We all carefully found our way up a small incline to the central keep, making damn sure that any holes nearby didn’t have an opportunistic ankle biter hidden within. I was up front with Avice, who together with Ritz pointed out holes for Vinesse to plug with her ice-staff thing as she saw fit.

Magic! How does it work, what does it do? I need to know.

“C-cool magic you’ve got there.” I said apprehensively, pointing at the latest ice plug. “M-ma’am. How do you do that?”

She didn’t answer, instead walking ahead to the next hole.

Alrighty then. Keep your secrets.

The way ahead was straight and simple, stairs before an old wooden door built into the side of the stone building. But as the open doors of the keep greeted me, a hiss and an infernal scream erupted from behind me. I turned on my feet as quickly as I could, but all I saw was Vinesse sticking her staff into a cloud of white smoke rising from the ground.

The vapor kept on coming as if someone was boiling a bucket of water, until she retracted her pole. The creature that was left in its wake was horrifying to behold. A mixture between a rat and a dog, with face-bits like a spider had snuck up on us, but she noticed it fast enough and simply cooked it to death with her magic.

Almost to death at least. The now even more hairless and scorched form was still twitching, its eyes white and clotted like those of a fried fish. The smell of cooked meat filled the air, and I felt a bit sick.

“Ritz.” She said, wiping the tip of her staff off on the ground. He stepped forward and with one quick stab ended its misery.

Smells like burnt pepper and wet fur.

“What are you still staring for?” she asked me as between averting my eyes and throwing up, I managed to do neither and just stood rooted in place.

“I, uh.” A clump was building in my throat. “I’ve never seen magic. Maybe I don’t remember. But it’s… something else from up close.”

Her eyes focused on me again like I was the most curious thing in the room. She rolled her shoulder and wiped her staff on the wet stone floor. The moment she did, a ball of water like a soft marble gathered from all around to the tip of it, flowing until she held a sphere the size of my head at its end.

My wide eyes probably betrayed my awe. It looked so mesmerizing, watching small trails of water crawl up the copper staff, controlled as if they were limbs of her own. Then, in a flourish, she twirled her spear upright. The ball of water turned into a tear-drop shaped pick. In light of seeing it up close, the finesse, the wonder, the suffering of the rat-monstrosity was quickly forgotten.

“Wow.” I said with a sense of wonder. “You can control water and turn it into ice? That’s so, so… gah! No words.”

Her chin inclined backwards ever so slightly. There was no expression on her face, but I knew a good reaction to a compliment when I saw one. As far as I had come to know her over this short amount of time, this much physical expression meant she was practically preening under my attention. Or maybe I was just completely misreading her.

At least she’s not hiding her face behind a mask. Makes reading said face a whole heck of a lot easier.

“It is a part of it. My studies allowed me insights into two minor runes. Their intensity leaves much to desire, but unlike my fellow alumni who perfected a single moderate or grand rune, I have choice between the two. Watch.”

“Flexibility.” She said, melting the ball of ice into water again, then into a dreadfully thin and flat spear-tip.

“Persistence.” She smashed the tip of ice into the wall, and it shattered. The Ice melted as she beckoned it to her staff once more, reforming nearly the same shape as before.

“Creativity.” She said and pointed her spear directly into nearby room. A sudden and loud hiss filled the air as a stream of hot vapor shot out, melting the spear tip and filling the entire hall with humidity.

I clapped, though somewhat clumsily.

“And a whole lot of strain.” Moggen said handing her a handkerchief. She dabbed her forehead and breathed out audibly before fixing her eyes on the path ahead. “We should keep moving.”

“Agreed. Krah, anything unusual?”

The Bekki man shook from his daze. He slowly turned his head this way and that. He put a hand on the walls and the floor and tasted the air.

“Bad.” Was his final verdict. He didn’t blink and just kept on nodding to himself.

“How bad? Why is it bad?” Moggen asked.

“Bad quiet. Little chitter-chatter. Little people. Outside?” he looked at Vitesse. “All quiet.”

She sighed. “No use staying in one place. Let’s move. This place may yet hide riches and danger. Krah, keep an ear out. Ritz, back up Moggen. Rye up front. Avice, support her.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As I took position, I felt Avice’ form loom over me. She did that sometimes, but that was just how she expressed worry, I think.

