning interactions between tiers. Astrid wondered if he was smart enough to remember that he was only one of dozens of Iron tier guards employed by the Count. He was only another number in the account. As he continued to stiffen and Benedict shut his mouth to stop pissing the guard off more, Astrid considered Gregory. If he ended up causing real trouble, something beyond trying to strong arm some delvers out of a couple tenners of copper, he’d be locked up before he could leave the city’s walls. He clenched his teeth so loudly the Astrid could hear it, but he whipped his hand with disgust through the air as he turned his attention away to a crack on the wall that obviously needed his studious attention. Benedict seemed to want to continue his tirade, but he fortunately thought better of it, and instead just turned and continued walking as Astrid led the way.

“Are we—”

“Not now, Felix.“ Astrid cut him off. She knew what he was going to ask, and barring the Bodyguard having a particularly good reason not to, they were going to make the report. The Guild and the Count had a particularly and unusually close relationship here in Purcell, and the Count had a vested interest in not driving off any of the delvers. He walked a delicate balance of employing people who’d reached Iron tier but aspired no further, while also deriving nearly the entirety of his business from delvers who were swiftly approaching the resentful and stalled guards’ levels. There was constant rancor between them, but the party’s experiences were exacerbated by the fact that Purcell had only been put on the map by the appearance of this Dungeon branch.

About 15 years before, the branch had appeared only two kilometers away from a small, nameless town with only a few hundred inhabitants. The hilly land that surrounded what would become Purcell was well suited for shepherding, and the backwater town had, of course, notified the authorities of the newly appeared Dungeon when a flock was lost to a raider. When the Count came shortly thereafter, he swiftly relocated the township that barely deserved the title to where it now was, and as a large and bustling town sprouted up, the original inhabitants found a spring of new wealth. Unfortunately, being a mere 100 kilometers from the border the Bulwark shared with the Hordes, they’d also been fed entirely off of horror stories about Barbarians, even worse than Astrid‘s own, as she’d been taught the reality of the people behind the stories, while to the natives of Purcell, Barbarians were more monsters than man. Funny that she felt herself grow more frustrated with these people who held the same ideas she had before meeting Muti. 

That they lived by some of the ideas that Astrid still held.

When finally the party reached the inn, Astrid gestured for them to follow her into a nearby private room. From the outside, it was obvious that it was larger and more developed than any of the others she had been in, whether they were owned by the Guild or otherwise, just another testament to the booming business that was found in Purcell. In the small room, there was a table where maybe three people could sit comfortably, as well as benches ringing the entire room and three stools. Astrid claimed one as she spoke.

“To answer your question, Felix, yes. We’re going to make this report, and we’re going to make it as scathing as possible. I’ve been patient enough, but I’m done with their damned words and attempts to make us fall in line. We’ve underplayed it in our every report so far, it’s time to let the hammer fall.”

“At the risk of sounding patronizing,” Skandr interrupted, “I’m proud of you for making it this far. You’ve done really good at keeping your cool. That’s all.”

“Thanks, Skandr.“ Astrid nodded, recognizing that he was being honest instead of insulting. “Does anybody have any reason why we shouldn’t go ahead with us?”

“Well, I have two.” Felix shrugged as he fiddled with the buckles of his armor at his side. “One of them I know you won’t care about, but I feel the need to say it anyways, and the other I want to know what you all think about.”

Benedict jumped in. “I know what the one that I’m not gonna care about is, and I’ll tell you right now: you’re right. I don’t care. Yes, their livelihoods are on the line. Since they knew that, they should’ve not been such massive arseholes that I’ve memorized their names and their postings. If they were so concerned with kee[ing the cushy jobs they have, then they should have treasured them, because the way they’re acting lets me know not to regret what I’m doing. I’m done with them, and if they lose their jobs, well then maybe they shouldn’t have been so bad at the job they were given.”

Felix raised his hands. “I recognize where you’re coming from, and I largely agree with you. Even so, people like this aren’t going to be able to get a different job around here if they get thrown out. The Guild won’t let them delve, and the Count absolutely won’t let them into the Dungeon either, given he’s cut off the relationship with them. That means they’ll have to leave, and who knows what kind of trouble they’ll get into out in the world at large when they’ve got nothing to lose. Like I said, that’s not really our problem, but we are slightly responsible for their circumstances if they do get pushed away.”

