Pebbles clattered from the top of the wall as those of us who remained leant over the crenelations to watch the last person given permission to survive enter the central spire. The warrior slammed the door I’d never seen closed behind her and trigger a small runic series around the frame. Teal light pulsed and slowly more and more runes appeared from the stonework, so old as to have merged completely.

  The light of thousands of runes backlit the last stand of the fifty-three told to buy time with their lives. The pulses of light flashed ever brighter until the details of the runes were impossible to see. With a final blinding pulse that sent several of the looking warriors reeling back a step, the runes receded back into the wall to reveal that all the areas which once held gates and doors now contained solid stone.

  Rather than step over the cooling bodies of the courtyard’s final defenders, the goblins soldiers retreated under the protection of their [Clerics], back to the wall they’d conquered. When they left the killing field, their casters began the raucous task of smoothing over the fortifications we’d left in the courtyard. In an act of petty revenge I understood all too well; the [Clerics] half melded all the final defenders bodies into the fresh stone, only their limp torsos remaining above ground.

  “We should pack.” Ellen said.

  We had no orders to stand guard on the wall and together we returned to our chambers to do as Ellen said.

  “Here, give ‘em to me.” Maggie said with a hand outstretched towards Mika, who struggled with the pieces of his golems.

  Mika did so and, with a twitch of mana, Maggie sent the golems into her storage space and followed up with each one of us as we finished.

  “What about the [Porter’s] fee?” Ellen teased, her voice raspy and ragged, as she handed over her bag.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m giving y’all the ‘we’ll probably have to run for our lives’ discount.”

  Once the room was bare, besides the scattered bedding we flung across the space in our rush to gear up for the assault, the five of us got settled into the room. No one spoke. Each staring at the others and waiting to see who was brave enough to break the silence. I narrowed my eyes at Nora and expected her curiosity to be what broke the tie.

  Nora held out, however, and it wasn’t until Maggie gave a small huff, a roll of her eyes, and opened her own status that the rest of us did so.

  With a small effort of will, I accepted the notifications that quietly asked my attention for the last eight hours.

  Congratulations! Through your efforts you have leveled up your class [Grove Guard] to level 10!

  Congratulations! Your efforts have been rewarded! You have achieved the max level of your class [Grove Guard]! All future experience gain for this class will be banked towards future evolutions! Sage Mera is proud of your efforts. May your future scholarship be rewarding!

  You have two class skills available for selection. Would you like to begin now? (Y/N)

  Status:

  Name: Bran

  Class: [Grove Guard] LVL 10 {MAX}

  Attributes

  Strength – 27 (+1)

  Dexterity – 14

  Constitution – 34 (+2)

  Endurance – 28 (+1)

  Wisdom – 10

  Intelligence – 11

  Aura – 15 (+1)

  Luck – 5

  Class Skills: (1/5) [2 Available]

  Woodland Pulse (1/10)

  General Skills: (2/3)

  Basic Stone Carving (9/10)

  Focus (3/5)

  Mastered Skills

  Beginner’s Shield Art

  Beginner’s Hammer Art

  The Willow’s Wrath

  Now was not the time to be lost in notifications, so I chose no and exited them out. A soft smile graced my face at the sight of the numbers on my status rising. It was a well-documented effect that in nearly every species with access to the System, the sight of progress codified provided a small boost to motivation and happiness. Many of the [Scholars] and [Researchers] I’d read called it a ‘well-worked manipulation’ by the System.

  When I rejoined reality, Maggie and Nora were still lost in their statuses. Nora’s eyes scanned left to right as she read while Maggie’s were still, just focused into the middle distance. Mika and Ellen were done with whatever notifications they’d received and sat together on the same bed.

  Mika had his eyes closed, but his breathing hadn’t reached the slow calm of sleep. Ellen had a piece of armor in her lap and fiddled with it one handed. Her other rested close enough to Mika’s own that they probably felt each other’s body heat.

  Hours passed with the five of us content to relax. Maggie and Nora played cards. I made small prayers to Ylena and all of her daughters to let them know I was safe, though of her daughters, only Iona responded. Mika and Ellen fell asleep together after half an hour.