“I… do not think this is a good idea. You have seen how I do. I just… cannot.” She whispered.

My mind briefly warred between telling her a white lie and genuinely thinking her suggestion over. It wasn’t like her worries were unfounded. And I would rather have Vinesse at my back than Avice. However, she was my friend. And friends help each other.

“I think we can work it out. I’ve got enough fight left in me to stand tall. Just knowing you’re at my back will make me fight ten times as strong!” I declared.

She didn’t look convinced. “B-but what if I screw up? What if a rat or, or a spider, or something else jumps you and I, I just… I am too slow?”

“Just take all the time you need.” I tapped my helmet. “That’s what the armor’s for. Don’t worry, I’m a tough egg to crack.”

She didn’t say anything after that, falling into a deep silence as we cleared the nearby hallway. It was long, an old carpet made of mostly mold hiding rotted floorboards. When Krah confirmed that nothing was there (he probably had hearing as good as Pim), I poked Avice with my club.

“You’re not the only one with apprehensions about killing stuff y’know.” I said.

She didn’t answer at first, but I could hear the mill in her mind turning.

When she finally said something, the tone of her voice made her confusion apparent. “Then how do you do so anyways?”

“I… I’m still figuring that out.” It wasn’t like I knew what I should do if I was forced to fight another human either. Or where that belief came from, that all human life was sacred. Probably my parents. Figuring that out remained for the future, as Vinesse rapped her staff on the ground to get our attention.

“Enough chit-chat. This wing has the barracks in it. Search through the rooms, groups of two. Weapons, baubles, hole-less clothewear, anything that has indecipherable signs that could possibly be magical scribbled on it. We aren’t strapped for time, but don’t drag your heels.”

We split up and started rummaging through the age old remains of whatever sorry soldier was sent to watch over this distant fort. I entered a room that certainly looked like it had seen better days. There were no windows, the wall was cleaned blank except for a moth-eaten banner on the wall and the sheets on the bed looked like time in this damp air had simply fused them with the mattress.

Well. It could be worse. Let’s just not touch anything that looks too moldy.

In the nearby nearby drawer I found a few assorted coins. Most of them were iron coins, but one was blackened all over. It was made of silver, but very, very old. The drawer revealed some old candlesticks as well.

Hmm. After all, why shouldn’t I take the candlesticks? Who knows if I’ll ever need them. Maybe someone at the temple will trade them for something else?

After yoinking them, I then checked under the bed. People always hid the best stuff under the bed. Except this person apparently, who stored a wall of dust bunnies and even more mold under there.

Drats. I was hoping for a– oh. Oh! Found something.

Hidden beneath all the dirt and the dust, a metallic thing brushed up against my fingers. I grabbed it, and upon pulling it back I then held a dagger in an old leather scabbard in my hand, embellished with little rims and bits of rusted metal. It wasn’t particularly long, long enough to do some carving perhaps, but upon pulling the dagger back, a black sheen greeted my eyes.

It’s like the one Avice had.

The hilt was rather mundane, but the blade was made of some sort of raven black stone. Glass maybe. I touched the edge but kept myself from pulling it across my finger.

I’m not gonna test it for sharpness on myself.

Instead, I pressed it against the nearby wooden bedpost and pulled. The soft wood offered little resistance and it easily cut quite deep.

Nice knife got! I declare it ‘pretty darn sharp’. Now to make sure I don’t make the same mistake as Avice and break it.

I cleared out of the room and saw that everyone else was already on to the next. We scoured much of the wing clean of all loot but in the end, with only a few old carving knives, mementos and minor treasures such as coins and bracelets, it wasn’t exactly a stellar haul. Though Avice did find a bracelet inlayed with small, washed out gemstones.

"Ooh, what is it?" I asked, pointing at the stones.

Avice turned it this way and that in her light.

"Magnesit. Or Howlith. It is quite dirty." Her fingers gently carassed it. "Might even just be some cracked Quartz."

"Well, make sure it doesn't crack any further."

“Krah, we good?” Ritz asked as we all motioned to explore on.

“Hnnn. Big room. Very echo-like. No chitter.” The Bekki man was crouched low to the ground, ears searching the air for any disturbance.

"Then on we go." Vinesse said.

