Chapter 2: Chapter 1, Prelude

Chapter 1, Prelude

 

The snapping of twigs draws me out of my silent reverie, my head snapping up towards the sound but only seeing the mass of muscle that is Howard. He’s simply too enormous, useful when he’s blocking the enemy from getting at us but not great for my current visibility.

Leaning away from the flickering campfire I peer around his back, trying to locate the source of the noise. Snapping twigs aren’t uncommon in the forest but this had been too loud and too close to be the sound of harmless prey.

Julie, our half elf light mage blasts our small clearing with light, drawing a wince from the rest of us. It’s no use complaining though as she’d apparently heard the same sound, clearly taking it as a possible sign of another surprise attack.

All of us get to our feet. Our frontline dwarven warrior Barhald, unsheathes his axes with fiery vigor nearly cutting into my shoulder in his haste to get ready. It’s lucky his reach isn’t that of a human or I’d been cleaved in two.

“Shit! What is it this time?”

Ormar, our fire mage glares out into the moonless night in the direction we’re all turning towards while cursing, flaming whips manifesting in his hands and coiling like snakes ready to strike.

 

“Grassland wolves.”

Jake, our scout in situations such as these give the short and concise answer we’re all expecting but don’t want to hear. Is this the third time he says those words? I can’t remember.

Ormar’s certainly not pleased but Jake ignores him, or more likely all of us as he slinks into the shadows without making a sound, arrow nocked, bow drawn and dagger held between teeth.

Mister Mason just twirls his strange hat before striking a pose completely unfit for combat and readying his earth magic, preparing to launch stones and raise fortifications. Drawing a clump of earth up towards his face he sniffs and licks it before speaking in his deep, gravelly voice.

“Yes. This will do nicely.”

“Good dirt in this clearing, Mister?”

I can’t help but ask with lips curved in a slight smile as his ritual of inspecting the earth and stone is just so peculiar, even for an earth mage. He whips his head towards me, his dark skin contrasting with the pearly white teeth as he grins widely, his pupils dilated as if experiencing a high.

“Mhm. Perfect.”

 

I draw back and position myself behind the now standing tank as Howard flexes his gauntlets, Barhald next to him with axes held ready but not yet burning. Ormar stands close to me and I prepare myself for the coming battle.

“Don’t burn down the forest, alright Ormar?”

“I won’t do it again! It happened one time. One time!”

Ormar is about to turn around to glare at Julie, standing in the back with Mister Mason. He hasn't the time to say anything else though as we all have to refocus on the incoming enemy as their growling starts. I’m almost relieved. I’ve had enough of their bickering over the past week and this isn’t the time for it.

I pull out my hunting knife from the sheath hanging on my waist as I ready my empty left hand for manifesting my attack spell. The growling picks up in volume and intensity as the previously single source becomes a chorus of whistling, high pitched growls that gives me goosebumps. Not from fright though as it’s the horrible noise itself eliciting the physical reaction, like a fork scratching a porcelain plate.

From the sound of it there has to be at least 15 of them if not more. It’s quite hard to tell with these monsters as their noises blend together in a horrible symphony.

 

A soft impact of an arrow piercing flesh and the howling whimper tells me that Jake has already started culling their number. The growling increases in intensity, a few short barks mixed in and focused into the forest to my right. Is that where Jake shot from? The growling monsters spread out in the darkness to both the left, right and center from what I can hear and I suppose he’s responsible for splitting them up.

From the corner of my eye I see the first monsters rushing out from the underbrush and into the clearing illuminated with Julie’s magic. The grassland wolves are a smaller specimen of wolf but no less deadly. Gray-green pelts with dark green splotches and stripes camouflage them well in high grass. Their eyes are frenzied as they practically hurtle towards Barhald and Howard.

Barhald cleaves the first two wolves in half with a single slash from each axe, showing the usual great control and dexterity in his dual wielding of those heavy weapons. Howard simply punches the wolves coming for him into the ground, leaving no more than splatters of torn flesh and broken bone where they’d been.

Ormar has his focus drawn away from me towards the left of the clearing where two wolves dash towards Julie, his flaming whips flashing out with speed I’m unable to follow. I can see the result though as the flames restrict the monsters, toppling them over onto their backs and turning to ash in mere seconds. Another two coming out just behind them get intercepted by Mister’s earthen projectiles piercing straight through.

