The Pinnacle Warrior

The party ribbed Benedict a little as he flushed all the way to his neck. Once he was able to get his emotions under control, he talked a big game about how he was so proficient at storytelling and so on, but he was unable to fool any of the watchers. Regardless, Astrid just grinned, happy to see that her companion was able to, at least in the heat of the moment, get over his difficulties with performing in front of people. Of course, that wouldn’t be lasting in any way, but it was a first step.

Once they rested that night, Astrid had to force herself not to get out of the inn and moving towards the Dungeon long before daybreak. They were in the throes of winter, and the sun didn’t rise until late in the day. Even so, Klara had said in no uncertain terms that every delver was expected to meet the Silver Wind party and Astrid wasn’t about to ignore that. Especially since she was going to be delving very near the Steel tier party before too long and would probably be one of the delvers that brought them their supplies.

Despite wanting to get into the Dungeon faster, Astrid couldn’t go yet but she also refused to just just take the morning off. With her breath making clouds in front of her, Astrid drilled herself in the particular movements of killing blows for irregular gnolls. They were larger and much hardier than their furred counterparts, so she couldn’t be nearly so casual with her strikes. Instead, she needed to focus on the skull, the spine, and if unable to kill, the legs.

After drilling herself for nearly an hour, Astrid settled into an easy stance and moved through a series of simple movements to make sure she didn’t get too stiff as she cooled down. Between Quick Recovery, and her constantly climbing level, Astrid recovered faster than she ever imagined possible. Sure, when she was delving and putting her entire strength into every hit, she required significantly more time to recover, but when she was just training like this, recovery was quick.

“You can always tell when someone’s working hard in the winter. I mean, you’re steaming like a pot of soup.“

Astrid returned with a wry smile, her vision meeting somebody unfamiliar. The hoarse baritone voice belonged to a man, his blonde hair hanging to his shoulders and pulled back in a loose tail. Blue eyes and a scattering of stubble across his chin paired with the rest of his look to make for a handsome if seemingly unconcerned and nondescript person. He wore unremarkable clothing, and, if he weren’t notably good looking, Astrid would probably forget what he looked like the second that she turned away from him.

“Maybe I’m just crazy.” Astrid retorted, on her guard. There was something Skill-related with how her perception of him shifted, and she figured he was one of the members of the Silver Wind. “Even if I am, though, I feel like I always need to train more. Better to be extra trained than to fail because I didn’t want to spend another minute making sure I was reinforcing all my training, you know? And I can do so better than most, you know?” She referenced it obliquely, but she’d taken Felix and Benedict into her confidence about her third Skill, and they knew more or less what it did for her.

“Fair enough. Training on killing and crippling blows on human sized and shaped opponents, are you?” He asked as he stepped in front of her. He was tall, though not compared to her. While Astrid measured a bit over 210 centimeters, this man was “only“ something like 195 centimeters tall. He was sure to tower over most people, but in her party, he would fall squarely in the middle.

“Yeah. Klara, the Guild’s representative, says that we’ll be running into more and more irregulars. I figured I should practice to make sure that I instinctively go for their heads and legs instead of their bodies; those brawlers specifically can block a careless strike without too much difficulty.”

The man hummed appreciatively. Then, he finally introduced himself, saying, “Christophe Gloomstalker, at your service.”

“Ah, that explains the attention thing.“ Astrid nodded appreciatively, then realized that she just neglected to give her own name. “Sorry, I’m Astrid Warrior. I’m assuming you’re one of the members of the Silver Wind?”

Again, Christophe nodded as he said, “I’m glad to meet you. Tell me, how’s the food here?”

Despite her confusion at the question, Astrid grunted. “It’s good, I’m just getting really sick of it. Not a whole lot of variety, you know?”

“So it hasn’t changed?“ Christophe asked, a genuine smile cracking his face. It was only at that moment that Astrid noted the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, hinting that he was probably much older than she was. Well, that plus the fact that he was Steel tier.

“You used to delve here?” She asked.

“Yep. It’s been… I think 12 years? Honestly, I don’t pay a whole lot of attention to the passing of the years at this point. I’m getting old, time keeps passing, and I’m at least 32. More than that, I couldn’t tell you until I actually sat down at a calendar and did some math, and I can’t think of anybody who really wants to do that.”

“I can’t say that I disagree with you.” Astrid smiled as she pulled her helmet free and a handkerchief from her hip. She wiped the sweat from her face and watched for Christophe’s reaction to how she looked. His eyes hadn’t seemed to react at all to how she looked, and she squinted for a brief moment, seeing if there were tells she hadn’t noted. That was enough for him to know, seemingly, what she was thinking, and he shrugged as he smiled a bit.

