Jack exchanged a glance with Drake who just shrugged as they made their way forward, happy to see that his supposed stream of caustic nastiness had mostly drained away, though he did use Artesenal Manipulation several times for hand and foot ledges as they made their way past the few pools remaining, also doing his part to transform the sharp jagged rocks into what amounted to clay steps, greatly decreasing their risk of falling or cutting hands or feet as they made their way over the mound of rubble, and Jack couldn't help whistling when he saw the vast chamber beyond.

A massive dome of striated dark umber and bright orange hued stone that stretched as wide as a football field at least, inhabited by a cluster of tiny figures all dashing about a singular foggy grey area against the far chamber wall he could barely make out, all of it lit up by a ceiling that sparkled strangely, forcing him to wince and close his eyes, confused by what he saw.

He turned to his friend. "Does that look like a deep blue sky with the sun shining overhead and we're in a canyon finally opening up, or is this an underground dome and those crystals overhead are sparkling so bright they sting my eyes?"

Drake smirked. "You are an odd one, Jack. Clearly—" then he winced and lowered his gaze as well. "Actually, I'm not sure."

"What are you two waiting for? Let's get going!" Said none other than a scowling Elof, beginning to make his way down before being stopped cold by a frowning Barlton.

"Sir?"

"Hold yer horses, lad. Trouble's awaiting below, and we needs ta be ready!" His eyes gleamed with a certain excitement. "That being said, we're getting close, lads. I can taste it!" He poked his proboscis. "The nose knows! And what I know is that we need to get down there... without alerting the swarm of jackal-heads below."

Jack nodded, holding back a sight, already knowing what his job would be, whispering the words to Artesenal Manipulation under his breath along with a bit of rune magic as he forged a patchwork series of clay steps leading down, trying but failing to completely tune out the chatter of his friends as he carefully eyed the remaining cluster of baddies below, thankfully not paying his party any mind at all, the entirity of their attention on what looked to be a pitched battle, if the frantically moving figures and faint screams were anything to go by. But all he saw were shadowy figures and fog.

"So is this a gorge or a cavern, Barlton?" asked a bemused Drake. "Are those crystals shining brightly and catching the light oddly, or a brilliant deep blue sky with the sun flashing from strange angles?" And in a softer voice he asked, "What's up with Elof?"

"As to yer question on the sky, Yer Grace, the right answer is that it don't rightly matter, and best leave it at that. Some forces are feckle and fey and best leave alone what leaves you alone. Same thing if it actually rains. Best consider it stalactite condensation and leave it at that. And as for the boy..." the dwarf sighed. "I think the answer should be obvious, Yer Grace."

Jack frowned, finding the latter no more helpful than he sensed Drake did through their link. A link which he didn't really share with the others to the same degree, for whatever reason, though he sensed enough to feel the swirling mixture of regret and excitement permeating Veti's cautiously climbing form, Aroust's grim concentration, worried about them all and keeping a sharp eye out, and Elof's unmistakable irritation with him.

Which made absolutely no sense to Jack, and as much a he hated to admit it, he couldn't deny the uncomfortable twinge in his gut. No matter how petty or trivial it might seem, after all he had been through, he refused to take trust or good intentions for granted.

Doing so had nearly killed him once before.

"Elof."

The scowling youth stopped abruptly behind Jack when he paused in smoothing just the surface of the rocks to claylike consistency, which was remarkably easy to do if he wasn't then expending time and effort shaping it, which still proved to be a tremendous aid in their descent.

"What the hell, Jack? Why are we stopping? We need to keep moving."

Jack just stared at the now scowling young man, sensing the sudden tension, but refusing to do anything but stare.

Elof swallowed. "What's your problem?"

"My problem is you, Elof."

The youth blinked in surprise, his jaw clenching as sudden anger shot through him, now glaring back at Jack. "What the hell are you getting on about? I'm not the one delaying us!"

