The party walked off from the headquarters in silence. Mireille was leading, Olivia by her side, followed by a thoughtful Marie. Fayette was last, keeping a watchful eye until they were well out of the building’s sight. She had felt eyes on her as they left, and she thought she had spotted the [Lord], watching by the window.
“…Did we maybe go too far?” Marie eventually asked, looking troubled. “I mean, we did all that, but what if he’s not really guilty or anything? I would feel really bad.”
“Hah, getting regrets now?” Olivia asked, walking along cheerfully. The [Doctor] had rather liked being on the other side of one of those. She narrowed her eyes at the [Lady]. “Still… I didn’t think you really had it in you. That was an impressive performance.”
Marie pouted. “What do you mean by that? That I look like some sheltered little girl with no real bearing to her?”
“Yes.”
The blonde [Lady] missed a step, her hair swinging. “You what? I’ll have you know, my education has been quite—”
“Relax,” Olivia said, waving her hand lazily. “I know, I know. You did well there. As for any guilt… I for one smell a rat.”
“Hmph, definitely guilty,” Mireille agreed, keeping up her brisk pace. She was still frowning, but her mood seemed to have improved. “You could just feel it in his eyes. Did you hear how he talked of the [Miners]? No way that’s not our guy.”
“But it still doesn’t make sense,” Marie said, going through their interrogation. “Why would he do all that? Why is he so reluctant to call in [Mages] to handle matters?”
“Fun fact,” Mireille said, turning and holding out a paper as she walked. “I found an interesting bit of info. That guy—he hasn’t accepted any requests to call in [Mage] support for two years. This one was the third time he said no, must’ve finally been too much for the [Miners].”
“Still…” Marie pondered. “Three times over how many years? And how many yes replies before that? It’s something, but hardly foolproof evidence—we need something more. Any luck?”
The [Seamstress] made a face. “Bleh. That [Lord]—he keeps so much paperwork, and it’s not like I’m an expert. Couldn’t glean anything from any paper with too many numbers on it, and I only looked through maybe one-fifth of everything that was in that room.”
The [Lady] sighed. “We’ll have to go through what you took later, then. I’m still not sure this was wise of us. We’ve announced ourselves and made a definite enemy.”
“He didn’t seem too tough,” Fayette said. “I just gave him a look, and he whimpered. Didn’t seem that dangerous.”
“Those are the sorts that are most dangerous,” Olivia said. “But still, I think this effort of ours was worth it.”
“How so?” Marie asked, curious.
Olivia stepped to the right, bumping Mireille at the side. “Don’t you feel better Mirrie?”
The [Seamstress] frowned. “Mirrie?”
“C’mon, admit it, that helped clear your head.”
Mireille hesitated a second, a small grin slowly emerging. “Well, alright, yes it did. The look on his face when I threw that cabinet!” She laughed for a second. “Marie, I need a drawing of that face.”
Olivia cackled with her. “That’s my girl.”
They shared a fist bump.
Fayette looked between the two, at the camaraderie, feeling oddly hurt. She caught her thoughts, then frowned and shook her head. Wait, am I really that possessive? No, relax Fay. It’s good that Mireille is getting along well with the others.
She stayed silent.
“Well, I guess I’ll log that in as a win for us then,” Marie said, head scrunched up in thought. “I’ll see about that picture for you, but first—the mines.”
The mines. Everyone looked to the front. They were stepping into the hill’s shadow now, and the dark entrances of the mines loomed ahead, blocked by simple barricades of wood, like the looming drawbridge of a keep. It seemed to be a quick measure, a wild array of old furniture, mismatched planks, and whole trees had been dragged into a heap—good enough for a makeshift wall. The mines had been turned into a fortress.
A fortress under siege.
[Guards] and other more discrete types were keeping an eye on things. They didn’t approach the mine, but they were watching. Waiting. Fayette counted at least twelve people out in the open, and she expected many more were more hidden.
And we’re walking right inside there, Fayette thought. “Marie, are you sure we should go in there? They seem to be pretty angry with the [Lord], and you’re kind of in the same family.”
Marie shook her head. “They’re my family’s workers, I owe it to them to face them myself. What kind of [Lady] would I be otherwise? I’m here to set things right, so hopefully, they’ll be understanding.”
Olivia was nodding. “This sort of lot, it will be a big deal to them, having a big shot [Lady] walk in herself. Respect pays. I think it’s a good move.”
Mireille looked back. “I don’t think your cousin—”
“Second cousin,” Marie corrected.
“—yes, whatever—I don’t think he ever went inside there himself. Didn’t give off that kind of feel. Might be good to differentiate yourself from him.”
“Yes, let’s hope they see it that way,” Marie said, looking forward. She stepped past the [Guards], who only watched their group pass with confusion.
And then they were there. The hill loomed above, cast in darkness, like a giant tomb. Gruff men in black clothes were loitering about near the barricades, pickaxes and shovels hanging off their sides. They all wore helmets, tough boots, and overalls which were kept up by suspender belts. Every man had the physique of a seasoned [Labourer].
Fayette felt a measure of respect looking at them—with men equipped like that, skills fitting for tunnels, she understood why hunters weren’t needed here. True, they had some grime on their skin, but that was the grime of hard work—she didn’t admonish that. Except in hunters.
The men were eyeing them warily, and a shorter man with a scraggly black beard walked to the front, oversized helmet swinging side to side on his head. He had no shirt under his overalls, and his bare skin was worn with scars and blemishes from a long life of work. “What have we here? Sorry, but this ain’t the sort of place to entertain fine ladies like yourselves, especially with the tension about.”
He had chewing tobacco in his mouth, and he spat it out, snapping the suspenders on his overalls with his fingers. “Off with you—shoo.”
Marie walked to the front, changing her bearing. She stood more upright and stepped every step with certainty, no nervousness being betrayed, and then a [Lady] spoke. “I am Marie Adrianne Du Noelle, and I have come here to resolve this [Strike] issue. I think wrong has been done here and will make sure your men get their justice. I would like to meet with your leaders.”
As soon as Marie's air had changed, the [Miners] had grown wary, hands going to their pickaxes. The short man in front looked over her, eyes no longer friendly. “Is that so? About time someone with a say showed up.”
He gestured at the mine’s entrance, dark and foreboding. “Well, can’t keep a [Lady] waiting, can we?”
He pointed at the others, and they split, opening a path through the barricades for their party. The short man didn’t look back and started walking inside.
After a moment’s hesitation, Marie followed.
