Damian Franklin

The Sixty extracted themselves down the tunnel and then around the bend. It had been a slow process, if frantic. Healers, those not hurt themselves, took the weight of others to move everyone downwards before any more giants wandered their way. There was a cacophony of cries from that direction, but no appearances.

They had become a hardy people, so no one was too badly wounded by the shockwave. Mostly just broken bones and a rainbow of contusions. Once safe in the tunnel, healing made quick work of those hurts. Everyone was exhausted, but safely alive. The obsidian acolyte had weathered the storm with a modified violet bubble, though he had been tossed into the air all the same. Damian was happy that method had kept him from breaking anything. More importantly, not a single Mana crystal was lost in the whirlwind.

The Hall of Perdition, as he had heard some calling it, had been a wonderful source of Mana Crystals. In both quality and quantity. To a lesser eye, there were barely any differences between every crystal collected. All relatively the same size. The delightful difference came down to Mana density. Using his senses, Damian reached into his bag of spoils and picked out the most powerful one. He would need to check out Anastasia’s bag later too, but this one would work for the moment.

Carefully, though with a well-practiced hand, the obsidian acolyte turned the mad azure crystals into a violet one of his own Mana. An interesting effect had been noticed while constructing his staff. Less dense crystals reacted to more dense ones by trying to thicken. Damian hadn’t been sure how to use that yet, but had thought long and hard about it.

He took the newly processed stone and pressed it to one of the crystalline spots of his staff. Violet Mana flowed between the two by his command. The Mana crystal in Damian’s hand warmed as it softened. Becoming almost liquid in his hand. Slowly, it dribbled and then flowed into the crystalline structure of the staff. A little guided effort on top of natural flow saw the new power equally distributed. The obsidian acolyte was pleased with the results. Successful beyond expectations and there was still room to increase the density with the Mana crystals at hand.

Unfortunately, his concentration was broken when loud voices forced him to look up. Malachi and Warner appeared to be in an argument. Again. Damian frowned. He understood there was friction between the two, but it seemed odd for there to be anything to be upset about right now. They had made great strides upward and claimed several victories. Of course, not to forget, they collected many Mana crystals too. Yet, here they were, fighting once again. The obsidian acolyte looked longingly at his bag of crystals, but he got up.

Perhaps I can stop my friends from fighting, thought Damian.

“We are not going in there,” stated Malachi, an edge of heat to his voice. “This is over. Time to go back.”

“C’mon, Phelain and me took one down on our own basically,” argued Warner. “Yeah, it had some big moves, but they weren’t too bad. And hell, we know how to defend against ‘em now. Let’s go clean out a few, eh?” The big man grinned, a smile that reminded Damian of a hungry cat. There was an edge of cruelty to that expression.

Malachi shook his head, sighing. “Look at everyone… they're exhausted. I won’t ask any more of them. We’ll be back in a few days.” Their leader swung his arm, gesturing to everyone resting. They were dust-covered and ragged. Armor was repairing, but there was little that could undo the weariness in every eye. Many were even napping, curled against the stone, or leaning on another. No one looked ready for another venture.

The brawler’s eyes passed over everyone, his gaze dry. Dismissively, Warner waved it away, “I don’t mean all of them. Just a few of us, those on top of the mountain so to speak. We could have this all wrapped up, here and now. Open up that gold door.”

Their voices echoed, especially the big man’s, so several people were glancing over. Damian saw that some were intrigued by the idea. A hush fell as the Sixty listened. Waiting to see where the argument went.

“No,” said Malachi plainly. “Not at all worth the risk. Nothing to gain from doing that now, over doing it in a few days.”

“Shit, what risk?” pushed Warner. He smashed his fists together with glee. “The way I see it, we try some pulls and then dogpile on any that come out of their lair.”

For a moment, Damian saw what the brawler must be seeing. Quick, brutal assaults on the massive monsters. Acolytes or archers could poke at them from a distance and needle them into isolated positions. Alone against a prepared party, Ratsins rarely lasted long. High attack power, but low defense. He could see it working out, but the obsidian acolyte agreed with Malachi. With everyone tired, mistakes were bound to happen. In The Pit, such things got people killed.

“We’re resting a few days and that’s final,” decreed the sword acolyte. There was a sparkle of silver Mana in his eyes as he spoke. Damian could feel a wave of energy flow outwards with the statement as if the words were gilded. As the imbued words passed through them, he felt inclined to listen. There was also the pressure of those who agreed attached to the statement. Warner’s face scrunched up. The obsidian acolyte guessed that the brawler didn’t have the same reaction to effect.

“THAT’S FINAL, HUH?” growled the big man. Puffed up, there was an invitation to fight in the gleam of the eye.

Malachi looked at him calmly and said, “Yeah.” He held eye contact for a moment longer before walking away.

The brawler jerked forward to go after their leader, but the obsidian acolyte was quick to slide in front of him. The two of them collided into each other. Damian stepped back in one big leap to create distance while saying, “I think it best to listen. Today was a long day and most of us want to go back.”