 

My golden eyes get drawn from my party members’ fights as a rustle, thud and whimper comes from my right just out of sight between two oak trees. Manifesting a spell in my left hand using my [Manabolt] skill I barely have half a second to prepare before a wolf tumbles out from the treeline on unsteady feet, an arrow piercing its lower abdomen. Jake’s handiwork I suppose. Too bad he missed all the vitals.

I fire my spell straight at the wolf barely hitting it.

How the hell did it dodge from this distance when wounded? My pathetic spell merely scratches its side as it deftly dodges before lunging at me. Wanting to know what I’m up against I use [Identify] in the split second before our collision but don’t get any useful information out of it as the skill is simply too low leveled.

 

[Savage Grassland Wolf - Level ?]

 

Raising my hunting knife and barely dodging the attack in time I try retaliating with a slice to its neck as it passes but miss. The wolf lands before immediately lunging again and I stand my ground instead of dodging, trying to angle my knife just right while avoiding those vicious claws.

My knife sinks into its neck as it opens its jaws to take a bite of my face, claws scratching against my leather armor and carving grooves into it. Pushing against the superior momentum of the creature and failing to keep my balance I topple backwards with the wolf on top of me. Its snapping jaws gurgling blood from the pierced throat, splattering me in the face with each pathetic bark and whimper.

I struggle to hold it back with my knife and empty hand as my knife carves a deeper furrow in the neck with its dogged attempts at getting at me, only speeding up its demise. I briefly wonder why the fuck it doesn’t let up as a claw scratches my cheek and draws my own blood.

I’m seriously annoyed that this mutt won’t simply die and quickly pull out my knife before piercing it through its eye, immediately drawing a close to the fight as it stills in my grasp.

 

Ignoring the kill notification and mentally pushing it aside like all the others I immediately scan my surroundings for threats, eye’s going wide as another set of jaws close in on my neck.

Still burdened with the heavy monster on my chest I throw my neck to the side as fast as I can, tilting my whole body but not managing to completely roll out of the way thanks to the carcass limiting my movements. I barely make it out of the jaws as they snap shut and tear a small piece of flesh from my throat.

Not even considering if my artery is torn open and spilling my lifeblood I trust in my slowly dwindling health points indicator that I’m not on death's door yet. Withdrawing the knife from the carcasses eye I jab it wildly in an attempt to get at my new foe before it’s too late. I partly succeed as the knife sinks into the side of the jaws containing a bit of my throat, locking it in place before the monster cries out and thrash its head wildly, dislodging the knife but tearing its cheek and tongue to ribbons.

As it shakes its head, whimpering and growling incoherently I push with all I’ve got and finally shift the dead wolf off my chest, giving me a chance to get up. Not waiting to get torn apart while lying down I swiftly roll to my stomach before lurching to my feet, knife held out in front of me.

The hurt wolf snarls before lunging and I manifest another manabolt, firing it straight at the wolf unable to dodge as it’s already airborne in a committed attack. Hitting it straight in the snout I dodge aside while grinning like an idiot. It was a perfectly placed attack after all.

I’m sure my attack did little more than burn its fur and skin, maybe cracking its hide in a few places but hitting the snout must have caused some pain at least. Sounding even more aggrieved it spins towards me in preparation for another offensive lunge but don’t get the chance, it’s lifeblood boiling away.

 

“Are you alright? It looked like it got you pretty good there and I was worried.”

I turn away from my opponent who’s no more than ashes and look towards my “savior”, my voice barely kept neutral as I answer.

“Yeah, sure. I think so at least.”

I have to force myself to not snap at him as this is the sixth time he’s seen fit to end an enemy for me. I’m not sure if he’s really thick headed enough to think this tactic will get me to fall for him. It has the exact opposite effect as I’m annoyed as fuck at his constant kill stealing.

I touch my throat with a hand and wince at the pain but am relieved to not feel blood gushing out of the wound and simply trickling down my neck into my cleavage. I’ve lost about a fourth of my total health from this scuffle but I won’t bleed out at least. I’m absolutely filthy though as the wolf I wrestled with covered my whole front in blood, painting half of my long snow white hair crimson.

 

Looking around at the battle’s aftermath, I see Howard squash the last wolf a little more thoroughly than necessary, his full plate armor covered with gore as Barhald goes around opening skulls and retrieving monster cores, looking none the worse for wear but eyes still burning with a fiery glow.

Mister Mason walks behind Barhald, conjuring graves for each body and swiftly burying them all with a smile on his face and Jake stands next to Julie, somehow having appeared in our midst without anyone noticing.