Fayette looked at the hill looming over her, and the tunnel inside, lined with wooden pillars as supports. She gulped and walked in, feeling the oppressive weight of a mountain set on top of her. Despite everything, she couldn’t help feeling that she was walking into a trap.
—
The mineshaft was long, but not narrow. There was the walkway, then a rail running beside it, with some minecarts standing still here and there. Magic-powered lights lit the tunnel, an array of gemstones set apart just so the patches of darkness couldn’t grow too oppressing.
Yes, it was a mine tunnel, but Fayette still felt a certain orderliness about it—the place was well-maintained. There wasn’t any trash splayed about or bits of errant rock sticking out of walls. Just the consistent dirt path and stone walls. Even the rail wasn’t rusty or frayed, it seemed to be kept in good polish. The [Maid] rather approved of the cleanliness of it all.
While Fayette may have been satisfied admiring the scenery, the others were growing a little stifled by the eerie silence and lifelessness of a tunnel. For a [Lady] especially, lack of talk was generally a sign of mistakes being made—there was always time to improve bonds.
Marie decided to act. She looked at the miner walking in front of her, searching for the appropriate words. “Mister—sorry, I don’t believe I ever got your name?”
The man grunted, and his oversized helmet shifted to the other side of his head. “Name’s Henri.”
There was another moment of silence. Marie tried again. “So… you’re a [Miner] here?”
“That I am.”
“And there’s been trouble?”
“You could say that.”
“Beasts?”
“Of course.”
“Monsters?”
“Those too.”
Fayette found herself listening, rather approving of the efficient conversation, but Olivia wasn’t quite so satisfied.
“Say, Henri, I heard you have some interesting guests here.”
The man looked back, gaze darkening. “You could say that. You’ll meet them, I expect.”
“Did this idea of a [Strike] come from these guests?” Marie asked, picking up the subject.
The man grunted, and shook his head, helmet swishing back and forth. “Save the words, [Lady], ask the lot yourself. I’ve got a hint of dwarf blood in me, I know what friendly talk gets you.”
Even Fayette felt her mood die down at that.
They passed the rest of the trip in silence, but it wasn’t much longer. Soon a bustle could be heard, the sound of laughter and light conversation. It felt incongruous with the silent, smooth tunnel, but soon the scenery opened up, brightened, and they entered a larger chamber.
A mess hall. Only about a third of the tables were in use, but those that were, were full. [Miners] sat around, chatting, drinking, eating and playing cards. But despite the crowd, Fayette didn’t have trouble finding their target—the leader. Mostly because he was sitting in very strange company.
The lead table where the tall man sat hosted three people, two of very different dispositions. The leader of the [Miners] looked as you might have expected, tall, sturdily built, and skin parched by ever-present stone dust. But the two other men…
They didn’t fit this company.
One was a gangly sort, dressed in bright blue finery, a man with curly blond hair and a friendly disposition. He was laughing as he played cards, jesting, and at the same time—keeping a wary eye on the surroundings. He was first to notice their entry but didn’t make much of a show of it. Just a quick nod in their direction, then he was laughing again, patting the next man on the shoulder.
The man beside him was almost his complete opposite—a figure almost feral. He was hunched down in scraggly dark blue robes which were marred by age and dirt. His face was wild, and so was his voluminous beard. He did not talk, and he didn’t seem to pay much attention to his cards. His eyes were roaming, and as soon as they found Fayette’s party, they locked on, like a predator seeing prey.
Henri led them to the table, and the lead [Miner] at once sat down his cards, face growing serious.
“Sir, the [Lady] Marie Du Noelle has arrived to parlay,” Henri announced, making a mocking bow.
The leader’s eyes moved over their group, one by one, until they focused on Marie. He gestured at the table. “Men, get us some more seats. Seems the time has come. Greetings, [Lady]. The name’s Romaine. I’m in charge here. [Chief Miner] these days”
Marie looked him over coolly. “Congratulations on the promotion. I see you have guests,” she said, glancing at the two other men at the table.
“Ah, allow me to announce ourselves, it wouldn’t do to be rude,” The gangly man said, standing up. He gave a very proper bow. “Greetings, my [Lady]. I am Paul Marat, a humble [Journalist] at your service.” He rose up from the bow, then gestured to his side. “This is my traveling companion Pierre—please forgive his manners.”
Pierre was staring at Marie intensely, and Fayette was pretty sure he hadn’t blinked once. There was something about his gaze, and… Fayette blinked. Is he… measuring her neck?
Fayette moved to Marie’s side, blocking the man’s view, and the bearded figure scowled. The [Maid] glared at him, then admonished Paul. “Your friend is truly lacking in manners, monsieur Paul.”
Paul looked to the side and frowned. “Robes! Stop that! We’ve been over this!”
Pierre shook his head darkly, then turned to glare at Paul.
“Robes?” Marie asked. “Strange name for a Pierre.”
“Oh, just a little nickname,” Paul said, glancing back. He sat down at the table. “We all call him Robes Pierre—you know, because of how he always looks. He saves his words. Thinks it gives them more weight.”
Pierre frowned, then turned to look back at his cards. He still wasn’t talking.
Marie was apprehensive for a moment, but then gathered herself, and approached the table. A few [Miners] had come and set down chairs for the rest of them, so Mireille and Olivia sat down too. Fayette stayed standing behind Marie, ignoring the fourth chair.
“Monsieur Romaine, allow me to express my apologies,” Marie began. She gave the man a small bow. “It is my suspicion that you have been gravely wronged here.”
“Suspicion?” The man asked, voice low and rumbly. “I think it is no suspicion, but a fact. That man Marcel, he’s being damned stubborn about a simple thing, and we’ve had enough.”
“Just how severe is the infestation you’re facing?” Marie asked. “I’m puzzled by his stubbornness in this.”
“As severe as these things get,” Romaine responded. “Spiders. A whole damned nest of them. Don’t mistake me, if it was just that, we could handle that ourselves—we’re not cowards. Trouble is that there’s monsters mixed in. Spiders with a touch of fire laced in. Nasty buggers, burn our wooden supports right up.”
Marie weighed the words for a moment, then nodded. “Look, I believe you, but [Lord] Marcel implied that you were making the whole thing up. Do you know why he would do that? If I found out what he was after, this would be easier.”
“A tale as old as time,” Paul sang out from the side, smiling as if he were a [Sage] parsing out wisdom. “The paranoid master sees every request from a servant as an affront, as an attempt to weasel away from responsibility. The stubbornness of that type could deny the sky and stars.”
Marie frowned. “Excuse me, but why exactly is a [Journalist] down here? I don’t believe you told us yet. Not your usual sort of haunt, is it?”
