/The third floor has a new beast.
In the last week, two dozen climbers have vanished near the ruined Wayfarer’s hall. But it’s not just the lack of guides. There’s something down there. We know, because people lived.
They say it’s a monster wrapped in green. A thing that commands the flora as naturally as breathing. A chosen champion of the forest, waging war against any who’d take more than they deserve. It plays by all the rules, it’s incredibly fair, and you must never, ever talk to it.
They say that when you utter a word while it listens, you’re lost. They say that if you hear it return a sentence, you’re dead. It twists the truth, it lies and tricks, it enchants and draws in. Do not dance with it. Do not play with it. Do not interact with it.
When the one wrapped in moss shows up, stay silent. Hold your breath, close your eyes, and hope it passes by. Always remember the rules. Always show respect. But never speak to it./
-Recent note added to booklets on climbing the third floor, author anonymous, information verified.
- - -
PoV: Sylves - Titania
I am alone again.
It’s a strange thought. But when the world ended, that’s precisely what I was. And now that it’s all said and done, it’s that way again, isn’t it? Two months. And I’m alone again.
A thin smile spreads on my lips. I was by myself in a forest back then, and I am by myself in a forest again now. “Shhhh,” I whisper, delicately running my fingers through the fur of a minotaur next to me. “You can rest. You’re safe now,” I say.
The low groan next to me quiets, returning back to snoring. There are three of them, the minotaurs, all asleep. I look at their sleeping forms, and nod slowly. They were useful. Really, they were. But everyone deserves their breath of freedom.
Gently, I move the minotaur’s head from my lap and place it on the forest floor. It rests softly on the leaves, almost welcoming. Perhaps even at home. That, too, is an effect of [Hospitality]. Forests are my home, after all, so in some ways, I can grant safety here.
I breathe and rise into the air. The wind picks me up softly and with a whisper. Yes, I’m all alone. Or I will be in a moment, at least, as the breeze wraps around me and carries me away, deeper into the jungle.
There’s a hum in the air. An energy. That of truth, as my lies come undone. Snow is out there, and I have to find my friend. But I cannot find my friend if I don’t advance to the fourth floor, unless I learn the layout of the jungle… I could seek them out here. I know I could. I’m a fairy, and fairies are at home in the woods.
Especially one as old and magnificent as this one.
But I won’t. I won’t seek out Snow, or Opal, or anyone else. Because I love them. And it’s been very, very long since I’ve played a proper trick. So, this place that feels like home, that feels welcoming to me at my very core, I embrace it. I drift into the forest, past trees, past vines. I hum my [Song], an enchanted lullaby, and all the vines that rear up to eat me fall asleep.
One of them stands out to me. “My, aren’t you precious?” I ask quietly. My voice comes out a whisper, slightly off, too-melodic. Gently, I wrap the vine around my arm, its thorns brushing harmlessly against my skin. It has a dragon-looking head, seeming more like a snake than a plant, but when I hum to it, all it does is lay there, curled up against me.
Smiling into the darkness between trees, I draw my Mantle tighter. It’s a wonderful thing, a leaf-green cape, made from shifting moss. It changes colours with the light, or my will, and it rests comfortably on my shoulders, malleable and beautiful. I could transform it into a storm of autumn leaves, or perhaps into the smell of summer rain, but I don’t. For now, green will serve me just fine.
And then, I hum my song, and delve into the forest. Into the place that already knows it is my home.
[The Earthmother welcomes you.]
I smile, knowing that there is a place for me in this quiet forest. And so, I go deeper. This place, after all, is precious. And if I prove worthy of it, perhaps it will unveil its secrets to me?
If that means playing a [Violent Trick] or two, well… if it’s against those who’d destroy nature, I don’t mind that much at all. I’ll lie and trick and butcher them as much as the forest likes.
- - -
PoV: Opal Kingston - Gem
[Priest, lv. 80]
[Soothsayer, lv. 80]
Snow stands next to me. In front of us, there are two enemies. They’re strong. Incredibly strong. Imprints of climbers more powerful than us, stored by the Tower and placed back here so we could prove our metal.
My lips split into a grin, and I see Snow doing the same thing next to me. To our little antimage, this must be a gift box. Every single skill the priest had, delivered in a nice package with a bow on top. By now, I think that someone’s beginning skills tend to stick around and become an important part of whatever build they go for, so having their blueprints, even when the real deal is more advanced, will let Snow prepare.
And for me?
I get to prove that I’m better than them. That I can reach higher. My mantle flutters in response to the situation. It’s a purplish black, royal and gilded, settling around my shoulders and billowing behind me like a knight’s cape. It makes me look every bit the hero I want people to see me as.
My fingers squeeze around the handle of my blade. I wait for Snow to speak. The two memories stand frozen in front of us, as if not yet properly released by the tower.
“Hey Opal?” my friend’s voice comes, perfectly calm as they stretch out their remaining hand toward the targets.
“Yeah?” I ask, knowing the next line already.
“Let’s break them.”
Without replying, I [Blink]. The distance between me and the imprints disappears. Space warps, as I reappear mid-swing. Little trick I learned, starting up a motion and carrying it to fruition when I reappear.