“We’d better get Julie to restore that perfect face of yours, don’t want it to scar after all.”

Julie shoots me a hostile glare before scowling at Ormar but he only has eyes for me, not noticing or either not caring of the jealousy he effortlessly conjures in her. Luckily Jake lightly touches Julie’s shoulder, silently staring at her with his pale, milky eyes hidden behind the long locks of black, bloodied hair. It’s enough to either subdue or smack some sense into her, no idea honestly but she reluctantly approach me nonetheless.

Laying a hand on my shoulder I feel her healing magic flowing through me, subconsciously relaxing slightly as my torn flesh slowly restores itself to the previous pristine, silky smooth state. I try not looking at Julie though so as to not irritate her further and also ignore Ormar’s blatant staring as he checks out my body under the guise of concern, instead turning towards Barhald, Mister and Howard who now walk towards us.

 

“How many?”

“Fourteen monster cores. I’m afraid two got crushed.”

Julie seems pleased with Barhald’s answer accounting the number of harvested monster cores even if Howard looks mildly apologetic about his absurd strength having crushed some. I can’t help letting out a heavy sigh but immediately regret it as Julie turns her attention back to me.

“You think Howard did poorly by accidentally crushing two cores? It’s not like you did any real work yourself, Zelaria.”

I turn towards her and barely manage to restrain rolling my eyes as I meet her furious gaze. She’s spotless without a single drop of blood on her unassuming face, brown hair or black robes hiding the plain body beneath which isn’t strange as her role is out of direct battle.

I want to retort that she didn’t do anything except act as a lantern during the whole battle but riling her up even more won’t make the situation better. She isn’t even correct in her assumptions as my sigh was simply me letting out my frustration. I’d barely managed to kill two of the monsters while my party had effortlessly finished off another whole pack. How can I not feel inadequate?

“No that’s no-”

“I’m done restoring you. Go collect the cores from the remaining wolves.”

She cuts me off before I can even defend myself as she lightly pushes me towards the two carcasses still containing cores, putting an end to the conversation and walking back to the campfire.

I stare after her for a few seconds before shaking my head and doing as she’d said. She’s the party leader after all and I still need to check the notifications from the battle.

 

Ding! You have slain [Savage Grassland Wolf - Level 12]. Experience withheld until class has been selected.

Ding! Your party has slain [Savage Grassland Wolf - Level 18]. Experience withheld until class has been selected.

Ding! General skill [Small Blades] has leveled from [6] to [7].

Ding! General skill [Manabolt] has leveled from [13] to [14].

 

Sitting down and starting to carve out the flesh and brain of the wolf to get at the core I silently think back on the battle. I’d gotten some skill levels but nothing of real interest but atleast the fight was fun until Ormar decided to intervene. I could have done better as usual but I can see some progress as my injuries are a lot lighter than what I got during the last nightly skirmish with a pack of these wolves.

The grasslands covered in veins of running rivers and brooks with groves of trees speckled randomly at different sizes is the perfect territory for these wolves to hunt in. They’re honestly a real menace and the foremost reason why merchants and travelers might need escorts while crossing between towns and cities of the kingdom.

As my party has demonstrated several times now they’re not really a threat to anyone with a few levels and some combat experience but I’m a prime example of someone who’d need protection or risk getting torn to shreds.

I hear heavy footfalls behind me and look up to meet Howard’s dull, gray eyes as I idly remove a lock of blood stained white hair out of my face with a slim finger. He just stares down at me for a few seconds before nodding, clapping me on the back and walking away towards the campfire, seating himself with heavy thud I can almost feel through the ground.

At least Howard tries being encouraging in his own way and his method is probably the most effective. Barhald would just give me a bottle of spirits before launching into a life story on his own troubles, Ormar would use my downed spirits as a cue to display his nonexistent charm and Jake would just stare. I’d be lucky if he even gave me a nod.

Mister Mason hasn’t really been bothered by the drama as far as I can tell. It’s quite difficult to make out what’s going on in that head of his and I might be wrong. Who knows?

Almost letting out another sigh I grab the monster core before sending it into my storage ring before inspecting the burnt carcass from the foe that was stolen from me. Cracking the burnt skull like an egg I easily retrieve the core from the cooked brain before storing it and wiping my hands in the grass.

I’m going to need to bathe again tomorrow…

 

---

One week later.

 

“Ouch! That’s hot as fuck.”