Indeed, after walking through another set of large doors, we entered what looked to be the entrance hall of the fort. The front doors stood like absolute and massive slabs of wood. They were also massively closed, barred from the inside with wooden beams and a pile of furniture. Our collective light shone across barely half of the room, some of the dim sheen tickling the ceiling before disappearing into a foreboding hole here or there. Cobbled stones large and less large lay strewn about the floor, and what looked to be a bridge that used to be part of a second-floor walkway had simply collapsed into the middle of the room.

I stood a bit of shock as the castle seemingly opened up in every direction where it before had hemmed us in like rats in the walls. As if it had treated us like intruders and strangers before, yet now greeted us with a king’s welcome.

I couldn’t help a ‘wow’ from passing my lips. I heard someone scoff behind me. Probably Moggen. He doesn’t really seem to like me. Step in dogshit, Mog.

“Movement.” Vinesse said as we made our first testing steps into the dark and we all froze.

“Three human-like’s. One stuck under the rubble, two standing up and hobbling towards us from the left.”

Shit. People. I don’t want to fight people. Everything was going fine, why now? Why here? Stupid question, I know. I’m in a castle, what else should I expect?

“Rye, Avice. On the right. Mog, Ritz, brace left.”

Double shit.

As if on command, a figure came running out of the darkness. They made three unnaturally long bounding steps before impacting Moggen, knocking them both to the ground. That was all I saw of them, as the second one stepped into our dim light and locked eyes with me.

“Friendly?” I asked with little hope.

He looked anything but.

The man came at me with uneven hobbles, as if he had two right legs. In the short instance between entering my circle of seven foot bright light and his first strike, I saw why. Where his left leg was simply exposed beneath the chainmail and padded gambeson uniform, his right one had two suspiciously bulging growths in place of the calf.

Giant fleas. They’re empowering his steps. But only on his right leg.

I had already braced myself against his rapid approach. Yet where my initial confusion at this partial flea-host turned to a sense of mild reassurance, the sudden strength from the first strike shook me to the core as his weapon arm hidden under a tattered cape twitched and twisted above his head. It tore through the air in a single empowered chop.

His short sword right through the upper third of Planky the second, pushing my arm and body down. It glanced off the side of my helmet, the leftover force even then enough to rattle my skull.

Ho-fuck. Shit, his arm too?

I was complacent for only a few moments and already, I found myself on the backfoot. He simply ripped his sword right out of my shield, pulling me a bit towards him as neither my leather wraps nor the inconsistently hard wood gave away readily.

Out of reflex, I stabbed him with my club in the gut. I knew that with my reach, I wouldn’t get many chances to get in as close as I needed to strike. But this chance had been thoroughly wasted. The man stumbled only a bit before repeating almost the exact same motion again.

This time, I blocked with my shield and my club together. The latter had the thickness to stop the unreasonably strong strikes. Even then, I had to bend my knees down far. Far too much to call that a good block.

It’s a damn short sword. It’s not even supposed to be good at slashing!

My opponent didn’t seem to care much, simply wrenching his sword back before winding up for the third consecutive hammer blow.

“Avice!” I yelled and braced myself to take another hit.

The hit came and shook me again. I felt some leather come loose on my shield and instantly, it started wobbling uncomfortably. Not dangerously yet, but that was only a question of time. Still, his sword was stuck deep in my wooden weapon and shield. While I had no way to counterattack, to all else my enemy was basically a sitting duck.

“Avice! Now!” I yelled, fully aware of my hypocrisy of not wanting to kill someone myself, but telling someone else to do it for me. Even if they didn’t want to do it either.

Ugh.

However, Avice remained out of the fight. I didn’t have the time to look back to see what was keeping her. And she wasn’t answering me at all. She had gone completely silent.

The man pulled his sword back again.

“Avice?”

No answer.

Another strike. Another wedge in my club, another rent in my shield.

“Avice! Help!”

And then another.

“Stab him!”

Another.

I felt each strike down to my knees, though they luckily remained steady. My arms however were starting to give out and every strike pushed me back a half-step further.

Finally, I heard Avice speak up. “I-I can’t. I can’t bring myself to, Rye.”

Shit. But I get that. I can't bring myself to do it unless I feel my own life under threat. Currently, I am feeling very threatened while Avice is quite safe behind me. That is, as long as I keep in between her and the person (or creature?) who is no doubt going to make an attempt on her life after snuffing out mine.