  It wasn’t until they woke up and scrambled out of each other’s embrace that we decided we’d spent enough time indoors and it was time to rejoin the aranae on the wall.

  ~~~***~~~

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  When we returned, it was to the sight of goblins swarming over the far gate, tearing it apart piecemeal, while another much smaller collection of goblins in finery pitched a massive pavilion in the center of the courtyard.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Mika asked.

  He and Ellen walked on opposite sides of each other as we climbed the spire, and now on top of the wall they did everything they could not to look at each other. The one time they weren’t careful enough, Mika flushed as red as a tomato and Ellen looked away so fast her neck might have snapped.

  “They’re probably going to try and negotiate a surrender. Can’t say for sure, really.” Maggie said.

  “Why not?” Nora asked. “I thought you’ve been in plenty of sieges before.”

  “More than my fair share. But I’ve never been in a siege where the walls are breeched and the gate destroyed, yet somehow the defenders are in just as strong a position as they were at the start.”

  Nora tilted her head, her mouth opening and closing several times before she shook her head and looked out over the goblins.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing. It was a silly question.” She said, her cheeks ever so slightly rosy.

  “Now I gotta know.” Maggie said and turned to her with a smirk.

  “I was going to ask how sealing the back of the fort like this has never been tried on the surface, then I realized you could just go around.”

  That got a chuckle out of the group, though one that quickly got silenced by the glares of the women around us. The aranae who surrounded us watched on only in grim silence as the goblins made their modifications to their part of the fort.

  “Do not be silenced by fools.” A voice from the crowd said.

  A battered Oddveig pushed her way through the crowd, nearly toppling an aranae who had three of her legs bandaged and supported with those runed finger bones.

  “Great progress was made today; the [True Warrior’s] reveal grows closer. We should be celebrating, not mourning.”

  “[True Warrior]?” Nora asked.

  “Every death has advanced us along the path to reveal the [True Warrior] and [Great Rival]. The loss of the pretenders should be celebrated. It is –“

  “Do not listen to the fanatic.” Helle said; the crowd parted for her as she neared. “The spiress has demanded your presence. Come.”

  We followed Helle to the right most spire, and up to the top floor. After receiving permission from inside, we entered a well-appointed bedroom. Windows invisible from the outside gave the room views of the courtyard, wall walkway, and the cavern behind us. Seated at her dining table, dozens of warriors, scholars, and her advisors surrounded the spiress.

  No one spoke when we entered. Everyone waiting on the whim of the spiress, who stared bitterly down at the goblins setting up in the courtyard. Aranae custom dictated we wait within the entry until the spiress acknowledge our presence to speak or even fully enter the room. The silence that suffocated the space grew increasingly uncomfortable to inhabit and when the spiress spoke, she did so more to the walls than the people around her.

  “Kip- I want so badly to order an assault on those worms.” The spiress snarled in her native language before a glance from Gunilla flipped her to the Trade Tongue.

  Several of the young women around her almost spoke up at once in objection, but the spiress silenced them with a glare. Her four sets of eyes each on a different clique of people.

  “I am aware that doing so would lose us the fort. I am aware that I must wait for my sister’s reinforcements before I can do so. Gunilla?”

  “Earliest reports say she is still ten days away, spiress.”

  The spires took the news with grace that belied the tension in her posture. Two sets of eyes flicked to us and she weighed us for a moment before she spoke again.

  “So she’ll arrive four days after the end of their contract.”

  “Correct.” Senna said.

  The spiress swiveled her other sets of eyes to us and took a deep breath before she spoke again.

  “I’ll pay an extra fifteen gold for you to stay in my employ until the fort is wholly in my possession.”

  With how big the coins down here that would translate to forty-five gold split between the four of us. Something that sounded more than reasonable for the task, so I had no objection. None of us spoke, however, until Nora replied.

  “Spiress, we would be –“

  “The offer is kind, Sylvie.” Maggie interrupted, voice completely level. “But my charges have other commitments on the surface they cannot afford to shirk.”

  “A shame.” The spiress spoke and turned her attention elsewhere. Only a single set of eyes remained on us. “Gunilla has asked that the five of you be present when the Oracle scuttlers call for their parley.”

  ~~~***~~~

  The Tribal Deputy of the First Oracles was a large man, even among the other orcs I’d seen. He wore a fern of some kind across his chest, the still living and vibrant plant stretched from within the man’s waistline all the way over his massive shoulders. He had a blunt face. The skin stretched thin with fat and pale enough to border on translucent. More so than any of the goblins or aranae I’d seen before.

  He sat across from the spiress at a low table at the center of the tent, poles of each corner of the table held up the center peak. Rather than chairs, the pair sat upon dozens of pillows and rugs. Locked in polite if tense chatter, the pair looked half ready to get tea and half ready to commit murder. Seated to the left and right of the spiress was Gunilla and Saga, while the young orc had an older looking hoblite man to his left and a middle-aged orc woman on his right.