“I’m sure you don’t have a whole lot of experience with Steel tiers,” Astrid had to fight to keep herself from twitching at that, “so I’ll just explain to you a little bit about how different things are at this echelon. You see, once somebody has attributes above 100, they’re not really Human like you are anymore. In this particular case, my Acumen has passed 100, and I could see your face through the slits of your helmet. You seem to think that I was going to be concerned about your skin and hair color, but I could tell from a mile away that you were, in fact, a Human who simply shared some visual traits with a Barbarian. However, you do not carry the same scent of mana that they do, as they…”

Astrid immediately went from feeling like this was a good opportunity to network with somebody who was her senior in delving to wanting to do nothing more than punch the blowhard in the face. Unfortunately, even if she tried to do that, she wouldn’t be able to land a blow on the bastard, so instead, she just slowly turned and made her way into the inn, though Christophe continued to follow her as he jabbered incessantly.

“… When we were in the Dungeon proper, which is quite different from the branches that you’ve experienced, yes, we were down at least 20 floors, and I’d shot several orcs in the eye. You might not understand how difficult that is, because they have tiny little piggy eyes and thick brows that protect their eyes. Truly, they’re ugly beasts, but I was able to take them out before too long. After all, I’ve been—“

“Christophe, you chatty bastard!“ Another man’s voice cut through the air, and Christophe blurred back as he dodged out of the way of a grasping, thickly scarred hand. The owner of the other hand seemed to see that coming, and a second, matching hand shot out, grabbed the blonde man by the back of his neck, and forced it down into a bowing position. Christophe grunted and cursed continuously under his breath, but the other man, presumably one of his party members, met Astrid‘s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never met somebody more in love with himself than this lanky troglodyte, and I can see that he’s been up to his usual tricks of talking all about himself and not listening to anybody else. I’m sorry about that, I swear we’re trying to fix it, but he refuses to get any better. Honestly, it would probably be better for all of us if we managed to cut his tongue out, but he’s too tricky for that. And it’s frowned on by polite society to mutilate your party members.”

The other man speaking had dark hair, cropped short on the sides and eyebrow length on the top, his eyes as dark of a brown as his hair. His face too was peppered with stubble, but somehow, Astrid got the impression that this man simply hadn’t found time to shave while Christophe cultivated the look. The dark haired man had broad shoulders, so thick that despite wearing a loose tunic, they strained the fabric and pulled the strings holding the neck closed apart. His hands and forearms were covered with thick, gnarled scars, and he obviously had a Class that was at least partially focused on Alacrity, given that he was able to sneak up on and catch the advanced Ranger class that Christophe professed to have.

“Well…“ Astrid trailed off, unsure of how to respond to what might be taken as an insult to a man dozens of times her level.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know how he is, and I’ll keep him out of trouble. He snuck out when we weren’t paying enough attention, but we’ll make sure that he stays close from here on out. By the way, my name is Tristan Pugilist, leader of the Silver Wind.“ He smiled a little as he continued to hold a white knuckled grip on the back of Christophe‘s neck. As soon as the Ranger started to stand up straight, he suddenly poofed into a column of smoke and reappeared somewhere else deeper into the inn’s main room.

While Tristan rubbed his forehead, Astrid nodded knowingly. She had a Rogue that was sometimes a problem, though in a different way, and she felt that same exasperation that Tristan did, though she suspected that Muti was much better intentioned than Christophe.

“Pleasure to meet you…“

“Astrid Warrior.“

“Astrid Warrior.“ He nodded twice. “Thanks for bringing him in, even though it wasn’t necessarily your intention to do so. I’m gonna track him down, keep him from getting into too much more trouble, hope to see you in the Dungeon at some point.“

He didn’t say anything more as he walked confidently through the crowded room while making eye contact with Christophe. Though he obviously was unhappy with that turn of events, the Ranger waited for his party leader to catch up to him before he continued walking. Astrid liked to imagine that she could hear the conversation between the two as they met up with their other three party members.

Because of how quickly the introduction and split had been, it took Astrid several seconds to realize that Tristan was, effectively, a glimpse into what Markus could have been. A Pugilist well into the ranks of Steel, and confidently leading his party. Again, she couldn’t help but hate Pyra’s benefactors, the noble who had murdered two and kidnapped two more, press ganging them into service. Astrid forced the thought from her mind as Klara stepped forward and shook hands with Tristan and the rest of his party.

With a Ranger and a Pugilist, Astrid tried to figure out what roles the other three would fill. There was a short, thin woman who carried herself confidently, and she carried no weapons. That said, that didn’t mean a whole lot for most Steel tiers, given that they could equip themselves entirely in a couple seconds if they wanted to, since they’d have to have the Skills necessary to shunt their usual equipment into a pocket dimension. As that thought crossed her mind, Astrid realized that her mother and papa had been putting on a show when they left their home totally equipped.