“Stop being a wimp and get in already, we need to get going in just a few hours and this is the last chance of having a hot bath before we get back to civilization.”

I chuckle with the rest of the party as Ormar gingerly lowers himself into the steaming water centimeter by centimeter. He sure is sensitive to heat for a fire mage. He splashes the last distance into the water before resurfacing quickly and shaking his head like a dog.

The waves caused by his hurried movements wash over my barely submerged bust as I hang with my elbows on the edge of the large wooden hot tub. The evening air causing steam to quickly rise, coupled with the lanterns and distant music from the nearest inn gives this bath a special feeling. The contrast of cold and hot stiffens my nipples but not in an unpleasant way.

It’s the last hot bath I’ll be having in a long time though if Julie is correct in her estimation on the remaining distance towards our goal, the abandoned dungeon. I can’t see there being a hot bath prepared in a broken and forgotten place such as that. Even an active dungeon having a hot bath is probably a trap of scalding temperatures to boil the unfortunate alive. They’re not places for a casual stroll after all.

 

We’ve been on the road for two weeks now and this is the northernmost town before we start our climb into the Mistyridge mountain region. The tall peaks can be seen from my position in the hot tub, covered in moonlight as they are and capped with snow. They give off quite the daunting impression and I’m honestly not sure if we’re even going to make it to the dungeon before winter arrives in full. It’s quite late in autumn after all.

Looking around at the other people sharing the hot tub with me I can tell that Jake probably feels the same as I do. At least he’s the only other person staring at the mountains and not at my body. I raise a delicate, almost black eyebrow at Julie who looks up from my breasts before scowling at me and turning away. What’s her deal?

Ormar, Mister Mason, Barhald and Howard at least don’t hide their appreciation even if Ormar comes across as lecherous. Mister simply nods at me before continuing to study my figure as if I’m a stone statue or something and Howard might even have flexed his muscles a little when I looked him up and down in turn. He’s built differently, that’s for sure.

 

We’ve all had to bathe together in the rivers and streams on our way here but this is the first time we’d all actually just relaxed together in the same bath and I’m not complaining as it’s a perfect way to unwind and get some eye candy. Well, I have one complaint. Who the fuck bathes with clothes?

Howard’s over two meters tall stature is honestly impressive to look upon, his blonde birdnest of uneven hair giving him a wild charm at odds with his calm demeanor. Mister Mason is fit enough but neither short or tall. His curled hair with short bangs becoming shoulder length in the neck is quite the unique hairstyle but then again, he’s unique in many ways. His eyes are like onyx with brown speckles and I’ve never seen anything like them before.

Ormar is the spindliest of us all but still quite fit from his long days growing up in a strict and prominent family. His red, lush and well kept hair fit his fire mage class but he really should dump that mustache. It doesn’t do him any favors, giving him a slightly creepy vibe. If he needs facial hair he should go the same route as Barhald as a thick long, black beard with tangles of wiry locks as a cut.

Julie on the other hand… well she’s very average. I don’t know what else to think really. Brown hair, brown eyes and slightly pointier ears. That’s the most interesting feature I suppose. She isn’t ugly by any means but would blend in seamlessly in a crowd, drawing no attention. She should have become a rogue instead of a portable lantern.

Then we have Jake sitting to my left fully clothed as if he was just resting on the grass or something. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take off anything more than his boots and I’m honestly baffled. What is he hiding underneath those leathers? He’ll never satiate my curiosity even if I ask him though.

 

“Are we really going to leave at dawn?”

Ormar’s question draws a few grumbles as no one really feels like even leaving the hot bath, no less moving on from the last town after only an evening and night spent here. Julie puts a stop to our grumbling though.

“Yes. This bath wasn’t cheap, you know? We have limited amounts of coin to spend on lodging when we’re not doing any adventurer postings and I’d like to get to the dungeon before winter arrives in full.”

“We can’t even wait until midday? I’d like to at least eat breakfast at the inn instead of travel rations.”

You are reading story Celestial [A Progression Fantasy LitRPG] at novel35.com

Julie stands up in the bath before looking down on Ormar, waiting for him to look away from me and turn his attention towards her. He eventually does and takes in her body on full display, hiding nothing, I see a small smirk on Julie’s lips as she glances my way before looking back at Ormar and answering.

“No. We’ll need to get going.”

I’m not even sure if he heard her answer as his eyes follows her every movement as she climbs out of the tub, grabbing a towel and walking back towards the inn.

“Did you even hear her?”