"But you are the one with a sudden chip on his shoulder, who went from being a dependable ally, even if as green as freshly sprouted grass, to someone I no longer feel comfortable having at my back. Or my front. And if I can't trust you... then we have a problem." Jack didn't hold back the frustration he felt, though he was surprised by how quickly the kid blanched from whatever he saw in Jack's gaze.

"Easy, Jack. It's not so grim as all that," soothed Barlton of all people, a worried timbre to his cavernous voice.

"Jack, what the hell?" he was surprised to sense the sudden from Drake though he kept his eyes squarely on the young warrior before him.

The boy swallowed, still standing tall, but Jack could sense the sudden fear in his gaze. "So. Are you going to kill me now?"

Jack blinked in surprise. "What the hell are you talking about? No, nothing like that. Why would you even say that?"

"It's yer eyes," Barlton explained as he approached. "Yer a handsome enough lad, I suppose, but ya have the eyes of someone who's seen action. There's no hidin' that."

Aroust nodded. "A killing gaze, we call it in the dueling ring. Great for unmanning your opponent." He flashed a bitter smile. "I've been accused of having such myself, among many other things."

"But in his case, it isn't just a trick of the face, is it?" asked Veti, lips pressed in a tight frown as she gaze Jacks way.

Jack did his best to hold back his glare, now definitely feeling like he was being picked on. "And why do you say that, Veti?"

She swallowed. "The way you handled those bugbears. The way you smiled when they collapsed in death. You... you liked it, didn't you?" She bit her lip, but held her gaze. "This isn't the first time you've taken a life, is it, Jack?"

Jack sighed and met her gaze, pretending he didn't sense her blanch. "The bugbears are monsters who would kill us just as soon as look at us. Monsters who didn't try for some sci-fi unification fantasy to communicate with us, or show us pretty artwork, or trade baubles or tools or food, when we first popped in. No, Veti. They charged in with war clubs and spears, intent in our deaths. And do you know what you call people who learn to revel in combat and embrace that madness? - Survivors, Veti. Ethics aside, it beats the fuck out of being a corpse for someone else to feel guilty about for a few maudlin moments before going on with their day. As for enjoying it? Hell yes. I enjoyed the sweet rush of power when I felt my spells swelling with potential, and don't tell me you didn't feel equally as excited about hitting level Three."

Jack didn't smile when Veti frowned in thought, but he hoped he had made his point. "And as for killing others... only when they threatened my life, or my friend's lives."

Veti swallowed. "And how many people have you killed, supposedly in self-defense?"

Jack held a now flushing Veti's gaze for long moments.

"Do you really want an answer to that question?"

The arcanist paled and looked away. "Um... no. You know what? I don't think I do."

Drake chuckled softly. "Good answer. Just don't forget, Veti, that if Jack weren't here, we'd already be dead. You do know that, right?"

She flushed and glared at her obvious academy friend. "Yes, Drake, of course I do. It's just that..."

"Jack's a proper battlemage who knows what it's like to be forged in fire? Not some noble brat like us who had loving parents, fast friends, and a gentle academy life where we were all valued, and our safety was always put first? Where our magical duels would result in nothing worse than the equivalent of a slap to the face?"

Veti cracked a smile at that. "Those duels were a bit silly, weren't they? Then again, the masters were right. You're going to train pretty damn hard at parrying spells and mastering your own if it keeps you from turning blue or being transformed into a pig." Her smile faded when she peered intently at Jack. "But what about Elof?"

Elof swallowed, the tension never having quite left his face.

Everyone was looking just a bit too intently at Jack who gave an angry shake of his head. "Look, we all know we're getting ready to head into battle again, and I just want to make sure I can trust that my party will have my back, that there's no chip on anyone's shoulder with anyone responsible for covering my flank. Because I'm not going to put my life in the hands of someone who would be all too happy to see me fall."

Elof backed up a step, smacking right into a frowning Barlton's side. "I would never..." he gave an angry shake of his head. "I would never betray my teammates!"

Jack smirked. "Then why are you now looking at me like you want to put my face on your training pel and have at me?"