The man nodded at her, like a parent to a child. “Good [Lady], I am simply doing what my class does best—gathering stories.” He gestured around him, at the mess hall lit by magelight, many now-silent tables full of watching eyes. “It is places like these that hold the best stories man has to offer.”
“Like stories of—” Marie gave the man a measuring look. “—[Strikes]?”
He gave a light smile, betraying nothing. “Perhaps, my [Lady], perhaps. But that is not a skill of [Writers]. Consider me an amateur [Historian] of sorts—I know of many things.”
A new voice spoke up. “Things like what?” Fayette asked, intrigued. She had been running out of books to read, and the man seemed to have a way with words.
For just a split second, Paul looked surprised, caught off guard by the [Maid] speaking out of turn. Then his smile returned to normal. He looked between Marie and Fayette, calculating something, then continued. “Ah, miss, recently I have been writing on…”
He gave Fayette a conspiratorial wink. “—classes. And their relationships. A precious topic to many.”
Fayette felt a shudder go through her as she heard the [Journalist's] words. Classes, and that wink? Does he know—?
The [Journalist] saw Fayette’s eyes light up with interest and nodded at her. He bent down, reaching a hand inside the bag by his seat. “Just a moment—just for you miss—” He took his hand out, holding a book. “—A gift.”
Fayette hesitated a moment, looked at Marie, but the [Lady] nodded. She approached the gangly man, then took the book in hand. It was a thin thing, more pamphlet than book. Fayette ran her fingers along the pages, just a dozen or so of them, then looked at the cover. It had no pictures, just a simple text over blue fabric—Friend of the People.
Fayette gave the [Journalist] a small bow. “Thank you—I’ll be sure to read it.”
Paul smiled amiably. “Make sure to tell me what you think of it later.”
Fayette nodded, then walked back behind Marie, pocketing the book inside her [Apron of Holding]. She would read it later. Pierre’s gaze lingered on her for a second, before returning to his playing cards.
Romaine coughed loudly, looking annoyed. The [Chief Miner] was not amused. “Enough of your games Paul. I appreciate you, but important matters are at hand.” He sighed. “What were we even talking about?”
“About [Lord] Marcel’s odd behavior,” Marie supplied. “Do you have any clues? Any other odd habits from him?”
The grizzled [Miner] thought for a moment. “Not much. It had just been just the usual word from the [Supervisors]—hurry up, dig there, new shaft here, and so on.”
“Do you get the sense that the [Lord] is looking for something?” Olivia asked, taking a sip from her—Fayette blinked for a moment. The [Doctor] had somehow gotten a tankard of ale and was happily drinking from it. The [Maid] hesitated for a moment, then set teacups in front of Mireille and Marie and started pouring some ice-cold tea into them.
Marie nodded thanks at her, but Mireille did not, pointedly ignoring her. Still the silent treatment? Fayette grimaced, then noticed that Paul was gesturing at her. She glanced over, and the [Journalist] silently mouthed the words ‘if you would?’ at her.
She hesitated for a moment, then walked over, gave him a cup, and poured some tea in. The [Journalist] lifted his cup up and nodded at her, smiling as he took a sip. Fayette shook her head, returned to Marie’s back, then focused back on the conversation.
Romaine was still speaking. “—perhaps there is some indication, but we can’t really be sure. The [Prospectors] tend to have these things mapped out, then the instructions come to us. It’s not really any different from normal.”
Marie set her cup down, frowning. “Well, thanks for the insight. Now—onto this matter of the rigged explosives and the [Strike]… I’ll try and get things handled, and once they are… Be sure to remove the explosives. We all want things back to normal, right? Having this mine explode on us would be very unfortunate.
The [Chief Miner] huffed. “It’s our livelihood too, we don’t want it gone either. But what’s to say we won’t be kicked out once we do that? Uprisings like ours don’t tend to be looked on kindly afterward.”
Paul smiled especially wide at that but didn’t comment—the [Journalist] just kept drinking his tea quietly. He finished the cup and gestured for a refill. Fayette ignored him.
Marie was thinking. “We can negotiate on that more later… For now, I can only provide my guarantee that I’ll see your places secure.”
“Do you have the authority to grant that sort of guarantee? Forgive me, but I don’t really know you.”
Marie froze for a moment, then hesitantly spoke. “That—I can only promise I’ll do my best. If things work out, hopefully…”
The [Lady] sighed, then stood up. “We’ll discuss that later. For now…” She looked at Fayette for a moment, biting her lip. “…I’m thinking we do a little hunt.”
“A hunt?” The [Chief Miner] asked.
“Yes, a hunt. Marcel seems to insist that these monstrous spiders don’t exist. I’d like to prove him wrong—” She paused, looking over everyone at the table. “—maybe by throwing one into his bed. Or something else of the sort.”
Everyone at the table smiled at that. Paul started laughing, and Mireille and Olivia got up, stretching and checking their equipment.
“You all up for it?” Marie asked, looking over the party.
“I think we can manage to nab one spider—fiery or not.” Olivia said, spinning a syringe in her hand. “Sedatives should do the trick.”
Mireille nodded too, eager to get going. Fayette felt more hesitant. She picked up the cups of tea from the table, and felt a bit of relief when she saw that Mireille’s was empty too. She looked at Marie, then finally nodded. “We can do this.”
The blond woman turned to the gruff [Chief Miner]. “Could we have a guide point us towards the nearest spider problem? And maybe some advice on dealing with them. I won’t say no to backup either.”
The man ground his knuckles on the table, thinking. “Sorry, but we’re on [Strike]. Can’t exactly be fighting now, can we… as for guides—”
“Sir!” A younger voice spoke out.
The leader turned, looking at the [Miner] who had approached the table. He was younger, maybe about the same age as Mireille, or a bit less. A youth with more pimples on his face than clear skin. “What is it, Felix?”
The boy saluted. “Sir, I was keeping watch on the further mines earlier, and I saw some flashes of fire behind a corner. Might have to deal with it anyways.”
Romaine nodded “Fine, you can go along and guide them. But no joining the fight! You’re too low-level for it, still.”
“Excuse me, sir—” A gravelly voice spoke out. Fayette looked over, and saw Henri; the short [Miner’s] expression was much friendlier than before. He stretched out his suspenders, and let them slap down onto his skin. “—but if it’s to stuff some spiders down that [Lordling’s] breaches, I don’t care about no [Strike]—I’ll do that on my free time.”
He stepped forward, winking at Marie. “Let’s give the bugger a good scare.”