“Hm?”

He looks at me looking slightly confused and Howard chuckles as I grin. I’m not the only one finding it funny apparently.

 

---

The wind is blowing harshly between the spruce trees, picking up its pace in the narrow gaps between the trunks. Tiny snowflakes started to fall earlier that morning, getting picked up by the winds and pricking the eyes in a most irritating fashion. Looking back at it now I feel ashamed I even considered it bothersome. Couldn’t it have stayed just like that for the rest of the day?

The snow is now steadily building on the branches. The cold and wet cover weighing them down with such force that the thinning forest can still be heard creaking its haunting melody over the ever increasing howling blizzard.

I’m not even sure how long ago the sky darkened as I’ve kept my eyes fixed forward while following the glow of light magic for as long as I can remember. Like a moth drawn towards the flame. If only my clothes were as dry as my inner monologue...

 

There is a sudden commotion up ahead causing me to quickly look up from my soaked boots and musings. I see Julie get tackled in the back by Howard and succinctly fall face first into the snow immediately followed by the windmilling, unbalanced giant slamming down on top of her.

I snicker, covering my mouth with a gloved hand and stopping myself from being seen enjoying the spectacle. Not that it is necessary considering I’m standing in the back on the other end of our line and with Julie going down, so does our only lightsource. The blizzard and sudden darkness are perfect cover from the others in my party seeing the amused twinkle in my golden eyes. Especially Julie, that bitch would love to have a new reason to berate me.

Sighing and quickly schooling my face into a look of concern, I approach the heap of limbs with the rest of the party just as a new flickering magic light manifests into being over Julie's outstretched hand. Howard manages to roll off Julie just as we come closer, standing in a semicircle around the two struggling adventurers. Ormar who stands closest to me gives his preparatory encouragement by leaning over and whispering in my ear.

“Keep your cool, Zelaria.”

I don't even get to snipe back at him before I have to repeat his words in a silent mantra while meeting the gaze of the woman on the ground in front of me.

“ZELARIA! Help me up NOW!”

Julie screeches her demands of me, it sounds like a screech to my ears at least, as the others make their way over to Howard to help him stand without falling over yet again. Letting out a miniscule sigh I dearly hope will not carry to Julie's ears in this awful weather, I grab Julie by the wrist, place my boots on top of hers, and heave with all the strength I can muster.

Julie should be easy enough to pull up with my level 0 strength but doing it now, our clothes soaked with wet, heavy snow and on such slippery footing proves a challenge. I wish I could just drop her and let her fall back into the slurry of muddy snow and slush. She kinda deserves it. My thoughts are bitter and I push the urge to act on them down.

 

After that embarrassing accident Julie decides I should be the one placed second in line, moving Howard back to third. She explains it by saying that I am the lightest one in the group, after Julie herself of course, and by placing me there she can avoid being crushed if I were to walk into her instead of Howard. Apparently she twisted her ankle when Howard landed on her.

Poor, poor Julie. I internally roll my eyes at that, deciding that not showing my thoughts on the matter is the diplomatic decision. My eyes strain in their effort to remain locked on Julie's back as we start marching once again.

To me it seems obvious what Julie's true goal is with changing our formation. In the very remote chance that I walk into her back when she stops to do her elven tree talking magic thing, looking for the path ahead, she has a new reason to screech and throw thinly veiled criticism at me. In the much more likely scenario that I get crushed by Howard when we make our next halt, Julie can have a good laugh at my expense.

I’m aware I’m not entirely unbiased with my assessment of Julie's goals concerning me but it’s hard to remain professional when our supposed leader takes every chance she gets to push me down in both the literal and figurative sense of the word. Luckily for me it isn’t more than what I guesstimate to be an hour later that Julie excitedly calls out to the rest of the group. We have apparently finally arrived.

“Gather up guys! It seems we have arrived at the correct spot.”

There is only a confused silence from the group after that excited proclamation from Julie. I stare at the rock face behind her which looks like any other rock in this mountainous region. We have made camp against the rock faces of mountains just like this one multiple times over the weeks of journey here.

The only difference is that there isn’t even an overhang hiding this wall of rock from the elements, or more importantly as of right now, the blizzard slowly killing me by hypothermia.

I’m dearly tempted to voice my doubts but luckily for me and unluckily for Julie it’s Mister Mason who gets his confusion under control first and he states his concern in his deep voice still managing to carry through the howling wind..