  Dressed in our finest battle regalia, my party and I lined ourselves along the back of the tent wall. The spiress’ remaining [Brood Guard] joined the display, each equipped in their finest armor. Opposite us, the tribal deputy had his own soldiers lined up on display. Each of them wore the uniform black armor but with an almost ludicrous amount of golden filigree.

  We’d been here for hours by this point and the subtle jabs and barbs the pair traded had gone completely over my head.

  The young rulers spoke to each other in a language I’d never heard before, though it sounded similar to the Low Chant. The bastard child of something more complex and the universality of the Trade Tongue. It was similar enough that I felt like I could catch every fifth word they spoke.

  So far, the meeting was nothing but polite but subtle threats if I read the room correctly. No one who surrounded the two rulers made any overtly hostile gestures; but occasionally one said something and someone on the other side of the room would tense. Their hands flexed on the haft or hilt of their weapons before they mastered themselves and relaxed.

  The spiress and tribal deputy paid their servants no mind, however, and with seeming amicability they shared a pot of some steaming drink that smelled like rot.

  I’d spent the last twenty minutes half zoned out, deep in thought about what other areas of the Willow’s Wrath needed improvement and how I might alter the style when I noticed the discussion between the rulers grow heated. I got nothing from their words, but the tone in which they spoke now dripped with hostility.

  The spiress damn neared shouted something at the man, while he sat back and smirked. As soon as she finished the final words of whatever she said, his head snapped over to us and he spoke the first words of Trade Tongue that meeting.

  “I take it these are the adventurers you spent so much on?” His voice was higher pitched than his size suggested it should be, and he sounded lightly accented compared to the almost unnatural way the aranae spoke the Trade Tongue.

  “They are.”

  “And may I inquire as to their performance thus far? Perhaps I will purchase the services of another of their ilk.”

  “Ask them yourself.” The spiress declared with seeming disinterest, though I could see the subtle movement in her bottom set of eyes that said she was watching us closely.

  “Armored one. How many of my people have you culled?”

  Seeing as I wore the heaviest armor out of the five of us, I assumed he was talking to me. Briefly, I considered lying or downplaying what I thought my total was. Before that thought could even fully form, disapproval flooded my bond with Ylena. Not only was she watching this interaction, but she would not allow me to downplay my achievements.

  “I have not kept count, but my best guess would be that the total nears a hundred.”

  “And the rest of you?” He continued, giving no visible reaction to my answer.

  “My spells have contributed to the deaths of hundreds.” Nora said. Her chest swelled with pride and she wore a smile so self-assured one could assume she was divinity.

  “My total is not nearly so impressive as my companions, but I would say in the dozens at this point.” Mika said, with a casual ease I hadn’t expected from him. He’d reacted so poorly to seeing his first deaths that it was a relief to hear him so casual.

  “Ninety-two.” Ellen supplied.

  Though the tribal deputy displayed nothing at our totals, his troops behind him all stiffened with anger.

  “A wise investment.” The deputy said, his attention back to the spiress. “The [Appraiser] did not oversell their abilities.”

  “Well worth the cost.”

  She spoke with an indifference I’d only ever seen before in the [Travelling Merchants] who sometimes brought our more expensive requests.

  "They are worth even more than what I have paid to retain their services until we retake what has been stolen.”

  Displeasure so hot I felt it creep into my mind and stir a rage of my own swarmed through the suddenly open bond. It took me a moment to separate the Grace Mother’s unusual display from my own emotions. During which I saw Maggie and Ellen both stiffen and flush with anger of their own. Personally, I’d spent enough time on the periphery of Cult politics to recognize the ploy the spiress made. However, recognition did not stop me from putting my back up.

  After the spiress’ power play, they switched back into that unknown language. I spent the next several hours in silent contemplation as the spiress and tribal deputy argued over maps of tunnels and the surrounding caverns. As time wore on, the spiress continued growing visibly fed up with whatever power games they played. In one fluid motion she rose from the cushions and stormed out of the tent, trailed by her [Brood Guard], us, and followed from behind by her advisors.

  The fort wall remained a solid slate of stone until the spiress gently rested her hands upon a specific stone. Runic series emerged from the wall and flashed briefly before they sunk back into a revealed door frame. We entered in the same order we exited the tent. Gunilla and Saga remained outside until the spiress was well into the spire, entering and resealing the wall once she was out of sight.

  “Spiress. My party and I will return to our chambers until you have further orders for us.”

  Magie had already moved to exit the central spire and head to the one that held our chambers before Nora even finished speaking.