“Just do something! Anything!”

Another hit went straight down to half my shield. It went so fair, the rusted blade scored a cut on my unarmored right arm and the side of my neck. It only didn’t cut further because it still had much of my club to eat through.

“It’s, I, you…” she said.

“Fuck! He’s being controlled! It’s a mercy! Close your eyes! I don’t care, just do something!”

The next strike was looming threateningly above my head again.

“Please!”

It came down and cleft straight through wood. For a moment, I waited for the pain in my arm, before noticing he had made quite the blunder. He only chipped off a corner of my shield, leaving much of his attack to go spinning off into the void as it bit into my club and wrenched it out of my guard. I still held on to it, and for lack of assistance from Avice, it at least left me with an opening I could finally exploit.

I stepped right into his reach and with all the clumsy might I could manage, I bashed my shield into his flea-infested sword-hand. He didn’t let go, but neither did I. I bashed a second time, aiming specifically for his hand and actually hitting despite only guiding it with my shoulder and elbow.

A lucky fluke! He let go of his sword. Now, aim for the bugs, and set him free.

I pulled my shield back. But not far back enough. His sword was still stuck to my club and so I was moments too late to set up my guard again when he simply pushed me back with his greater weight and his unarmored flea-arm smacked me straight across the head.

Fuck. Always the nose.

I saw stars for real then. I stumbled back, still with the presence of mind to hold up both my arms. He smashed right through them, shattering his own sword still sticking out of my club and raking across my face again.

I couldn’t even yell as I fell on my ass. My club flew gods-know-where, my shield was still there but its top half was pretty much torn apart. My vision swam as I saw the blurry form of my foe step forward and lift up his flea-empowered foot.

“Ow.” Was all I could think in that moment.

I blinked and the image of the flea-host stood completely still. The biggest toothpick I’d ever seen lodged clearly into his oral orifice and out the other side.

That’s a spear. And that’s… also bad dental hygiene. Be more gentle with the toothpicks next time. No, wait. He’s a baddy. He doesn’t need dental hygiene.

Shaking my head was something I regretted immediately as whatever remained inside bounced against every side of my skull. When I turned my head, slowly, I was immediately greeted with the face of Vinesse and an alert Krah besides.

She looks a bit worried. Why? Oh, right. My nose is probably all scuffed again. Please don’t crunch it.

“Rye? Are you with me?”

She didn’t shake me, thank the gods, but instead waved three fingers in front of my face.

“What is two plus this number of fingers?”

Hah. Maths. I’m good at the maths. I know aaall the numbers.

“F-five. No, wait, si- no. Five. Final answer.”

She let out a breath and immediately glared off to the side where I could hear Avice puking her heart out. As my initial concussion dimmed to an uncomfortable background buzz, I turned to her.

She didn’t even get the mask fully off. Poor Avice. No, wait. I almost died because she did nothing. However, I specifically didn’t die because she did exactly what was needed before it was too late.

I’m going to have mixed feelings about this adventure for a while.

Moggen and Ritz seemed to have fared a lot better. Their enemy also had an infection of giant fleas, on both their legs specifically. It had jumped around a bit, evading both Ritz’s spear and Moggen’s sword for a time. However, it was not the smartest, and a feint from Moggen made it skewer itself upon his sturdy looking longsword.

“Injury tally.” I heard Vinesse say. “Rye, you first.”

“Uh. Bit of a cut on my left arm. And neck. Not too deep though. Head hurts. Arms feel heavy and I think my nose is broken again.”

Vinesse exchanged a glance with Moggen.

He gave her the universal nod of understanding/acknowledgement/agreement before walking towards me, intent on setting my nose straight.

“WaitWaitWait! I can do it myself.”

I couldn't. I fumbled around a bit before realizing that, well, I only had one hand to do it with. I wasn’t very successful, unless squeezing some more tears out of my eyes and smearing blood all over my face counted as some measure of success.

To be fair, Moggen made no move to forcibly adjust my face after I told him no. Instead, he made way for Vinesse, who kneeled down and set her hand against my face. With a short crunch and a sharp spike of pain, my nose was set again.

I snorted some blood on her hand as thanks.