She shook a thought from her head and continued to attempt to evaluate the three delvers. The shorter woman, the only woman in the party, seemed to be a magical sort, but not a healer, so Astrid hesitantly decided that she was a mage of some sort, maybe even a Cursificer or Venomancer focused on supporting. Internally deciding that the woman would fill a purpose similar to Skandr in her own party, Astrid looked at the other two men, deciding which would be a healer of some sort and which would be their frontliner. Both look like brothers, almost even twins with ruddy red hair and pale skin. They weren’t particularly tall, but though they only stood a couple centimeters taller than Skandr, they carried themselves like Warriors. That was strange, because regardless of their experience, a healer almost always didn’t carry themselves that way. Astrid thought about it for a moment, before thinking back and half deciding that, instead of being a supporting mage of some kind, the woman must be a healer. Maybe instead of a supporter, they had two frontliners? That could work, though it wasn’t a particularly common party composition.

Deciding that she didn’t care about what was common and so on, Astrid stopped thinking quite so much about her indulgence in her imagination and instead listened as Klara addressed the assembled delvers. Most were still in their nightclothes and rubbing sleep from their eyes as they yawned widely. Klara stepped forward, Tristan directly by her side as she spoke loud enough for her voice to echo through the room.

“This is Tristan, the party leader of the Silver Wind. They are here to help ensure that there isn’t any spill over from the Dungeon proper into the Kznietch branch. On the other side of the passage between this branch and the Dungeon itself, the enemies only reach up to level 55 or 60 at the most. With the surge, they won’t get out of the Steel tier in level, I can guarantee it. Those of you who might have experienced a surge before, you don’t need to worry, we have everything under control.”

Faced once more with the words, Astrid swallowed hard. She wanted to believe what the representative was saying, she wanted to believe that they were safe, but she felt her heartbeat thunder in her head as she forced herself to center on the words being spoken instead of the anxiety that continued to grow inside of her. She’d been told this before, but this was going to be different. There were more Dungeoneers that’d been consulted. She clenched her jaw as Klara continued to speak.

“Since this stretch of the Dungeon is tangentially connected to several branches in the country, the Guild is on high alert for anything going sideways. There are two Mithril teams on standby, ready to go wherever they’re needed, and in the off chance that a surge infiltrates the branch of the Dungeon in any way shape or form, they’ll be here before the day’s through. That said, if there is a surge in our area, the monsters wouldn’t even be Iron tier, and we would be totally safe. The only reason why this over abundance of caution is occurring is because there’s been a single incident in the past year of the surge not acting in the way that it always does. In the months since, there has been no additional occurrence like this, but as delvers, you deserve to know what is happening around you. Regardless, everybody here will be safe and fine through the duration of the next couple of months while we ensure that everything is happening as it should. So, as I discussed yesterday, continue to act while delving and in town as if everything were life as usual. Now, to introduce himself, here is Tristan Pugilist.“

“Thank you, Klara.“ Tristan said as he stepped forward. He didn’t seem particularly comfortable with public speaking, which somehow seemed to suit him. “I’ll be quick, I know you guys aren’t here because you wanna be. Just for your benefit, I am a Pugilist, this over here is Christophe Ranger, these two brothers over here are Johannes and Leonardo Warpriest, and finally, the prettiest member of our party is Ursula Cursificer. If you happen to feel like there is some overlap between your Class and one of ours, we’re happy to give you a couple pointers whenever we’re available. Do know that we’re not gonna have a whole lot of availability, so this advice will come on a first come first serve basis. Otherwise, I think that’s all from us.“

Astrid was surprised as, true to his word, Tristan seemed to be done talking after that. As he stepped back, the rest of the Devers around, including his own party, were quiet. After a brief maybe three second break, Klara spoke. “Well, they’re very generously offering some of their services when possible to you rookies, don’t take it for granted. If you have even the slightest interest in your Class progressing to be similar to those of these five, do not hesitate to find an opportunity to speak with them. That’s all. Go ahead and do what you were going to be doing at this hour.”

Astrid couldn’t help but feel her eyebrows raise as Klara walked out of the room. Time and time again, she’d had amazing news dropped on her head today, and the people who are giving that news didn’t seem to think it mattered at all. That the Silver Wind had two Warpriests was amazing, though Astrid wondered how much of their status as a Steel tier party was because of the two brothers. As a Class focused on both healing and front lining, Warpriests were amazing boons to any party, and having two that could switch between themselves for front lining and healing was sure to be a blessing beyond compare. While she was still thinking about that, a couple of the braver delvers approached the Steel tiered party.

Instead of approaching them herself, Astrid turned to her party. Each one was already wearing their equipment, and she asked with a little smile, “Are you ready to go?” They nodded their agreement, and she led them out into the dark morning only barely touched by the light of day.