Romaine sighed, but nodded. “Do as you will, but make sure no one gets hurt. I don’t want any accidents from this. Especially while transporting the monster!”
“Relax—we’re professionals,” Fayette said, patting her broom. She looked over her party, feeling relieved. With a more experienced [Miner] at their side, they should have this handled.
—
They took a moment to get their gear ready and maintained, then gathered at one of the many entrances to the mess hall. Many of the [Miners] were watching them go, toasting at their tables. The young Felix was bouncing with nervous energy, while Fayette was thinking over her options carefully.
1 Skill point in reserve, my gear is in good condition, and I’ve got all our supplies. Maybe I should… She stepped to the side and held her hand out toward Marie, who responded with a confused look. “The boon skill of yours,” Fayette said. “I’ll be the frontline, right? Best be ready.”
Marie blinked for a moment, frozen solid, then nodded like a puppet. “Oh, right. Of course. A good move that.” She leaned forward and quickly gave the hand a peck, then turned away, muttering the skill under her breath. “[Boon of the Stone Bastion].”
Fayette felt saw a mark settle on her hand and touched the spot, thinking. She hefted out her broom, trying out her lantern in one arm, broom in the other grip. It didn’t feel quite right; like there was some issue with her MMA, but it would be better than risking darkness. No point stretching this. Boon won’t last forever.
“Well, let’s head out.” She said, after making sure that her party were all looking ready too.
“Lead the way laddie,” Henri said, clapping the young man on the back.
The youth nodded, held his lantern up higher, then started guiding the group forward, stepping into a dark tunnel. It was narrower than the one they had come in, and now they only had their own lanterns for light.
They marched in silence for a while, gradually falling deeper into the labyrinthine network, changing passages here and there. Fayette had a hard time tracking their travel, time and distance had a way of bending underground. Just how far are we?
Then suddenly Henri stopped, confused. He stared at the young Felix for a long second, then spoke. “Lad, that can’t be the way. Where are you leading us?”
The youth jumped, looking at the older [Miner] nervously, then stammered. “W-what do you mean? I’m sure it’s this way, I was just here this morning—I should have a marking up ahead. We just need to go forward a bit.”
Henri frowned, shaking his head. “I’ve worked here longer than you’ve been living lad, and I know damn well this leads to a dead end.” He nodded to the side, towards a branching path. “Are you sure you don’t mean this way? I know that's where they were a few days past.”
The youth stared at them all for a long moment, the darkness hiding his eyes. Eventually, he nodded. “…Okay. Maybe it was that way. We can check. That should work.”
“Right, good lad. Lead the way then, try to remember.” Harri said, gesturing at a side passage.
They started moving forward again, and Fayette checked over her broom, making sure the metal ends were secure. She felt nervous—bouncy. Felix was still leading them, now more animated, glancing behind occasionally. Next was Fayette, followed by Mireille, Olivia, Marie, then lastly, Henri.
Fayette took another look at the walls around them. The tunnel was opening up, and they were now walking in a… cavern? It seemed natural. Still a bit tight and narrow, and the walls felt less secure without the wood implanted in them. I guess spiders would be in caverns.
Suddenly, the boy stopped, and Fayette felt her heart jump.
Felix turned around, looking nervous. “Sir, this can’t be the right way, we’re going to end up more and more south like this, but I’m sure it was in the eastern caverns. I know what I saw!”
Fayette turned, saw the old [Miners] face, then her heart skipped. His expression had changed completely. He was lagging behind the group, a good 20 feet behind Marie. His eyes had filled with tears, and his lines of age seemed deeper. Henri's voice was a whisper as he looked the young Felix in the face.
“Lad…”
Then he turned, flicked a switch on the wall, and started running in the opposite direction. Fayette felt her [Dangersense] flare, and she ran her eyes around them, looking over every detail in an instant.
The segment of cavern bulged out ahead and behind, but they were in a bottleneck, then she looked down. Something had been implanted there... and something removed. Wooden supports, taken out? Something in its place? And she saw a receding fuse, spreading on the side of the wall.
“No!” she shouted, and shoved Mireille back, as far as she could, giving the girl a running start. The others were backing away, but Fayette jumped forward, at the wall, whacking the fuse with her broom. She hit it, saw the spark fade at her swat, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she heard the sound. Sizzling.
She looked to the left and saw that a point the fuse had passed was smoking, with growing intensity. She only had a second to jump away, ducking her hands and face down, taking cover inside her [Maid Armor].
[Skill up: Maid Armor has reached rank 3!]
Then the world exploded around her.
First it was one explosion, then soon followed by more. She felt rock shards hitting her all over, jabbing, but not penetrating her boon-boosted [Maid Armour]. She had a brief glimpse of the young man being shredded into pieces by shrapnel, and a view of her friends, mostly out of the explosion, rocks falling all around them. Marie's hands were aglow with veins of green.
Fayette briefly locked eyes with Mireille, who was shouting, but the [Maid] couldn’t hear anything right now. Sorry.
Then the floor crumbled under her, and she was falling.
Down, down, down, so down.
Fayette saw nothing in the dark, only felt the impacts as she smacked against the wall, scratched herself on sharp edges, rebounded off edges, and rolled down, still moving ever down. Just how far down does this go?
But the boon held, keeping up under the barrage of hits, and she kept tumbling down.
Then she finally smacked to a stop, the final remnants of the [Boon of the Stone Bastion] fading, a spray of small rock shards falling on her head. Huh… So the boon's not about the amount, did it count as continuous, or the timing…
She dizzily got back up, battered, bruised, a total mess, but whole. Her outfit was in rags and her skin was marred with bruises. She saw only complete darkness around her, her lantern smashed. But her hearing was slowly returning. Did the boon protect that too?
She took an unsteady step, then leaned against the wall, her vision swaying. Her hands were wet with blood, but it was mostly just surface scrapes. The sound. She could hear. The rocks were still shifting up above, and little pieces were falling all over—she covered her head. And was that… flowing water? And…
Her eyes opened wide as she finally recognized that last sound, but she saw nothing. Still, it was all around her.
Little and large legs, scuttling about, ever closer. Skittering.
zechamp
This chapter made me laugh more than most of my comedic chapters tbh.
I went and made a TopWebFiction page for this fic! Go boost me there (you don't need an account or login)! If I get... let's say one hundred boosts, I'll post the next chapter on Tuesday! If we get past that... well, keep it up! And so will I.
This arc is finished on Patreon! (one month ahead for 5 dollars!): https://www.patreon.com/zechamp
Next time... spoiders.