Astrid shook her head, understanding but disagreeing with what he said. “And if they turn to banditry, then they turn to a life of crime because they were weak. There’s really not anything I can say about that other than I hope they don’t, but I also have no bearing on the people who decided to kill and kidnap Markus‘s party. Sure, they also came after us, but it’s not our fault that people are evil. If the consequences of somebody’s actions are that they lose their job for incompetence, then they lose their damned job. Not my fault that I was willing to tell the people who needed to know that they’re trying to strong–arm us.“

While the other three made noises of agreement, Felix kept his hands raised as he nodded. “Like I said, I didn’t think you’d care, and I don’t really either. Figured I’d bring it up even so, since it’ll weigh on my conscience a little.”

“And you’re right, you were right to bring up every aspect to a choice we make, and I shouldn’t have been quite so heated with you. Now, your second point?”

“I don’t know if we should do this because of how the rest of the guards might act moving forward. I’m sure that they’ll stop trying to steal so openly from us, but is paying an extra five tenners a week in paying what is effectively hush money worth keeping the rest of their coworkers from deciding that we’re going to come after their jobs too? Because if the entire body of guards think that we’re a threat to them, the positive outcome would be if they just decide to never interact with us at all, but the flip side of that is that they could decide that they need to get rid of us as fast as possible, come surges or war.”

Astrid thought about that, and looked at the rest of her party. Felix’s point was a good one, because even if this course of action didn’t make the party the enemies of the other guards, getting two of their fellows chastised would be presenting themselves as potential foes if nothing else. Nothing unified people like having an enemy to hate.

“I think I have a unique take on this.“ Skandr spoke up first. “I’m pretty good at making guards like me, I’ve done it in the other towns I’ve delved in.These guys didn’t like me from the first second I interacted with them. Maybe it’s got something to do with you two being all big and intimidating, but I get the impression they never wanted to get along with me. Maybe this is something that’ll make them dislike us more, but nothing we’re going to do is ever gonna make them like us. If we make a threat and then don’t follow through on it, we’ll come across as weak. We’re not going to be friends and we’re not gonna be able to make them love us, so I say we show them where we stand. ‘If you keep poking us, you’re gonna get something back. If you leave us alone, we’ll pay our taxes and we’ll move along.’ Something like that.”

“If we act like prey, we will be preyed upon.” Muti’s response was succinct, but she made herself clear.

Benedict shrugged. “I’m sick of feeling like I’ve gotta rub my face in the dirt to just get to the Dungeon. I’m sick of it.”

As he repeated himself, it was obvious where he stood. Astrid was the last one to weigh in, and she pursed her lips for a moment, pulling her fingers through her hair as she unbraided it and scratched at her scalp. When finally she’d finished her thoughts about it, Astrid finally came to her conclusion.

“I think that with what we said to them today, we need to do something. If we don’t report them, we’re liars and we’re weak. Instead of what I said before, though, we don’t go fully scorched earth. I don’t think that we need to mention the threat of violence from Gregory, I think we just need to mention how many times they’ve tried to charge us and made nuisances of themselves. Any gifts that Skandr gave in an attempt to grease palms will be counted as gifts, not money that was stolen, and if we run into Lars and Gregory again, we can let them know that, in a final effort to show goodwill, we under-reported what happened. If anything else happens, we’ll bring out the entirety of what we’ve experienced. How’s that sound?”

The party nodded in agreement, and Astrid pushed on her knees as she stood up from the stool. “ Then let’s go turn in our spoils and talk to Greely.”

The party followed her as she made her way out, each person’s pack full to bursting with everything that was worth anything from the Dungeon. As they made their way into the inn proper, the bustle of the large common room greeted them. Several excited faces turned to them, greeting the party as they walked in. In the past months, they’d managed to make a name for themselves, and several friends beside that.

“Are you ever gonna tell us another story? Come on, Benedict!”

“Astrid, when are you and Muti going to have another sparring match! I made almost a whole silver on my bet last time!”

“I’m gonna make you pay me back for last week, Skandr! You were too lucky!”

Astrid stiffed and looked at the Lightningmage at that last one, and he raised both hands in surrender. “I only gamble with the money that you trust me with, and if I end up having to eat scraps for a day, that’s what I do. There’s a reason why I only ever allow myself to have a single silver in an entire week. Please, don’t take it out of my hide.”

“Do you think begging will save you?“ Astrid hissed back, fighting to keep a calm look on her face. Skandr shrunk, grumbling to himself about how a man couldn’t even have a hobby, but Astrid stopped paying attention to him. Instead, she raised a hand in greeting to the people who called out to her as she made her way to the bar, where she quickly ordered a heaping meal for each one of her party members and herself. The rest had walked ahead, already in the representative’s office, where the door always stood open. As soon as she poked her head in, Greely spoke.

“Hello, Astrid. How was your delve?”