She didn’t seem bothered by it, as Ritz the ever aware handed her a handkerchief and she wiped her fingers clean.

“Your hand is entirely paralyzed?” She pointed at my right arm. The shield straps and general lifelessness of it pretty much gave it all away.

Right. I didn’t exactly tell anyone how bad it was. Please don’t be mad.

I nodded.

She looked me straight in the eyes and stared for a moment.

“You did well.” She finally said. “Well enough, considering your condition.”

Inwardly, I beamed. Outwardly, I beamed too.

“However, next time? Do not withhold injuries or other things from me. Do you understand?”

I nodded fiercely.

Meanwhile, Avice had finished emptying her stomach and somewhat cleaning up after herself. No one handed her a handkerchief. It was becoming quite clear that whatever fault I had in not being able to stand up against a single brute was instead being hefted onto Avice’ plate.

Not exactly fair.

No one dared or cared to comment on how the fight went. Krah was finished looting both corpses and Vinesse was looking to get us all up and running again. Moggen and Ritz sustained some minor bruises, the former having also received a nasty headbutt that did him more good than his assailant thanks to his helmet.

“Alright. We loot the room where these dregs came from, then we leave. Our state is far from ideal relative to what we’ve had to fight. Light-check?”

No one really gained more than two feet of dim light, me included. Moggen even gained only one. Though as it would seem, you only needed to be nearby when someone killed a creature or person to consume some soul. Contribution was strictly not a factor. Not that I was bothered by it. Though I could guess that Moggen probably was all kinds of grumpy because he always got the short end of the stick, even though he had to put up with the most danger out of us all.

The next room proved to be quite the boon to our treasury. Many dead were strewn about in what looked to be a small banquet chamber for servants, most of their armor and clothing in various states of bad and worse.

Krah pulled up a really nice round shield from under the broken table, strong wood, metal rim and all. My eyes immediately narrowed in on it.

I want that.

Sadly, fate had other plans.

“Moggen. New shield.” Vinesse said and had Krah toss it to him.

I can’t even debate that choice. He needs to stand in the front. I want a better shield. He needs a shield period. I still have mine, even if it’s a bit... diminished. Hold on Planky II, I still have need of your service.

We rummaged through the room, but most of the corpses didn’t reveal any hidden goodies. Unlike Ritz, who managed to find a hidden coffer behind the fireplace. Though how he managed to guess the mechanism that opened the grinding fake-wall was anyone’s guess.

The torch-holder is a lever? How could anyone ever guess that correctly? He’s a genius.

Inside the coffer were a handful of unsorted jewels and a lengthy package of wrappings buried beneath a small mountain of crumbling documents. Hidden within were three steel daggers of decent quality and acceptable state of rusting.

“Dibs!” called Ritz. “I’ve got nothing besides this spear.”

“No dibs” I heard Krah say. “I have Sha-shik.”

No one else raised their voices.

“I guess I could maybe, possibly take one?” I ventured. “I-if that’s alright?”

Did I do good? Good enough to deserve this?

Thankfully, a lack of objections greeted me, and I got myself an actual dagger. If I lost my club, this would make a good backup weapon. Or, well, maybe I could just use it instead of a club, period. Though I was still holding on to the fleeting hope that I could bonk the baddies into unconsciousness instead of being forced to stab them to death.

The last dagger remained unclaimed. We finished rummaging around soon enough and collected ourselves to walking back the way we came, Moggen and Ritz up front. But the moment we entered the main hall again, Krah completely froze up.

And then he hissed.

Oh. Oh, that’s not good, is it? He just heard something, right?

“Up.” He said.

We all turned our heads upwards in what would probably have been a futile gesture, as most of the ceiling remained solid and intact. Most of it.

“Head.” Vinesse said and gestured towards a point in the dark. "There in the corner."

I strained my eyes to see what she meant, but only Moggen’s dim light reached that far. Something like a snake with a boulder-shaped head turn its neck left, then right. A ring of things that moved like fingers surrounded the whole, so many they had to come from six hands at least. We held our collective breaths, but the thing simply kept looking around for half a minute, before turning to leave. It slowly receded back through one of the few man-sized holes in the floors above. There was the distant sound of things falling over one or two floors above us.

“Shit.” Moggen muttered. “Vinesse, orders?”

There was a tense moment of silence as we all waited for instructions.