"Because you have everything!" Elof screamed, eyes bulging with emotions that seemed to surprise even him. "You're handsome, talented, made friends with lords, and bested duelists at their own game!" Aroust smirked at that, as Elof spoke on. "And other whispers and rumors are going on about the dashing Jack, bosom buddy of the city's most eligible bachelor, that you're even more absurdly talented than the stories would have it!" He gave a frustrated shake of his head. "And seeing what you did to those bugbears, molding stone like woodpulp or clay, we see how damned true that is. And you don't even have a class. You don't even have a class! And now, when the rest of us are learning to accept the reality underneath the heroic fantasy of becoming a hero, that eventually our rapid ascent will fade to the gentlest of slopes... even here you get the luckiest cards in the deck. An Original soul, which means your experience needs won't double to millions by the time you hit level 15 like it will for everyone else while you're destined to ascend into living legend, assuming any of us survive this madness."

Elof trembled, lowering his head, shuddering not with anger but choking back quiet sobs. "And some of us are so broken, we can't even see our character sheet! We don't even have a class. We don't have anything but a desperate need not to be press-ganged, or watch my friend's sisters be forced to serve the same damned army that's supposed to be defending us!"

Jack and Drake shared an alarmed look at that.

"I don't care what Aroust says. We're finding the serpents responsible for this. Heads will roll, as soon as we're out of here."

Jack flashed a sharp smile. "Agreed." before gazing down at a sobbing Elof. "Wait. Are you telling me you don't even have a class?"

Elof clenched tight tear-filled eyes. "Yes, you damned bastard who has everything. I don't even have a class!" He chuckled bitterly. "All I had were the mockery of those damned delvers who refused even to touch me, for all that I had done it, managed to survive the deep, claiming the red talisman and touching the rim of the portal, just like I was told to, and seeing nothing but a white screen in my mind and nothing else!"

He choked back a sob, clenching his trembling fists. "I had so hoped... traveling with living legends about town, like you and Drake, actually being accepted into a party... but no." He swallowed. "My mind's as blank as ever. I have nothing!" He chuckled bitterly. "Truly, I should have turned to slime like every other sad fool who escaped the press gangs with me. But no. I felt fine. Better than fine. Stronger breathing that awful red mist than I ever have before, and I have nothing to show for it!"

The party stayed silent for long moments, as if in silent respect to the distress of one of their own as Elof squeezed back his tears and rubbed his face after sinking to the clay-covered ground.

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "And here I am, taking it out on you, Jack. When I know the fault is mine and mine alone." He swallowed, gaze filled with a certain dread. "You're going to kick me out of the party, aren't you?"

"He'd be a fool not to," Aroust quietly said. "And I don't say that to be cruel. But if you can level no more than a mortal, then daring the deeps can only lead to your death, whether you can feed on the miasma like the rest of us, or no."

He smirked as desperate eyes looked Jack's way.

"Don't, lad. We've already seen what our friend here can do. I get the feeling an Original's power transcends concepts like levels. But either way, I don't plan on any of us daring anything beyond the White for a good long time, assuming we survive our dwarven friend's impulsive plunge into chaos."

Barlton chuckled softly. "Don't worry, lad. No matter what happens, by the time we're done here today, we'll all be rich as lords. And who would know better than a lord?"

"That's right," Drake said, patting a despondent Elof's shoulder. "Plenty of time to get you the best tutors in the city. So even if you can't level up, you'll be a talented bladesman and a force to be reckoned with, with enough gold to your name for you to live life on your terms alone. All that matters now is that we get through this together. As a team."

Elof flashed a trembling smile. "I... you're right, Drake." He gazed almost apologetically at the group as a whole. "And I'm sorry, for well..."

"No time for that!" A suddenly alarmed Barlton hissed. "I sense the rift. Where we need to go. It's closing, and soon. We need ta git!"

And without wasting another second, the powerfully built dwarf was leaping down the massive pile with the sure-footedness of a mountain goat, the rest following right behind.