“I hope you’re not expecting me to create an overhang large enough to shield this rock face from the unholy storm we found ourselves in.”

Julie, visibly annoyed, tries to interject but Mister Mason plows on undeterred.

“Or are you suggesting we excavate a tunnel into the mountain itself in search of the entrance? That would be even more time and mana intensive. We might freeze to death first at this rate.”

 

To everyone's surprise it is Jake who answers before Julie can.

“Entrance up there.”

He proceeds to point high above where the magical light Julie manifested has long since tapered off into the swirling darkness. How he knows this is anyone's guess. He wouldn’t tell us even if we asked.

It is now Barhald's turn to put forward his concern.

“I might be tall for a dwarf but not tall enough to reach wherever you think we're going, lass.”

Turning his head he casts a burning skeptical eye Julie's way. How can he have enough fire mana in his system to passively keep the snow out of his eyes? Seems like the most flippant and clever use of fire mana I’d seen so far as the snow is really annoying.

 

Julie takes a long calming breath, her nostrils dilating with the effort before explaining patiently.

“The trees may be old and wise this far out in the wilds but when they shared their memory of a path long forgotten to a place they have not traveled I think they can be excused for not remembering a slight obstacle they never would have faced.

I mean these trees are stationary so the problem of how we’re going to get up there probably never occurred to them. If they even knew about it.”

Barhald huffs his annoyance but acknowledges the point nonetheless. It’s now Howard's turn to contribute to the conversation.

“Wood,”

He states and pauses before peering closer at something just outside the light to our left. We wait patiently for the giant to continue until Ormar cracks.

“Wood what?”

It takes Howard a few more seconds before finally completing his observation.

“Stairs.”

 

Julie beams a radiant smile at him and hurries over to where he stands. Her light follows her overhead and casts its brilliance upon what is undeniably a wooden staircase leading up towards the edge of the rock face. There is only one problem and this time I’m the first to point it out

“That doesn’t look safe to traverse.”

“Well, Zelaria, do you have any better idea on how to get up there? Hmm?”

Julie whirls towards me, hands on her hips and narrowed eyes looking derisively at me and before I even have a chance to respond Julie continues her rant in that waspish tone.

“Didn’t think so. Now, I will admit that it’s probably very old and not very stable but as long as we go up separately to lower the burden on each floor it should hold.”

Everyone except Julie eyes the stairs apprehensively. Especially Howard who is by far the heaviest of us all. He must be regretting pointing the stairs out now, the poor thing.

 

The rickety wooden stairs leading up into the darkness is more like an ancient scaffolding. Going up, then flat, then up, then flat. Back and forwards and back again all the way to the top. Moss and lichen covers the visibly rotten logs and higher up the wooden construction is visibly withered by the constant strain of the harsh elements in this mountainous region.

Either not noticing, or more likely ignoring, our very logical concerns Julie is the first to board the stairs leading up. Almost immediately she slips and has to grab onto a rotten sideguard to steady herself. It would have been funny if I wasn’t required to follow after.

I do just that as I’m gently pushed forward by Ormar while Barhald, Jake, and Mister Mason ignore my pleas to talk some sense into Julie. But they don’t want to argue with the boss lady, the traitors. She’s honestly grown more ill-tempered and unreasonable as this journey has gone on.

I can’t blame Howard for not helping me dispose of the traitors. He’s shaking like a leaf in the storm, plainly scared shitless of following Julie into a battle where his tremendous bulk will put him in more danger than safety.

 

Going up the accursed stairs is probably the most terrifying thing I’ve experienced on this journey so far. I like to think that I’m well acquainted with danger. I neither panicked or hesitated last week when we were snuck up on by a pack of monstrous mountain wolves in the middle of the night. They were only around level 10 to 25 and easily dispatched by my party of course but I pulled my weight in battle as best as I could.

That had been thrilling, like every battle I had been in before. This however is just terrifying as there is no way to fight off this danger. One has to put their faith in the rotting, wet, squeaking and creaking logs and hope that they are brave and strong enough to ward off the ever present danger of structural collapse.

I would curse Julie openly if I wasn’t so focused on where to place my feet and weight while traversing this oversized deathtrap. Julie at least had the foresight to stick a glowing ball of light once every second revolution. It must be frivolous spending even for her in mana cost but absolutely necessary for everyone climbing after her in the darkness compounded by both night and blizzard.

