Chapter 124 - The Climb (Patreon)

Abby trudged up the shallow steps, which had been crudely cut into the mountain itself. The gnolls were a lot of things – vicious, territorial, and powerful, among other, less savory characteristics – but they were not expert craftsman. Their handiwork left much to be desired, a fact which Abby discovered anew every few minutes when one of the poorly chiseled stones came loose under her feet. More than once, she’d almost lost her footing, which would’ve sent her tumbling down the long, winding steps. However, her improved dexterity wasn’t just for show, and she’d so far barely managed to retain her footing.

As she trekked up the mountain, Abby couldn’t help but be reminded of all the old kung fu movies she’d watched with her father, once upon a time. In them, there was always an old master at the top of a mountain. The way was always difficult, but so long as the hero showed persistence in the face of adversity, he would always learn what he needed to learn. Hopefully, her own story would play out in such a way, though she knew it would take more than a training montage with a wise, old master to get her to her chosen destination. She needed real power, and if all the rumors were true, that was what awaited her at the mountain’s peak. She only had to keep going, and, at the top, slay a mythical beast that was so far out of her weight class that they might as well have been from different worlds.

“Easy,” she muttered, putting one foot in front of the other.

But was it any different from what Zeke had been through in those caves? He had spent two entire years down there, struggling against all odds to survive and thrive when everything in that cave system seemed hell bent on killing him. On top of that, he’d gone out of his way to avenge the fallen, to rid the world of a perceived threat. Did it matter that the entire dungeon had probably been a construct? No, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him, either.

Once, there’d been an expedition to rediscover one of the chosen’s dungeons; the warrior in question wanted his friends to reap the same benefits he had, and so, he’d led a search for the hidden valley where he’d been through his travails. However, despite coming to the proper location – the chosen had been sure of it – the kobold civilization against which he’d waged a war was nowhere to be found. It had disappeared entirely, right down to the crude hovels they called homes. So, with that – and plenty of other secondhand accounts – as evidence, it was widely accepted that those dungeons were portals to another world, and when they were defeated, they disappeared from the Radiant Isles. Zeke’s own experiences, recounted as they were, made it clear that his cave system had disappeared as well.

In any case, real or not, it had helped turn him into the man he’d become. And for that, Abby was grateful. She liked that he felt an obligation to use his power to help other people, even if she wasn’t always afflicted with such. He made her be better than she otherwise would be, and she wanted to do the same for him. To do that, she had to keep up. Thus, her near-suicidal quest to kill a thunderbird by herself.

She was so lost in thought that she very nearly got herself killed. It was only after a few seconds of staring at the faintly flickering firelight that she recognized that she’d very nearly stumbled up on a camp of gnolls. Only halfway up the mountain, she’d been climbing for hours. However, sunrise was still hours away yet, so it was still dark enough that she remained concealed.

Bending low, she crept up the side of the stairs until she came within sight of a slumping centurion, who, though clearly asleep, was obviously intended as a sentry. Behind the canine monster was a camp harboring six sleeping gnolls, one of which was clutching a large egg that glittered in the firelight. Abby settled down just off the path to observe the camp, which was positioned on a large, flat area that straddled the stairs’ path.

As the minutes wore on, Abby realized that she needn’t have worried. The monsters were in the heart of their own territory, where nothing would challenge them. So, whatever caution they might’ve otherwise cultivated had been thrown to the wind. Even the lone centurion hadn’t taken it seriously, as evidenced by his slumber. It would be easy to sneak around, she knew.

But that egg – something about it drew her eye, and it wasn’t just its glittering, blue surface, which the longer she looked, the more she began to associate with an expertly cut sapphire. Abby needed to get a closer look.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. She knew that. But she could no more have stopped herself than aborted her need to breathe. So, staying low and hugging the shadows, Abby crept forward until she could use her inspection skill, [Keen Eye]. What she saw made her breath catch.

[Thunderbird Egg] (F) – The ovum of a mighty thunderbird, contained within a sapphire shell. Fertilized.

“What the hell?” Abby mouthed, though no sound escaped from between her lips. Then, she very nearly gave her position away when a new notification crossed her eyes.

Quest [Thunder, Thunder, Thunder!] Discovered! At the top of the mountain, a pair of majestic thunderbirds are being held captive. Return their egg, free them, and avoid their thunderous wrath. Reward: Skill.

Abby blinked in confusion. Not only had she discovered the quest she’d come to complete, but it was far from the task she’d expected. Usually, the Framework didn’t concern itself with anything but slaughter, usually in epic fashion. But to save a pair of thunderbirds? To say she was surprised at the notification would’ve been an understatement.

But now she was faced with a new problem – how to get the egg from the gnolls. The one who had it in its possession was clinging to it like its life depended on it, and Abby didn’t think she’d pry it from the monster’s claws without a fight. So, was she supposed to take a page out of Zeke’s book and slaughter the creatures in their sleep? Certainly, the idea had merit. What’s more, it was probably necessary, as well. After all, Abby wasn’t so deluded as to think that she’d stand much of a chance in a fair fight against a half-dozen gnolls. And even if she could come out of it victorious, there was little chance she could do so without alerting the village below. And if that happened, her chances of survival went from slim to none.

Sighing, she sank back into the shadows to think.