Warner looked at him wide-eyed as if surprised by the blockade. At the words, the brawler looked around. Several people were looking at them directly and others were clearly listening. Waiting. The big man flinched, grumbling something to himself. “Fine, yeah.”

There was stiffness in the other man’s shoulder that worried Damian, but there didn’t seem to be anything more to do. The argument had been successfully dropped. He was about to return to his Mana crystal study when Malachi called for the march back. Their leader had decided that it was better to get moving now before another discussion could start. The obsidian acolyte understood and decided the crystals could probably wait. Maybe. The memory of his bed was an inviting one.

After all, you should be well-rested when studying, thought Damian. I hope we take a couple of days before returning. There was so much to see. I observed a great deal and now it has to be analyzed!

Roseline Jones

She opened her eyes. The mania had drained away leaving her mentally sore, but the mind was sweetly clear. A metaphorical hand raised to strum the threads of the Tapestry. Images/impressions of the past/present/future flowing before her eyes. Updating and informing her how the world had changed while she slumbered. The incipient seer laughed at the casual reflex and infusion of comfort at seeing the branches of possibility.

Only days ago… thought Roseline. I could barely function with all of this pressing down on me. Now, it’s such a comfort to wake up to. She smirked at how things so often reversed themselves in the most startling ways. In a good mood, she reflected positively on her recent use of the divinations. The mania may have caught up to her, but the results were worth it. A sense of prideful purpose because of her guidance was enough.

First, she focused on the past. Playing forward her vision of the solidified timeline from the moment of her collapse. A decree and unity forged. Forward, charging triumphantly. Power unleashed and mettle tested. To the edge of death before surpassing it to the top. It was as expected. All as she had planned and hoped for. There were some surprises. Minor variances, except one. The weakest of the Sixty had finally passed through the Doors. Roseline had set the weight and nudges best she could, but it had been only a hope. She lingered over the event with a smile. They had come together in the best of ways.

Next, the incipient seer turned her attention to the present. It was easier to view in some ways. A single point in time, but it was also wide while ever moving forward. A thousand choices were being made at every moment to forge the past. Thousands of possible futures wilted as time solidified to what had happened. The raid group was returning, bruised and exhausted, but returning. All alive too. Soon the Sixty would be all together and resting. There would be many smiles when the raid group met those guarding the Vile Fields. The recently formed party of the weak had pushed themselves to their limits. They rested nearby her, waiting to hear the good news.

The future, of course, was a vibrant sight. Rippling threads of many futures, dancing to the possibilities like seaweed in the current. A bright stream of the most likely highlighted the unity that the Sixty would be rising together. Only one thread shivered discordantly. Knocking a few out of sync with it. Roseline followed its future, metaphorical fingers tracing the weave. She smiled. There wasn’t any need for her to interfere there. Those threads were already leaning the right way and should find their rightful place. In the end, some choices a soul must make for itself.

Tension released as Roseline sighed into the cushions of the couch. Her work had been successful. The Dysphoria had been endured and everything ahead looked bright. The Tapestry flowed further before being lost in the snarl of that uncertain ocean. The incipient seer smiled. She decided there was still time to rest. Hours, maybe days yet until the Sixty would need guidance again. The momentum of their current destiny was flowing so well.

Sleep, real sleep was called for she decided. Her eyes closed, not with exhaustion this time, but in the pursuit of true blue rest. The kind of slumber blessed upon those who have done good works. A slow deserving descent into peaceful dreams.

Molly St Clair

The walk down the tunnel was easy, but eerie. Once the curving cavern had been filled with noises. Cries, skitters, and crackles echoing into the ear. There had been the every present rumble that they hiked up slowly towards. Now it was silent. Just the marching of feet bouncing off the walls. The tunnels and caverns had all appeared cleansed. No monstrous rats made their presence known. It was a quiet and contemplative walk. Which is why it felt so off. She expected some horror to leap out at them due to the hushed pressure. The silence was so very loud.

Conversations rose and fell as they moved steadily back home. Never quite growing firm. Often petering out or abruptly ending. Either due to paranoia or that haunting quiet, there was no real chatter. Molly spent the walk counting out the crystals and orbs that had been acquired. Taking it upon herself to make sure they picked up what was left behind until the walk back. She knew Julia would do the final count on everything, but a first count would be helpful. The other woman seemed exhausted and appreciative. Damian was ecstatically pleased that someone was taking an interest.

Despite the oppressive air, the journey was done in high spirits. Most walked with a smile, even if their eyes darted about. Satisfied was the current aura of the SIxty. They had risen to the top of this level and gotten a glimpse of what was left to do. An easy survey informed Molly that most considered the next step to be basically already accomplished. One more march and the golden door would be open. The mood was definitely optimistic.

There, of course, was an exception, Warner fumed at the back of the group. A place of his own making as several tried to make conversation with him. Even cheerful Phelain could only get grunts from the brawler. Molly had never been willing to deal with children throwing tantrums, so she wasn’t interested in bothering herself with an adult throwing one. Which worked for her, as there was plenty else to consider. Though it was distracting enough for the acolyte of curses to give him a glancing check every once and a while.