It isn't long before I lose sight of the ground and the only thing that fills my vision is the rotten logs, cracked rock face, fluttering shadows cast by the magical light and snowflakes sniping at my eyes. Several times said shadows almost cause me to miss a rotting hole in the logs beneath me or miss a hole in the safety guard. They threaten to swallow me up and cast me into the abyss below with the aid of gale and unsteady footing alike.

 

When I finally make it to the top of the stairs I almost kick off and leap towards the solid ground in front of me, barely having the mental clarity to take the last stretch slowly. Walking to the edge of the stairs I step lightly and start making my way up towards a small cave a dozen meters ahead of me, Julie’s form illuminated in the opening as she waits for us.

Two steps later I’m on my hands and knees, scrabbling for a foothold on the unnaturally slick rock. When I finally find a grip on the surface I hurl myself upwards and after several repeats of likewise risky maneuvers, reach the cave. It isn’t far but the slick rock makes my already adrenaline-spiked nerves fray at the edges.

Finally feeling like I have a good enough grip under my soles and won’t be moved easily I prop myself up against a wall and slide down slowly before curling in on myself. Groaning in both relief for having made it and in pain from my scraped knees and elbows. I don’t even look at Julie as I’m expecting to see a sneer on her face that will only escalate into a snide comment on my clumsiness and unlady-like bearing if acknowledged.

The reality is different however. Had I looked at Julie I’d have seen a pale and worried face. Beads of sweat covering her forehead and lips twisted in an ugly grimace. I would have recognized what was wrong at once but distracted with calming myself I don't look up.

I instead listen to Barhald cursing the earth and all that is holy while scrambling to make his way up the slippery slope that’s the last bit of ground to cover. Listening to a dwarf curse the earth is absurd and highly amusing and it helps me calm down faster.

Soon a small giggle threatens to burst from my lips at the grunting and laboring dwarf but he luckily makes it up before Julie can make note of it and I manage to once more calm down in time to help the snow drenched, sweaty dwarf climb into the cave.

“Thank ye lassie. The bleedin mountain is slicker than the army soap I remember.”

 

I’m about to respond but cut myself off when Jake makes his appearance as he quickly sprints up the slick rock with steady footing like he isn’t even bothered by it. My attention drifts off Jake after exchanging a quick nod. The usual quota of meaningful conversation from him already reached with his earlier comment on the location of the entrance.

I would have kept my attention on the small light hovering over the staircase down below in preparation to watch and help the next person up in case it was needed had I not been drawn away from my vigil by Barhald's shocked exclamation.

“Julie! What’s wrong?! Mana depletion? But your bag, potions, how…”

I’m already rushing over at the word mana depletion. When I get close enough to clearly see Julie's face it’s obvious she’s in pain. Her teeth are clenched together as sweat pours from her face and she staggers on her feet. Bahard is still trying to make sense of why Julie let it get this bad without taking a mana restorative.

I know, or at least think I know, what kept Julie from taking a potion. If I’m correct in my assumption then I’m both amazed and appalled by the lengths she is willing to go to before making any hints at an earlier failure on her part.

How has this party stayed tied together, and more importantly, alive? The question flows through my mind for the tenth time. It honestly baffles me.

 

Earlier this morning Julie had complained loudly that it was such a hassle to carry her potions in her ‘potion pouch’ as she called it. Me not being able to help myself had stupidly questioned why she didn’t just put the purse in her storage ring for when she didn’t need it.

Julie, seeing a chance to give me extra work, started explaining that a storage ring required a lot of concentration during activation and retrieval of the correct item. Not something one had time to do in a battle. It was something everyone knew so Julie had been satisfied that she’d managed to annoy me and sealed the deal by ordering me to carry the potion pouch in my backpack.

I have no idea what her reasoning behind the ever increasing hostility is but it’s honestly getting to the point of affecting the whole party’s cohesion and I’m sure the others have also started noticing it. Julie being overly stubborn and vain put the whole party at risk by allowing herself to completely deplete her mana reserves instead of asking me to return her items in a time of need.

I know that this isn’t how Julie would spin it. No, no this will be my fault for “withholding” her potions or some such. I’m slightly distracted with thoughts such as these running through my mind but manage to keep myself on track nonetheless and quickly give the aggravating healer one of my own mana potions affixed to my belt.

 

Julie tosses back the mana restorative and almost at once regains her balance as she steps out of Barhald’s steadying grasp and turns her back on us. Barhald gives me and Jake a bewildered look. Jake meanwhile, searches my eyes for answers and silently tells me to speak up. I always feel uncomfortable when he scrutinizes me so thoroughly but I don’t let it show and shake my head to signal that it isn’t the appropriate time to discuss it.