The party walked off from the headquarters in silence. Mireille was leading, Olivia by her side, followed by a thoughtful Marie. Fayette was last, keeping a watchful eye until they were well out of the building’s sight. She had felt eyes on her as they left, and she thought she had spotted the [Lord], watching by the window.
“…Did we maybe go too far?” Marie eventually asked, looking troubled. “I mean, we did all that, but what if he’s not really guilty or anything? I would feel really bad.”
“Hah, getting regrets now?” Olivia asked, walking along cheerfully. The [Doctor] had rather liked being on the other side of one of those. She narrowed her eyes at the [Lady]. “Still… I didn’t think you really had it in you. That was an impressive performance.”
Marie pouted. “What do you mean by that? That I look like some sheltered little girl with no real bearing to her?”
“Yes.”
The blonde [Lady] missed a step, her hair swinging. “You what? I’ll have you know, my education has been quite—”
“Relax,” Olivia said, waving her hand lazily. “I know, I know. You did well there. As for any guilt… I for one smell a rat.”
“Hmph, definitely guilty,” Mireille agreed, keeping up her brisk pace. She was still frowning, but her mood seemed to have improved. “You could just feel it in his eyes. Did you hear how he talked of the [Miners]? No way that’s not our guy.”
“But it still doesn’t make sense,” Marie said, going through their interrogation. “Why would he do all that? Why is he so reluctant to call in [Mages] to handle matters?”
“Fun fact,” Mireille said, turning and holding out a paper as she walked. “I found an interesting bit of info. That guy—he hasn’t accepted any requests to call in [Mage] support for two years. This one was the third time he said no, must’ve finally been too much for the [Miners].”
“Still…” Marie pondered. “Three times over how many years? And how many yes replies before that? It’s something, but hardly foolproof evidence—we need something more. Any luck?”
The [Seamstress] made a face. “Bleh. That [Lord]—he keeps so much paperwork, and it’s not like I’m an expert. Couldn’t glean anything from any paper with too many numbers on it, and I only looked through maybe one-fifth of everything that was in that room.”
The [Lady] sighed. “We’ll have to go through what you took later, then. I’m still not sure this was wise of us. We’ve announced ourselves and made a definite enemy.”
“He didn’t seem too tough,” Fayette said. “I just gave him a look, and he whimpered. Didn’t seem that dangerous.”
“Those are the sorts that are most dangerous,” Olivia said. “But still, I think this effort of ours was worth it.”
“How so?” Marie asked, curious.
Olivia stepped to the right, bumping Mireille at the side. “Don’t you feel better Mirrie?”
The [Seamstress] frowned. “Mirrie?”
“C’mon, admit it, that helped clear your head.”
Mireille hesitated a second, a small grin slowly emerging. “Well, alright, yes it did. The look on his face when I threw that cabinet!” She laughed for a second. “Marie, I need a drawing of that face.”
Olivia cackled with her. “That’s my girl.”
They shared a fist bump.
Fayette looked between the two, at the camaraderie, feeling oddly hurt. She caught her thoughts, then frowned and shook her head. Wait, am I really that possessive? No, relax Fay. It’s good that Mireille is getting along well with the others.
She stayed silent.
“Well, I guess I’ll log that in as a win for us then,” Marie said, head scrunched up in thought. “I’ll see about that picture for you, but first—the mines.”
The mines. Everyone looked to the front. They were stepping into the hill’s shadow now, and the dark entrances of the mines loomed ahead, blocked by simple barricades of wood, like the looming drawbridge of a keep. It seemed to be a quick measure, a wild array of old furniture, mismatched planks, and whole trees had been dragged into a heap—good enough for a makeshift wall. The mines had been turned into a fortress.
A fortress under siege.
[Guards] and other more discrete types were keeping an eye on things. They didn’t approach the mine, but they were watching. Waiting. Fayette counted at least twelve people out in the open, and she expected many more were more hidden.
And we’re walking right inside there, Fayette thought. “Marie, are you sure we should go in there? They seem to be pretty angry with the [Lord], and you’re kind of in the same family.”
Marie shook her head. “They’re my family’s workers, I owe it to them to face them myself. What kind of [Lady] would I be otherwise? I’m here to set things right, so hopefully, they’ll be understanding.”
Olivia was nodding. “This sort of lot, it will be a big deal to them, having a big shot [Lady] walk in herself. Respect pays. I think it’s a good move.”
Mireille looked back. “I don’t think your cousin—”
“Second cousin,” Marie corrected.
“—yes, whatever—I don’t think he ever went inside there himself. Didn’t give off that kind of feel. Might be good to differentiate yourself from him.”
“Yes, let’s hope they see it that way,” Marie said, looking forward. She stepped past the [Guards], who only watched their group pass with confusion.
And then they were there. The hill loomed above, cast in darkness, like a giant tomb. Gruff men in black clothes were loitering about near the barricades, pickaxes and shovels hanging off their sides. They all wore helmets, tough boots, and overalls which were kept up by suspender belts. Every man had the physique of a seasoned [Labourer].
Fayette felt a measure of respect looking at them—with men equipped like that, skills fitting for tunnels, she understood why hunters weren’t needed here. True, they had some grime on their skin, but that was the grime of hard work—she didn’t admonish that. Except in hunters.
The men were eyeing them warily, and a shorter man with a scraggly black beard walked to the front, oversized helmet swinging side to side on his head. He had no shirt under his overalls, and his bare skin was worn with scars and blemishes from a long life of work. “What have we here? Sorry, but this ain’t the sort of place to entertain fine ladies like yourselves, especially with the tension about.”
He had chewing tobacco in his mouth, and he spat it out, snapping the suspenders on his overalls with his fingers. “Off with you—shoo.”
Marie walked to the front, changing her bearing. She stood more upright and stepped every step with certainty, no nervousness being betrayed, and then a [Lady] spoke. “I am Marie Adrianne Du Noelle, and I have come here to resolve this [Strike] issue. I think wrong has been done here and will make sure your men get their justice. I would like to meet with your leaders.”
As soon as Marie's air had changed, the [Miners] had grown wary, hands going to their pickaxes. The short man in front looked over her, eyes no longer friendly. “Is that so? About time someone with a say showed up.”
He gestured at the mine’s entrance, dark and foreboding. “Well, can’t keep a [Lady] waiting, can we?”
He pointed at the others, and they split, opening a path through the barricades for their party. The short man didn’t look back and started walking inside.
After a moment’s hesitation, Marie followed.