The problem was that she didn’t have much in the way of time. Sunrise would soon be on the horizon, and with that, any chance of taking the gnolls unaware would be lost. And she hadn’t come so far to come away empty handed. Even in the most dire of circumstances, Abby wasn’t one to quit. So, she bent her mind to figuring out how to make it work. However, after a few more minutes, she came to the conclusion that she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. There really wasn’t a smart way to do it – not with a time limit hovering over her – which annoyed her to no end.

“Am I really going to pull a Zeke?” she muttered under her breath. As much as she liked to tease her partner about his propensity to charge in and let his mace sort everything out, there was something to be said for how straightforward it was. Zeke didn’t really plan. He worked with general outlines that usually consisted of various ways of charging a problem head-on. Even when he’d slaughtered the trolls in their sleep, there hadn’t been much subtlety to it. He saw a problem, and he removed it.

And now, Abby was going to do the same thing. The only difference was that she didn’t have an overpowered life-stealing skill and ridiculous stats backing her up, so her margin of error was quite a bit slimmer than his. If something went wrong, if she made a sound at the wrong time, or if she underestimated how difficult to kill the gnolls were, there was every chance that her story would end, right then and there.

With a deep breath, she drew her hatchet. Choking up on the haft, she held it just under the blade and crept forward. Her first target was the gnoll who’d failed in his duties as a sentry. At twenty-two, the monster was the highest level of the bunch, and what’s more, it was a centurion; the rest were gnoll workers ranging from level sixteen to nineteen. In a one-on-one fight, Abby would be hard pressed to match any of them, let alone if they attacked in unison, but she’d fare a lot better if the centurion was lying in a pool of its own blood. Hence, her choice to make it her first victim.

In the old world, and against unevolved monsters, a simple throat slash might’ve been enough to take anything out. However, the slumbering gnoll centurion had long since passed the threshold for evolution, and it was made of tougher stuff than its unevolved brethren. So, when Abby crept up behind it, she unceremoniously swung her hatchet with every ounce of strength she possessed, and she was rewarded with a meaty thunk as the blade buried itself at the base of the monster’s skull. Immediately, it went limp, though it didn’t die right away. Instead, it rasped a few rattling breaths before succumbing to death.

It was an anticlimactic kill, and even when Abby knew the thing was dead, her heart continued to beat out of her chest. One down, five more to go.

Moving more silently than she’d ever moved, Abby made her way through the camp, periodically burying her hatchet in one exposed neck after another. In fact, she was a little surprised when she assassinated the last sleeping gnoll, and nothing had gone wrong. She’d accomplished her goal, and without even a hint of difficulty, save for the fact that she spent the entire time on the verge of a panicked heart attack.

However, the first issue presented itself when she extricated the thunderbird egg from the dead gnoll’s clutches. It was surprisingly heavy and a little bigger than a basketball, so the thing was incredibly awkward to carry. To make matters even more annoying, when she tried to place it in her satchel, she discovered that no matter how much she shoved, it simply wouldn’t fit. So, Abby had no choice but to carry it up the mountain.

With a sigh, she glanced at the horizon, noting the lightening sky. Soon, more gnolls would climb the mountain, and they would inevitably discover her handiwork. With the deed done, she wondered if she should waste the time necessary to conceal her efforts. It would probably be for naught, considering the gnolls’ ability to track. The moment one of their scouts discovered the abandon campsite, it would only be a matter of minutes – if that – before they figured out what had happened to their fellows. So, as much as she hated it, Abby left the gnolls where they’d fallen and continued her trek up the mountain’s steps.

Even as the sky continued to lighten, she climbed – one step after another until, finally, just as the sun completely rose above the horizon, she reached the top, only to discover that she was completely unprepared for what she’d found.

An elaborate temple stood before her. For a moment, Abby struggled to place the architecture, but then, as if it had slapped her in the face, she realized where she’d seen it before. In Tua’ta’Alar, she’d seen its like. The graceful arches. The steepled roof. The fanciful columns. It all matched. However, instead of the ruins she’d seen in that long-abandoned elven city, this temple was in pristine condition.

And it was crawling with gnolls.

Immediately, Abby dropped to her knees and backed down the steps. She hadn’t been seen, but she couldn’t afford to take any chances. So, it took her a few more moments before she worked up the nerve to crawl back up the stairs and peek over the crest.

There were hundreds of gnolls around the temple, and she knew there were probably even more inside. One and all, they wore roughly woven robes, cinched at the waist with strips of rawhide. Finally, every one of them carried a long, slender staff, which they tapped in front of them as they walked.

They were blind!

You are correct, child, came an intrusive thought. Abby cast her eyes around, trying to ascertain the voice’s origin before she realized that it hadn’t been verbal in nature. I apologize for speaking to you in such a way, but we are desperate.

Um…who are you? Abby thought, trying her best not to think about how invasive it was to have someone else speaking in her mind.

You stink of a Framework quest, came another, distinctive thought that Abby somehow knew emanated from a different mind. You carry the egg. Bring it to us, and set us free, and we will let you live.

You’re the thunderbirds, Abby thought.

Indeed, child, said the other “voice.” And you have come to help us. So, help us. The monsters are blind. Kill them, free us, and we shall help you escape. Do this, and you will satisfy the terms of your quest. Do it not, and you will remain a weakling as your companions leave you behind.

It was Abby’s insecurity given voice, and as such, there was little she could do but to agree. Fine, she thought. But I need to know what you’re doing here, how you were captured, and why they took you.

Very well, said the voice in Abby’s mind. It all began with a poorly considered bargain.