Why is he taking this so badly? wondered Molly. Malachi made the right call. She harrumphed to herself. Annoyed that the big man was affecting her thoughts this much. I’m likely going to have to pull him out of this funk. It won’t do! This will hurt the morale of the party and the SIxty as a whole! Damnit, Warner!

That train of thought was interrupted by excited cheers. Entirely inspired by the Vile Fields coming into view. Those that waited there gave their own passionate calls in reply. The good humor of the two groups skyrocketed as they came together in a clamor of greetings and friendly slaps. Molly allowed herself a few high fives so as not to dampen the festive mood. She didn’t want to damper anyone’s celebrations.

Through the crowd, the cool-eyed woman went to find Malachi. Smiling and returning gestures. She felt the same enthusiasm, but the organizer in her wanted to know how things had gone down here. There was no doubt in her mind that their bearded leader wasn’t thinking the same.

Molly found him accompanied by Julia to the side of the crowd talking to Zariah Graves. The Council had left the woman unofficially in charge of the rear attachment. A decision that she fully agreed with. The dark-haired acolyte was slow to develop her Mana, but was charismatic enough that only two surpassed her by the acolyte of curses’s reckoning. To her sight, the Mana of Zariah was the essence of tranquility and steadiness. Just being near her was reassuring. All good reasons why this woman had been put in charge of the rear. She may have been without any true spells, but people listened to her. That she had good sense sealed the deal.

“So, everything went well then?” asked Malachi as Molly joined the little enclave.

Zariah’s small smile twitched as she answered, “Well, it was quite the breeze. Easier than last time.”

“Why’s that?” encouraged their leader. “I can’t imagine how things would be different down here.”

“We barely had anything to do,” replied the woman with the ever-present smile. “Rotated rest periods so most were only out here half the time. I stuck around since you were sooo nice to place me in your confidence.” There was an edge of sarcasm to the last part, but it never touched the friendly shine in the eyes. “All thanks to the Coward’s Club.”

“The Coward’s Club?” questioned Julia. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

Shrugging, her long hair swishing at the movement, Zariah chirped, “That’s what they called themselves. Seems Malachi’s speech got the last of us moving into the tunnels. They came in and claimed the Rats for themselves. Struggled a little at first, but got a hang of it after a little while.”

“O’ well that’s good,” said Malachi thoughtfully. “That can open up new options for us.”

To her assessment, Molly agreed. That meant more people were available for the next push up. A greater strength could be brought to bear on the giants above. She decided to take a deeper look at the Cowards Club so that the Council could better plan with their strength in mind.

“Good news aside,” broke in Julia. “We also came to you to discuss maintaining the plug on the Ratsins.”

“Us being well-rested must have had you quite excited,” grinned Zariah. “I guess it makes sense to keep it clean up there.”

“Better the little horrors stay small,” added Molly. “It’ll make reaching the top more efficient. Saves our strength.”

“Of course, there’s a boss monster isn’t there?” exclaimed Zariah with cheerful doom.

Laughter in his tone, Malachi said, “Yes, there is. Which is why we’d like to keep the watch going. I was planning on drawing straws amongst us all, but if you all are willing…”

“You got it,” agreed the dark-haired woman. “I’ll round up the energetic and willing. Send a replacement in like… five hours? Maybe, the Coward’s Club wants another go then.”

“Sounds like a good plan, Zariah, thank you,” smiled Malachi.

“No problem, happy to do it,” winked Zariah in reply.

The group split into two parts again, some of the rear guard staying and others following the raid group to rest. It was time to go home. Molly allowed herself to be taken by the flow of the crowd. She lost herself in thought about who of the rear guard should come upwards next time.

Zariah, the cool-eyed woman thought, would be a useful addition if they could be spared at the rear. The dark-haired acolyte didn’t have spells per se. Instead, more of an active/passive Mana manipulation that was close to psychic powers. Not necessarily powerful, but the quickness of the act offered something worthwhile. Her considerations spiraled outwards from there. Going through all the candidates and possible party formations. She was excited to get back to her room. There was plenty of paper waiting to be used.

Malachi Armstrong

As the Sixty arrived at the veiled entrance, he stepped to the side to watch everyone make it back through. When Julia tried to join him, the sword acolyte gestured for her to go on with a smile. They would meet up soon, but for now, he had a duty to do. Some might think it silly to make sure that everyone made it through. Witness himself that everyone passed through alive. There wasn’t any threat close enough to encourage that effort nor anything to make it necessary. It was just the right thing to do.

It felt good to see them through. Satisfying that he could keep his promise. Together and safely. Those were the words Malachi scoured onto his heart. The Sixty made him their leader and he would devote himself to living up to that duty. It was heavy, but the sword acolyte had never before felt such a sense of belonging. He had fought the Pale One as just a matter of course. Protecting them was his responsibility. Their protection of him though, that stunned him. Validated everything and he would be forever grateful.

As the last person passed through the gleaming illusion, the bearded leader stepped towards the entrance. He looked over his shoulder, thinking of the tunnels that ran onwards and upwards. His thoughts rolled through the pathways, seeing every twist. All the way to the top and their final test of this floor.

“We’ll be back soon,” whispered Malachi and then he too passed through.