Fayette looked at the hill looming over her, and the tunnel inside, lined with wooden pillars as supports. She gulped and walked in, feeling the oppressive weight of a mountain set on top of her. Despite everything, she couldn’t help feeling that she was walking into a trap.
—
The mineshaft was long, but not narrow. There was the walkway, then a rail running beside it, with some minecarts standing still here and there. Magic-powered lights lit the tunnel, an array of gemstones set apart just so the patches of darkness couldn’t grow too oppressing.
Yes, it was a mine tunnel, but Fayette still felt a certain orderliness about it—the place was well-maintained. There wasn’t any trash splayed about or bits of errant rock sticking out of walls. Just the consistent dirt path and stone walls. Even the rail wasn’t rusty or frayed, it seemed to be kept in good polish. The [Maid] rather approved of the cleanliness of it all.
While Fayette may have been satisfied admiring the scenery, the others were growing a little stifled by the eerie silence and lifelessness of a tunnel. For a [Lady] especially, lack of talk was generally a sign of mistakes being made—there was always time to improve bonds.
Marie decided to act. She looked at the miner walking in front of her, searching for the appropriate words. “Mister—sorry, I don’t believe I ever got your name?”
The man grunted, and his oversized helmet shifted to the other side of his head. “Name’s Henri.”
There was another moment of silence. Marie tried again. “So… you’re a [Miner] here?”
“That I am.”
“And there’s been trouble?”
“You could say that.”
“Beasts?”
“Of course.”
“Monsters?”
“Those too.”
Fayette found herself listening, rather approving of the efficient conversation, but Olivia wasn’t quite so satisfied.
“Say, Henri, I heard you have some interesting guests here.”
The man looked back, gaze darkening. “You could say that. You’ll meet them, I expect.”
“Did this idea of a [Strike] come from these guests?” Marie asked, picking up the subject.
The man grunted, and shook his head, helmet swishing back and forth. “Save the words, [Lady], ask the lot yourself. I’ve got a hint of dwarf blood in me, I know what friendly talk gets you.”
Even Fayette felt her mood die down at that.
They passed the rest of the trip in silence, but it wasn’t much longer. Soon a bustle could be heard, the sound of laughter and light conversation. It felt incongruous with the silent, smooth tunnel, but soon the scenery opened up, brightened, and they entered a larger chamber.
A mess hall. Only about a third of the tables were in use, but those that were, were full. [Miners] sat around, chatting, drinking, eating and playing cards. But despite the crowd, Fayette didn’t have trouble finding their target—the leader. Mostly because he was sitting in very strange company.
The lead table where the tall man sat hosted three people, two of very different dispositions. The leader of the [Miners] looked as you might have expected, tall, sturdily built, and skin parched by ever-present stone dust. But the two other men…
They didn’t fit this company.
One was a gangly sort, dressed in bright blue finery, a man with curly blond hair and a friendly disposition. He was laughing as he played cards, jesting, and at the same time—keeping a wary eye on the surroundings. He was first to notice their entry but didn’t make much of a show of it. Just a quick nod in their direction, then he was laughing again, patting the next man on the shoulder.
The man beside him was almost his complete opposite—a figure almost feral. He was hunched down in scraggly dark blue robes which were marred by age and dirt. His face was wild, and so was his voluminous beard. He did not talk, and he didn’t seem to pay much attention to his cards. His eyes were roaming, and as soon as they found Fayette’s party, they locked on, like a predator seeing prey.
Henri led them to the table, and the lead [Miner] at once sat down his cards, face growing serious.
“Sir, the [Lady] Marie Du Noelle has arrived to parlay,” Henri announced, making a mocking bow.
The leader’s eyes moved over their group, one by one, until they focused on Marie. He gestured at the table. “Men, get us some more seats. Seems the time has come. Greetings, [Lady]. The name’s Romaine. I’m in charge here. [Chief Miner] these days”
Marie looked him over coolly. “Congratulations on the promotion. I see you have guests,” she said, glancing at the two other men at the table.
“Ah, allow me to announce ourselves, it wouldn’t do to be rude,” The gangly man said, standing up. He gave a very proper bow. “Greetings, my [Lady]. I am Paul Marat, a humble [Journalist] at your service.” He rose up from the bow, then gestured to his side. “This is my traveling companion Pierre—please forgive his manners.”
Pierre was staring at Marie intensely, and Fayette was pretty sure he hadn’t blinked once. There was something about his gaze, and… Fayette blinked. Is he… measuring her neck?
Fayette moved to Marie’s side, blocking the man’s view, and the bearded figure scowled. The [Maid] glared at him, then admonished Paul. “Your friend is truly lacking in manners, monsieur Paul.”
Paul looked to the side and frowned. “Robes! Stop that! We’ve been over this!”
Pierre shook his head darkly, then turned to glare at Paul.
“Robes?” Marie asked. “Strange name for a Pierre.”
“Oh, just a little nickname,” Paul said, glancing back. He sat down at the table. “We all call him Robes Pierre—you know, because of how he always looks. He saves his words. Thinks it gives them more weight.”
Pierre frowned, then turned to look back at his cards. He still wasn’t talking.
Marie was apprehensive for a moment, but then gathered herself, and approached the table. A few [Miners] had come and set down chairs for the rest of them, so Mireille and Olivia sat down too. Fayette stayed standing behind Marie, ignoring the fourth chair.
“Monsieur Romaine, allow me to express my apologies,” Marie began. She gave the man a small bow. “It is my suspicion that you have been gravely wronged here.”
“Suspicion?” The man asked, voice low and rumbly. “I think it is no suspicion, but a fact. That man Marcel, he’s being damned stubborn about a simple thing, and we’ve had enough.”
“Just how severe is the infestation you’re facing?” Marie asked. “I’m puzzled by his stubbornness in this.”
“As severe as these things get,” Romaine responded. “Spiders. A whole damned nest of them. Don’t mistake me, if it was just that, we could handle that ourselves—we’re not cowards. Trouble is that there’s monsters mixed in. Spiders with a touch of fire laced in. Nasty buggers, burn our wooden supports right up.”
Marie weighed the words for a moment, then nodded. “Look, I believe you, but [Lord] Marcel implied that you were making the whole thing up. Do you know why he would do that? If I found out what he was after, this would be easier.”
“A tale as old as time,” Paul sang out from the side, smiling as if he were a [Sage] parsing out wisdom. “The paranoid master sees every request from a servant as an affront, as an attempt to weasel away from responsibility. The stubbornness of that type could deny the sky and stars.”
Marie frowned. “Excuse me, but why exactly is a [Journalist] down here? I don’t believe you told us yet. Not your usual sort of haunt, is it?”
