BT - Book 1 - Chapter 66 (Patreon)

Trevor walked up to where Micah was sitting next to the two balls of light and energy, itching at the straps of his new armor.  Micah closed the Folio as his brother approached, shifting his back slightly to try and find a more comfortable position against the slightly sloped wall of the cavern.

“How are you enjoying the spoils of your victory?” He asked his brother, taking note of the slightly annoyed expression that Trevor flashed him.

“Don’t be like that,” Micah grabbed his spear and used its butt to help push himself to his feet.  “The breastplate is well crafted and the enchantments on it are top notch.  I couldn’t do any better myself, and in a dungeon of this level that’s a pretty good find.”

“The fittings are tight,” Trevor made a face at him.  “It’s digging into my hips and shoulders just walking around.  If I tried to fight in this thing, It’s hard to imagine how bad it would end up chafing.  Honestly?  Against low level opponents it would probably hurt me more than a goblin or something.”

“Then get it fixed,” Micah responded, disinterest dripping from his voice.  “The craftsmanship of the metal and enchantments are what matter.  The rest is just some leather and buckles.  Hells, even Dad could probably adjust the fittings.  If it’s a big deal right now, just don’t wear it until you can have someone look at it.”

“I know,” Trevor grabbed the metal of the breastplate, shifting it slightly.  “I feel like a whiner setting aside a powerful dungeon reward like this just because it stings a little, but at the same time, it really smarts.”

“I’m not going to call you a whiner,” Micah began, ignoring Trevor’s rolled eyes, “but I would like to point out that you are literally complaining about a gift from a god.”

“I get that,” Trevor reached up to itch under one of the armor’s straps.  “I appreciate the enchantments.  Poison immunity, acid immunity, and two bonus points in body while I’m wearing it aren’t anything to sneeze at, but it just doesn’t seem as cool as the bracers you made for me.  Now that I’ve gained a couple levels and actually have some experience with my martial art, being able to accelerate the speed of my arms and feet is huge.”

“That’s why I made them,” Micah chuckled.  After months of semi isolation and having to twist Trevor’s arm on every little issue, it was nice to have his brother acknowledge him from time to time.

“I still think you’re underestimating the armor,” Micah poked the hard metal of the breastplate with his index finger.  “Poison and acid resistance would be nice, but absolute immunity is incredibly useful.  Poison magic is an entire sub field of wood affinity attack magic.  More importantly, it’s one that I have some higher tier spells in.  It’s big weakness is that most poison based attacks tend to be a bit indiscriminate.  If I can target you with an area of effect poison attack without your safety being a concern.”

MIcah smiled mischievously before he continued.  “Unless the people you’re fighting have the same sort of resistance, my spells will disable them while you finish them off.  Honestly?  The combination is so good that I’m suspicious about it being an accident.”

“I don’t know,” Trevor shifted, dipping his left shoulder while he reached across his body with his right arm to try in vain to re-adjust the armor once more.  “I get that the armor is powerful, but I’m not sure I like having a magical item whose major purpose is that it allows my younger brother to cast powerful combat spells using me as the target.  It just… makes me feel like bait.”

“Isn’t that a spearfighter’s job?” Micah asked.  “Unless you’re casting spells, your job is to work on the frontline, keeping focus away from the team’s archers and spellcasters.  Half the point of having an agility build and a standoff weapon like a spear is to keep opponents at bay while simultaneously threatening them.  The spear’s length prevents them from closing for a decisive attack, but if they shift their focus from you, it’s a fairly simple matter for you to make them pay with a quick thrust.”

“That’s true,” Trevor frowned, “but it still seems different.  I mean, I’m all for protecting a spellcaster while they unleash a spell that could change the course of the battle, but it still doesn’t feel the same as standing still while you cast instant death spells on me.”

“Spoilsport,” Micah quipped with a ready laugh.  Trevor only stuck out his tongue in response.  His brother shifted slightly, opening his mouth to respond when Micah frowned.”

“What’s that?”  He extended a hand toward his brother, trying to shush him.  “All of the ghouls were supposed to have disintegrated, but I thought I heard something.”

Trevor didn’t respond.  Instead he switched his grip on his spear, squinting into the darkness.  Micah noted with approval that his brother’s feet almost instinctively moved into a defensive stance.

Micah strained his senses against the boss chamber’s gloom.  Although the light from the two animals’ evolution cocoons illuminated the immediate area around him and Trevor, at the moment Micah couldn’t help but feel that it made them targets.  Anyone outside the circle of light could see them, but as far as his straining eyes were concerned, the world ended after twenty or so paces.

He gripped his spear, silently casting wind shield.  Outside their circle of light, something crunched as someone stepped on the bones of a vanquished monster.  Micah settled into his own defensive stance.

“I think they spotted you Ari,” a cheerful but indistinct male voice drifted into the lit clearing.