Sadly, they react in time. The soothsayer, a sumeen, brings up a long strip of cloth, and my sword slides against it. I cut off a long strip from its side, but the remainder of it tries to wrap around my neck and strangle me.
Another blink carries me behind them, a thrust coming out, only for their mantle to wrap around my blade, trapping it in layer and layers of dense fabric. Instantly, the metal disappears from my hands, unsummoned, as I teleport backwards. “Whoowee,” I whistle. “Tough crowd.”
“Dodge left,” Snow advises me calmly, and I instantly throw myself to the side.
A searing beam of light passes through where my head had just been, and I am left on the floor, blinking in surprise. Then, a laugh bubbles out of my chest. “Warn me earlier, you bastard!” My [Bound Armament] reappears, and I [Blink] again. Another strike against fabric, another delicate dance backwards to dodge.
The priest tries to grab me from behind, but he’s slow. I can feel Snow’s skill wrapped around him, squeezing his stats down. He’s a mage, and I’m fast for my level, so I quickly disappear from his grasp, only to find a bit of fabric yanking my feet out from under me.
I [Blink] before my head crashes into the ground, reemerging almost fully horizontally. Distantly, I think that I should probably learn how to spin myself while blinking. What a fun experiment that would be!
Again, I get a faceful of cloth - or I would, but the threads fray and break apart. The brittle fabric doesn’t hold me, and my slash easily pierces through, finding flesh. I carve a gouge into the soothsayer’s shoulder, only for the damned priest to instantly mend it shut in a flash of light.
Snow, however, grins. “Make them show me more, Opal. I need all their skills. Everything they have.”
A shiver runs up my spine, but I laugh anyway. “Say it like less of a creep, damn it!”
In response, all I get is a tilt of the head. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignore the antics, and simply move again, slashing the empty air. I know it won’t hit, and it doesn’t need to. The priest steps forward at me, his hands glowing with a bright mark, though that light is already flickering as waves of Snow’s mana crash against it. Still, I don’t let him reach me.
The soothsayer reaches out silently, trying to draw their companion back, but it doesn’t matter. All at once, the [Echoes] of my half-dozen swings carve through reality.
[Echo 16 > 17]
I smile brightly as blood spills from wounds onto the facsimile of grass. It’s only a memory, and a fake battlefield. There’s nothing to swing from, no fun to be had, no cover and nothing to throw… but I love it.
The way my sword whirls around me, cutting cloth and flesh. The searing heat as I barely dip out of the way of yet another ray of light. Streaks of cloth that seek me out wherever I am, always one step ahead, forcing me to blink into another budding nest of them, like a noose drawing tighter.
The priest draws a knife, cloaking it in gold. He flickers forward in a motion that is unnatural. I see his legs break and snap back into place a second later as the knife breaks my skin, digging into my insides, and I grit my teeth.
[Diamond in the Rough 9 > 10]
With the breakthrough of the skill into the thirst Threshold, I can feel my skin toughening up, tightening around the dagger and holding it in place. The priest tries to wrench it out with a pull, but a quick slash draws a line of blood from his forehead, even as he stumbles back.
I sneer, teleporting back to Snow’s side, and instantly, the dagger leaves my body with a wretched pull. It sounds like being drawn from a sheath.
Mana floods my wound, and my skin knits itself together. “Huh,” Snow notes. “You’re… different.”
“I’m a gem, baby,” I say smugly, instantly diving forward again, as soon as my skin is back in one piece.
A needle of cloth wrapped tightly on itself unravels in front of my face. The fraying threads splash harmlessly against my forehead, rather than stabbing right through my eye. My heart speeds up. I blink. More cloth wraps around me, and I blink again. I swing my blade, carving through the cloth as Snow casts an enchantment on it.
I can feel blood rushing through my veins. The way my mind rumbles through ideas, roaring with the desire to try them. I grin.
No better time to experiment than now.
[Blink] compresses and folds in on itself, as I force it to stay in place. It’s a disgusting misuse of the spell, but I know it’ll forgive me.
[Blink 19 > 20]
It ticks upwards as I create the horrid pocket of space, wrenching my mind against it. There’s a piece of cloth that splashes harmlessly against my abs, slowed down by Snow. The priest approaches me with a glowing hand, and yet I remain there, wrangling the skill.
I fold it and stretch it, and channel the mana through the runes on my blade. The [Bound Armament] reinforces the spell, pushing my will against it. A thousand fraying threads try to escape me, but with all the finesse of a raging bull, I grab them, and hold them tight.
Then, all at once, I force the twisting mass of mana forward, stabbing at the clothmancer at the same time.
My stab shouldn’t have hit. I was too far away. Logically, I could not have gotten close enough.
And yet, the tip of my sword buried all the way through and out the back of his chest, elongated by a purple, writhing mass of stretched steel. It screams, and as the internal mana field of the soothsayer crashes into it, the abominable construction explodes, tearing chunks out of his flesh.
[New Skill acquired!]
[Spatial Rend 0 > 1]
I laugh, loudly, as the priest casts more healing. More mana pours into the wound, and I look at it heal, as with every cast…
That light grows fainter and fainter. Their magic comes apart, turning into worthless toys as Snow breaks it. So I gotta make sure to have my fun while it lasts.
Bringing my blade to my shoulder, I prepare for another thrust, then lunge forwards.
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