The man nodded at her, like a parent to a child. “Good [Lady], I am simply doing what my class does best—gathering stories.” He gestured around him, at the mess hall lit by magelight, many now-silent tables full of watching eyes. “It is places like these that hold the best stories man has to offer.”
“Like stories of—” Marie gave the man a measuring look. “—[Strikes]?”
He gave a light smile, betraying nothing. “Perhaps, my [Lady], perhaps. But that is not a skill of [Writers]. Consider me an amateur [Historian] of sorts—I know of many things.”
A new voice spoke up. “Things like what?” Fayette asked, intrigued. She had been running out of books to read, and the man seemed to have a way with words.
For just a split second, Paul looked surprised, caught off guard by the [Maid] speaking out of turn. Then his smile returned to normal. He looked between Marie and Fayette, calculating something, then continued. “Ah, miss, recently I have been writing on…”
He gave Fayette a conspiratorial wink. “—classes. And their relationships. A precious topic to many.”
Fayette felt a shudder go through her as she heard the [Journalist's] words. Classes, and that wink? Does he know—?
The [Journalist] saw Fayette’s eyes light up with interest and nodded at her. He bent down, reaching a hand inside the bag by his seat. “Just a moment—just for you miss—” He took his hand out, holding a book. “—A gift.”
Fayette hesitated a moment, looked at Marie, but the [Lady] nodded. She approached the gangly man, then took the book in hand. It was a thin thing, more pamphlet than book. Fayette ran her fingers along the pages, just a dozen or so of them, then looked at the cover. It had no pictures, just a simple text over blue fabric—Friend of the People.
Fayette gave the [Journalist] a small bow. “Thank you—I’ll be sure to read it.”
Paul smiled amiably. “Make sure to tell me what you think of it later.”
Fayette nodded, then walked back behind Marie, pocketing the book inside her [Apron of Holding]. She would read it later. Pierre’s gaze lingered on her for a second, before returning to his playing cards.
Romaine coughed loudly, looking annoyed. The [Chief Miner] was not amused. “Enough of your games Paul. I appreciate you, but important matters are at hand.” He sighed. “What were we even talking about?”
“About [Lord] Marcel’s odd behavior,” Marie supplied. “Do you have any clues? Any other odd habits from him?”
The grizzled [Miner] thought for a moment. “Not much. It had just been just the usual word from the [Supervisors]—hurry up, dig there, new shaft here, and so on.”
“Do you get the sense that the [Lord] is looking for something?” Olivia asked, taking a sip from her—Fayette blinked for a moment. The [Doctor] had somehow gotten a tankard of ale and was happily drinking from it. The [Maid] hesitated for a moment, then set teacups in front of Mireille and Marie and started pouring some ice-cold tea into them.
Marie nodded thanks at her, but Mireille did not, pointedly ignoring her. Still the silent treatment? Fayette grimaced, then noticed that Paul was gesturing at her. She glanced over, and the [Journalist] silently mouthed the words ‘if you would?’ at her.
She hesitated for a moment, then walked over, gave him a cup, and poured some tea in. The [Journalist] lifted his cup up and nodded at her, smiling as he took a sip. Fayette shook her head, returned to Marie’s back, then focused back on the conversation.
Romaine was still speaking. “—perhaps there is some indication, but we can’t really be sure. The [Prospectors] tend to have these things mapped out, then the instructions come to us. It’s not really any different from normal.”
Marie set her cup down, frowning. “Well, thanks for the insight. Now—onto this matter of the rigged explosives and the [Strike]… I’ll try and get things handled, and once they are… Be sure to remove the explosives. We all want things back to normal, right? Having this mine explode on us would be very unfortunate.
The [Chief Miner] huffed. “It’s our livelihood too, we don’t want it gone either. But what’s to say we won’t be kicked out once we do that? Uprisings like ours don’t tend to be looked on kindly afterward.”
Paul smiled especially wide at that but didn’t comment—the [Journalist] just kept drinking his tea quietly. He finished the cup and gestured for a refill. Fayette ignored him.
Marie was thinking. “We can negotiate on that more later… For now, I can only provide my guarantee that I’ll see your places secure.”
“Do you have the authority to grant that sort of guarantee? Forgive me, but I don’t really know you.”
Marie froze for a moment, then hesitantly spoke. “That—I can only promise I’ll do my best. If things work out, hopefully…”
The [Lady] sighed, then stood up. “We’ll discuss that later. For now…” She looked at Fayette for a moment, biting her lip. “…I’m thinking we do a little hunt.”
“A hunt?” The [Chief Miner] asked.
“Yes, a hunt. Marcel seems to insist that these monstrous spiders don’t exist. I’d like to prove him wrong—” She paused, looking over everyone at the table. “—maybe by throwing one into his bed. Or something else of the sort.”
Everyone at the table smiled at that. Paul started laughing, and Mireille and Olivia got up, stretching and checking their equipment.
“You all up for it?” Marie asked, looking over the party.
“I think we can manage to nab one spider—fiery or not.” Olivia said, spinning a syringe in her hand. “Sedatives should do the trick.”
Mireille nodded too, eager to get going. Fayette felt more hesitant. She picked up the cups of tea from the table, and felt a bit of relief when she saw that Mireille’s was empty too. She looked at Marie, then finally nodded. “We can do this.”
The blond woman turned to the gruff [Chief Miner]. “Could we have a guide point us towards the nearest spider problem? And maybe some advice on dealing with them. I won’t say no to backup either.”
The man ground his knuckles on the table, thinking. “Sorry, but we’re on [Strike]. Can’t exactly be fighting now, can we… as for guides—”
“Sir!” A younger voice spoke out.
The leader turned, looking at the [Miner] who had approached the table. He was younger, maybe about the same age as Mireille, or a bit less. A youth with more pimples on his face than clear skin. “What is it, Felix?”
The boy saluted. “Sir, I was keeping watch on the further mines earlier, and I saw some flashes of fire behind a corner. Might have to deal with it anyways.”
Romaine nodded “Fine, you can go along and guide them. But no joining the fight! You’re too low-level for it, still.”
“Excuse me, sir—” A gravelly voice spoke out. Fayette looked over, and saw Henri; the short [Miner’s] expression was much friendlier than before. He stretched out his suspenders, and let them slap down onto his skin. “—but if it’s to stuff some spiders down that [Lordling’s] breaches, I don’t care about no [Strike]—I’ll do that on my free time.”
He stepped forward, winking at Marie. “Let’s give the bugger a good scare.”