“They heard you Sunny,” a pompous voice, much deeper and clearly masculine, disagreed.  “Despite your complaints, I’ve been as light on my feet as a sparrow.  Anything they’ve noticed has been you stumbling over gravestones.”

Micah glanced at Trevor, raising an eyebrow.  His brother simply shrugged before taking a step toward the edge of the area lit by the animals’ evolution.

“It’s awfully late for a dungeon delve friends,” Trevor waved cheerfully at the darkness.  “Is there any reason why you’re this deep into the Crypt of Rot so late at night?  I know we were trying to pick a time when no one else would be around in an effort to avoid inconveniencing others.  Perhaps you chose to come here as part of some sort of moonlit stroll?  Dare I ask if this is a romantic excursion?”

Micah groaned, planting his face in the palm of his hand.  He hadn’t known what to expect when Trevor decided to take the lead, but somehow he wasn’t surprised in the least.

“Gross,” the cheerful voice replied with a chuckle.

“I could do better,” the deeper voice interjected disdainfully.  “Much better.”

“Now now,” the higher voice lilted, a quiet laugh hidden just under the surface.  “I am your instructor after all.  I know you think you’re too good for all of this skullduggery and practical learning, but some decorum and respect seems appropriate.”

“You’re someone with a high level that my parents paid to run me through dungeons at night,” the other man huffed. “My parents might call you a tutor, but I know everything I need to know.  You’re here to help me kill zombies, not talk back.”

“God you’re such a little shit,” the first man’s voice flipped from light and airy to pointed and bitter without a moment’s hesitation.  “Well only the maids you woo with your parents' money have actually said anything about you being ‘little.’  Not exactly an adjective anyone else would use for you.”

A flash of light lit up the darkness outside Trevor and Micah’s circle.   Three balls of flame sprang into being around a slim, auburn haired man of average height.  Micah winced as he took in the man’s otherwise handsome features, marred by a vicious series of burns.  The man literally stared sparks at a much larger figure, wreathed in shadows five to ten paces to his side.

“Shut up Sunny,” the shadowy figure shifted slightly.  “I hate you, you hate me.  There’s nothing new to unearth here.  Now what in the name of the Sixteen are we going to do with the interlopers.  They stole our boss fight.”

“Sorry to break it to you,” Trevor flashed a blinding smile, “but we were here first.  Unfortunately, you’re the interlopers.”

“Godsdamnit Trevor,” Micah mumbled to himself as the attention of the two bickering strangers snapped back to them.

“It’s not all a loss,” the man with floating balls of flame circling him began walking toward the light created by the animals.  “The two of them must be some sort of beast tamers.  They have a pair of animal companions evolving.  It won’t be as much experience as a boss fight, but it’s enough to prevent this journey from being a complete waste.”

“We aren’t alone,” Micah cut Trevor off before he could complicate the situation further with another stupid quip.  “I have a summoned creature nearby.  Honestly, I don’t know what either of your levels are but if you force a fight, it will be short and it will be gruesome.”

“From the way you’re talking,” Micah shrugged, “you have money and influence.  I’d prefer that we all pretend that we haven’t seen each other and go our separate ways.  If you attack, you will die and I don’t want to have to deal with the questions associated with that.”

“Is he threatening me Ari?” The man’s eyes flashed with fire once more.  “He doesn’t even look like he’s finished puberty and now he’s trying to pull the ‘there’s a huge monster just behind you’ gag.”

“Seems like it,” the large man agreed, wandering thoughtfully into the lit area.  He stood a head above his companion, clad in a luxurious cape over finely crafted chainmail stretched tightly over his noticeable gut.  “So what’s it going to be?  Are we going to kill these peasants or are we just heading back to the mansion?”

“Last chance to walk away,” Micah said without much hope.  The two men clearly wanted to fight.  They were just looking for some excuse to justify their actions.

The thin man clenched his hand.  Around him the three spheres of flame turned into small foxes that danced through the air, burning tails crackling dangerously.

“Technically,” he smiled, his voice cheerful and light once more, all of the vitriol leeched from it, “neither group should be here.  Both sides have snuck into a restricted dungeon late at night in an attempt to avoid regulations.  They know that we’re poaching.  Even if they were a threat to us physically, I’m not going to let them walk away with potential blackmail over Baron Hurden’s son.”

The bigger man pulled a thick, double headed battleaxe from his back.  The air veritably sung as he unlimbered the weapon, even at a distance, Micah frowned at the enchantments crackling visibly around it.

“At least we can finally stop talking and kill something,” he grunted, air aspect mana from some martial art coursing up the hilt of the axe.  Micah winced as a sharp and high pitched ringing sound assaulted his ears.  The wince became a frown as his hit points began to slowly creep downward.

“Great,” the mage laughed cheerfully, clapping his hands together and inspiring a series of playful jumps and running from his summoned fire spirits.  “We’re in luck that the Crypt of Rot is an undead dungeon.  No one will ever notice a couple more ghouls added to the final graveyard.”