Jake simply nods and goes back to the edge of the cave to look for the next party member to make it up the stairs. I follow him just in time to see Ormar climbing the final steps before he makes his way up the slick rock. I sigh wearily and always being the helpful woman I know myself to be, call out into the blizzard hoping Ormar will hear my warning.

My voice is meek compared to someone like Barhald, who has something more akin to forge bellows than mere lungs, but I feel myself going hoarse after that short vocal expenditure so it has to be enough. And it seems he did hear me because he slows down and makes his way carefully, if overly cautiously, to the cave entrance without a major incident.

The next to join us is Mister Mason who gets the warning shouted at him by Barhald while merely nodding back curtly, holding his hat steady from the gale with a single hand and continuing towards us step by step. Not slipping even with his theatrically slow steps. Lucky elementalists.

I’m seriously envious of those who can get their mage class with an affinity. Mentally slapping myself for getting myself down with pointless envy I make sure to smile at Mister Mason to offset my ugly thoughts.

 

Now it’s only Howard missing from our group. Howard the heavyweight. Howard who isn’t only the largest, bravest and slowest man I have ever met but also the man who might have the most trouble making it the last stretch of the way. There is a reason his role is designated as our tank.

When Howard's massive form finally makes its appearance on the topmost staircase Julie is once again starting to show signs of mana depletion. I’m however once again too preoccupied to aid her. Barhald’s booming warnings towards Howard make me finally realize the true danger he is in.

I see his giant frame shaking with suppressed terror in the blizzard as he makes his way the last stretch towards the rock. The logs underfoot creak and bend in ways I don’t think reasonable to expect even newly cut logs to handle. Howard is obviously aware of this as rotten wood and lichen cling to his right knee pad where he must have previously broken through a rotten log while making his way up, pulling the scrap material with him.

I don’t manage to formulate my fears into words in time but Mister Mason is obviously thinking along the same lines as he leaps back out of the cave towards the crouching Howard. Barhald, standing next to me, shouts something to the airborne earth manipulator but I don’t really listen as I’m spellbound by the bravery displayed by both men.

 

Mister Mason lands in a precarious crouch at the midpoint between the cave and the edge to the seeming abyss. His knees bend and mana courses through his legs, down his feet and into the slippery rock. He only slides a couple of meters before he’s once again anchored steadily.

At the same time Mister Mason comes to a sliding halt we all hear the ominous creaking and cracking of old, rotten logs saying their farewells. Howard, having been in a crouching position a split second ago, leap forward for all he’s worth. His dexterity and agility being his lowest physical attributes makes it difficult but the overwhelming strength makes up for the lack of precision.

What follows is a surprisingly well timed and coordinated effort between Mister Mason and Howard. When he comes flying up towards Mister they grab each other's arms while Mister forces the earth mana under Howard's feet to help him remain in place. Howard, feeling the miraculous steady footing, sees this as another chance to hasten his journey towards the cave and away from rotten logs tumbling down into the darkness.

His footing steadier than when standing on the rotten logs he launches himself towards us, the unwilling cargo that is Mister Mason trailing behind him like a banner. He makes it a good distance towards the cave entrance and Mister probably wants to object to being dragged up behind Howard in this reckless and rough fashion but smartly decides to focus on his part of reinforcing their footing for the final jump.

With earthen reinforcement barely done sufficiently to carry their weight, the giant launches himself and a trailing Mister upwards once more and they make it just far enough for him to heave himself up the ledge, helpfully throwing Mister into the entrance like he weighs nothing at all.

 

Howard laughs like an idiot while crawling further inside. Probably in both relief and excitement. Mister Mason simply lays limp on the ground where he’d landed, heaving for breath and wishing for sleep. Howard breaking his earth manipulation with raw physical strength must have done him in for the night. Julie is the next to collapse as she faints, cloaking the rest of the party and cave in darkness.

Barhald sets his axe on fire in order to stare at the trio with bemusement. Then he, Jake, Ormar and I look at each other and just unanimously decide to start setting up camp for the night. Some things are not worth getting worked up over.

We busy ourselves with our tasks while the howling wind carries the sounds of our only way up or down from this height collapsing out of sight. Real luck we got to make it up here before it collapsed. Now how the hell are we supposed to get down after our dungeon delve? I suppose that's the leader's problem to figure out.

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