Romaine sighed, but nodded. “Do as you will, but make sure no one gets hurt. I don’t want any accidents from this. Especially while transporting the monster!”
“Relax—we’re professionals,” Fayette said, patting her broom. She looked over her party, feeling relieved. With a more experienced [Miner] at their side, they should have this handled.
—
They took a moment to get their gear ready and maintained, then gathered at one of the many entrances to the mess hall. Many of the [Miners] were watching them go, toasting at their tables. The young Felix was bouncing with nervous energy, while Fayette was thinking over her options carefully.
1 Skill point in reserve, my gear is in good condition, and I’ve got all our supplies. Maybe I should… She stepped to the side and held her hand out toward Marie, who responded with a confused look. “The boon skill of yours,” Fayette said. “I’ll be the frontline, right? Best be ready.”
Marie blinked for a moment, frozen solid, then nodded like a puppet. “Oh, right. Of course. A good move that.” She leaned forward and quickly gave the hand a peck, then turned away, muttering the skill under her breath. “[Boon of the Stone Bastion].”
Fayette felt saw a mark settle on her hand and touched the spot, thinking. She hefted out her broom, trying out her lantern in one arm, broom in the other grip. It didn’t feel quite right; like there was some issue with her MMA, but it would be better than risking darkness. No point stretching this. Boon won’t last forever.
“Well, let’s head out.” She said, after making sure that her party were all looking ready too.
“Lead the way laddie,” Henri said, clapping the young man on the back.
The youth nodded, held his lantern up higher, then started guiding the group forward, stepping into a dark tunnel. It was narrower than the one they had come in, and now they only had their own lanterns for light.
They marched in silence for a while, gradually falling deeper into the labyrinthine network, changing passages here and there. Fayette had a hard time tracking their travel, time and distance had a way of bending underground. Just how far are we?
Then suddenly Henri stopped, confused. He stared at the young Felix for a long second, then spoke. “Lad, that can’t be the way. Where are you leading us?”
The youth jumped, looking at the older [Miner] nervously, then stammered. “W-what do you mean? I’m sure it’s this way, I was just here this morning—I should have a marking up ahead. We just need to go forward a bit.”
Henri frowned, shaking his head. “I’ve worked here longer than you’ve been living lad, and I know damn well this leads to a dead end.” He nodded to the side, towards a branching path. “Are you sure you don’t mean this way? I know that's where they were a few days past.”
The youth stared at them all for a long moment, the darkness hiding his eyes. Eventually, he nodded. “…Okay. Maybe it was that way. We can check. That should work.”
“Right, good lad. Lead the way then, try to remember.” Harri said, gesturing at a side passage.
They started moving forward again, and Fayette checked over her broom, making sure the metal ends were secure. She felt nervous—bouncy. Felix was still leading them, now more animated, glancing behind occasionally. Next was Fayette, followed by Mireille, Olivia, Marie, then lastly, Henri.
Fayette took another look at the walls around them. The tunnel was opening up, and they were now walking in a… cavern? It seemed natural. Still a bit tight and narrow, and the walls felt less secure without the wood implanted in them. I guess spiders would be in caverns.
Suddenly, the boy stopped, and Fayette felt her heart jump.
Felix turned around, looking nervous. “Sir, this can’t be the right way, we’re going to end up more and more south like this, but I’m sure it was in the eastern caverns. I know what I saw!”
Fayette turned, saw the old [Miners] face, then her heart skipped. His expression had changed completely. He was lagging behind the group, a good 20 feet behind Marie. His eyes had filled with tears, and his lines of age seemed deeper. Henri's voice was a whisper as he looked the young Felix in the face.
“Lad…”
Then he turned, flicked a switch on the wall, and started running in the opposite direction. Fayette felt her [Dangersense] flare, and she ran her eyes around them, looking over every detail in an instant.
The segment of cavern bulged out ahead and behind, but they were in a bottleneck, then she looked down. Something had been implanted there... and something removed. Wooden supports, taken out? Something in its place? And she saw a receding fuse, spreading on the side of the wall.
“No!” she shouted, and shoved Mireille back, as far as she could, giving the girl a running start. The others were backing away, but Fayette jumped forward, at the wall, whacking the fuse with her broom. She hit it, saw the spark fade at her swat, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she heard the sound. Sizzling.
She looked to the left and saw that a point the fuse had passed was smoking, with growing intensity. She only had a second to jump away, ducking her hands and face down, taking cover inside her [Maid Armor].
[Skill up: Maid Armor has reached rank 3!]
Then the world exploded around her.
First it was one explosion, then soon followed by more. She felt rock shards hitting her all over, jabbing, but not penetrating her boon-boosted [Maid Armour]. She had a brief glimpse of the young man being shredded into pieces by shrapnel, and a view of her friends, mostly out of the explosion, rocks falling all around them. Marie's hands were aglow with veins of green.
Fayette briefly locked eyes with Mireille, who was shouting, but the [Maid] couldn’t hear anything right now. Sorry.
Then the floor crumbled under her, and she was falling.
Down, down, down, so down.
Fayette saw nothing in the dark, only felt the impacts as she smacked against the wall, scratched herself on sharp edges, rebounded off edges, and rolled down, still moving ever down. Just how far down does this go?
But the boon held, keeping up under the barrage of hits, and she kept tumbling down.
Then she finally smacked to a stop, the final remnants of the [Boon of the Stone Bastion] fading, a spray of small rock shards falling on her head. Huh… So the boon's not about the amount, did it count as continuous, or the timing…
She dizzily got back up, battered, bruised, a total mess, but whole. Her outfit was in rags and her skin was marred with bruises. She saw only complete darkness around her, her lantern smashed. But her hearing was slowly returning. Did the boon protect that too?
She took an unsteady step, then leaned against the wall, her vision swaying. Her hands were wet with blood, but it was mostly just surface scrapes. The sound. She could hear. The rocks were still shifting up above, and little pieces were falling all over—she covered her head. And was that… flowing water? And…
Her eyes opened wide as she finally recognized that last sound, but she saw nothing. Still, it was all around her.
Little and large legs, scuttling about, ever closer. Skittering.
zechamp
This chapter made me laugh more than most of my comedic chapters tbh.
I went and made a TopWebFiction page for this fic! Go boost me there (you don't need an account or login)! If I get... let's say one hundred boosts, I'll post the next chapter on Tuesday! If we get past that... well, keep it up! And so will I.
This arc is finished on Patreon! (one month ahead for 5 dollars!): https://www.patreon.com/zechamp
Next time... spoiders.
