**[Rita, Day 2]**

The night had gone by with a speed so slow it was agonizing. She had tried to force herself asleep to let the morning bring what it may, but the images of Horace’s arm and the drop claw’s mutilated body made closing her eyes difficult. Aiden had fallen into an unsteady doze next to her. She had tied him to her waist with the rope to keep him from shifting into one of the spikes. Their safe zone was only a few feet wide, and to conserve space. They piled Horace on their legs. He was heavy. Rita had long since lost feeling, and despite the lack of light, her years of a regular sleep schedule told her it was likely approaching morning outside.

They had spent hours hiding in the pit trap and repeatedly would hear things go past, yet as the hours wore on, less came by. She had been hopeful the creatures would assume the pit had killed them, and that was why she had led them here, knowing that the blood would bring scavengers. In this dungeon, a scavenger would probably be more of a threat than the original attacker. “At least they had leveled,” she thought to herself. The only positive about their situation would be the massive increases they would experience for every success, but failure brought death. She would have much preferred being in a low-level dungeon, killing scores of beasts for the same level. The stat points she had earned from her level increase still sat glaring at her. She did not tell Aiden during their brief conversation earlier in the night that she had been gifted two for just one level.

As a member of the leaf faction, she was privy to more information and knew about achievements, but it was illegal to share that information with the lower factions. The royal family, or sun faction, had decreed that the power of achievements should stay in the nobility's hands. They claimed the benefits were too powerful for the general populace, yet Rita began to question the propaganda fed to them for the first time in her life. If Horace or Aiden had known, then they might be able to manipulate the system to gain one, and they would be better off as a whole for it. Most nobles, by the time they reached adulthood, had one. However, they were quite rare and unique to the individual. Hers would not have the same benefit or name as one granted to another for slaying a beast eight levels above their own. It certainly sounded fairly useless right now. However, it would be useful in the future since those serving her would be more respectful, yet in the dungeon, the wariness it gave to pretty much everything here would make them take the group more seriously, which might not be a good thing.

She shook her head. Thinking about possibilities would not help them. She was better off placing her points and being productive. She took a look at her stat sheet to decide.

Rita Mae Malory

Level: 2

Age: 13

Faction: Leaf

Class: ----

Status: Weary

Traits:

Enhanced Mind

Natural Grace

Fragile

Murphy’s Bitch

Stats:

Strength: 3*

Dexterity: 6

Agility: 8*

Charisma: 6

Intelligence: 9*

Wisdom: 8

Luck: 2*

As much as the dismal state of her luck saddened her, traits were permanent, and while increasing it would help, it would not be enough to do any good at this time. On the other hand, her strength could benefit from an increase, but her fighting potential, even with her new knife skill, was not high enough to warrant a point being placed there. She would like to be able to carry their packs without struggle, yet it was better to look elsewhere. After thinking about the issue, she was stuck between intelligence, wisdom, and dexterity. With an increased dexterity, she might be able to wield her wand more efficiently and have the added advantage of increased knife mobility if needed. Wisdom and intelligence both would increase her magic capacity, but neither had a direct result. In the end, she decided to split the difference and throw on point into dexterity and one into intelligence to get it to reach ten. As the points were added, she could feel a headache she had only barely felt disappear, and her fingers elongated slightly. Testing it out, she practiced flipping the new knives they had won from their fight in her hands. Rita was pleased to be the only one awake when it nearly stabbed her.

****

Aiden finally perked up a while later, and together they ate some rations from their bags. Horace was still unresponsive, so they dribbled in a bit of their remaining water and continued waiting. The top of the trap had reclosed in the night, and they felt safer staying inside than rejoining the rest of the dungeon. Neither of them knew how they’d get out when they did decide to leave, but without Horace awake, they were limited either way.

Time passed slowly as they waited there together. Rita’s legs ached from lack of movement, and she got impatient. Horace still had not moved, and so in a fit of annoyance, she whacked him hard in the chest. The resulting cough made her wish she had done it earlier. She quickly whispered in his ear, “Put your stat point in strength,” to try and get some added healing into him. When nothing seemed to change, she did it again and again until his body finally shifted. Aiden had tried to stop her, but she had set herself on this path and was committed. Horace came in and out of consciousness for what seemed like ages, and once he was fully aware, she regretted waking him. The initial scream of pain was only partially captured by Aiden’s hand, and the sound bounced back in the enclosed space. They paused, well except Horace, who had started writhing, but Rita cared little for the disabled boy as images of monsters attacking invaded her thoughts.

A soft scurrying could be heard through the thin stone covering the trap, and her grip on Horace tightened. Aiden’s free hand found her arm. They shared a moment of mutual tension as the noise got closer.

**[Aiden]**

His hand was damp against Rita’s skin as he listened to the sound above them. The noise had the added effect of making him imagine things. His parent’s tavern had a cellar where he slept to guard the goods, and the sound he heard above sounded eerily familiar. It reminded him of hearing his dad moving in the kitchen in the early mornings. The soft muffled da-dun of feet moving carefully above them brought disturbing thoughts to his mind. He almost moved to ask Rita but kept himself from speaking at the last moment when he realized that he definitely did not want to risk letting it hear them.

Horace slowly stopped struggling under his arm. He felt relieved to know that his teammate had the soundness of mind to recognize the danger they were in despite his pain. Aiden felt pity towards him, but not as much as he probably should have. He was mostly feeling relieved they were all alive and that someone other than him had been the one to get injured. His leg was bothering him and likely would for the rest of his life or until it got it magically healed, but at least his injury could be fixed in theory. Horace was going to spend the rest of his life with only three appendages.

Aiden realized he had been lost in thought and missed the disappearance of the creature above them when Horace started moving again. Rita had shifted back to let him get up, and Aiden hastily lessened his grip on the boy lest they catch him daydreaming.

Together they sat in the dark, disgusting hole they had ended up in for an unknown period of time. Aiden decided after a while to ask Rita if she had heard footsteps in the creature that had passed or if it had just been his imagination, and she had not recognized it. This helped him quell a portion of his curiosity, yet he also felt strangely disappointed. Against another monster, they would have little better odds than in their battle with the drop claw, worse probably due to their hurt bodies, but his skills could have helped against a sentient foe. A foolish hope to have, and yet he found himself unable to shake the nagging feeling in his gut.