Chapter 155: Deal with the Devil

Will thought, inspecting his old amulet with a critical eye. He hadn’t been fighting many things that were weak enough to be thrown off by simple slippery ice in a few Floors. Not to mention that ice was weaker than stone when it came to his stone spike cantrips. He was outgrowing the usefulness of a sheet of ice, and the stats on the amulet were…not great. Will hadn’t even been bothering to wear it recently. Even if he couldn’t load ‘fear’, he could certainly stand to load a more hostile terrain into the amulet. If that was the case, Will had an idea for a ‘hostile’ terrain he could load into the amulet. Will suppressed a hiss of pain as his left hand began throbbing again, his bones aching, muscles twitching randomly against his will. Will thought as Ghoul approached. “Well, it’s been lovely having you staying with us,” Ghoul said, while Will paid him half an ear, clenching and unclenching his hand, which was aching, ominous black veins beginning to spread through it. Will thought, his skin giving off a cold sweat as he pulled a glove over it. He knew he’d have to cut it off, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. Will thought. It was absolutely, one hundred percent his idea of a good time. Maybe they could use Loth’s technique for frontloading the acclimation period in order to skip through the place before his hand got infected. Will would go to great lengths to not have to cut his hand off again, but the universe thought it had a sense of humor by picking at his greatest mental wounds over and over again. While he was focusing on his hand, Ghoul kept talking, his voice seemingly fading back in as Will turned his attention to the undead mage. “…Now that your acclimation period is up, you’re going to have to ‘defeat’ me to move up to the next floor. You wanna do this the easy way, or do you want to put those new skills to the test and do it the way?” Ghoul asked with a rotten grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Easy way.” Will answered without hesitation. “Badur, get this man his fee.” Badur delivered a small sampling of the treasures they’d acquired on their way up, which amounted to a jug of Silverdeath, a couple minor Relics, and a Seed of Undeath. Ghoul deflated a bit, pouting as his minions took the treasure out of his arms. “Fine, I . Everybody get a shot in.” Ghoul said, holding his arms out. Everyone gathered up and gave the undead mage a shallow stab with the provided sword, moving quickly so that everyone could get a turn in. Once everyone had taken a turn, Ghoul sighed and spoke in monotone. “Oh no. I am defeated.” An instant later, the undead collapsed into a pile of ash. Will’s eyes widened as he stared at the pile of ash and Ghoul’s clothing. “Every time, I gotta clean myself up, and don’t even get to have a fun fight, either,” Ghoul’s voice came from the left, where an undead had broken away from the throng of undead with a broom and dustbin. “I’m wondering if the priceless treasure’s even worth it. I’ve already got more than I can ever use. Stupid contract.” The grumbling undead picked up Ghoul’s clothes and shook the ash out of them before setting them aside and sweeping the pile of ash into the bin. “…Ghoul?” Will asked. “Yeah?” The undead asked, glancing up at Will mid-sweep. It was a different face, different size and shape body, but the voice and mannerisms were the same. “Are you puppeting these things from somewhere else?” Will asked. “That’s a common theory,” Ghoul said, getting back to work. Of course, a Lord would be cagey when it related to their Build. “What contract?” Will asked, changing the subject. Ghoul groaned, rubbing his back as he stood up straight with the dust bin in tow. “I made an agreement with the powers that be to always give travelers the option of paying their way through. Keeps things civil with other Lords and prevents…incidents.” Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Will could see how that would be beneficial. Nobody got truly desperate if they knew they had a guaranteed way out. Desperate people had a tendency to do desperate things and ruin things for everyone else. “Maybe next time I’ll fight you. I’m coming back through here…at least twice more.” Will said, giving Ghoul a consolation pat on the shoulder. “And I’ll have a month’s worth of practice each time.” The undead mage gave him a rotten grin. “I’m looking forward to it. You’ve got the makings of a mage.” “…I’m a Rogue/scout.” Will said. “Forget about your Class. ‘Mage’ is just a word I assign to people who have mastered their Abilities enough to create several unique cantrips. To me it means flexibility above and beyond the Archetypes people’s Classes try to impose on them. It doesn’t have any meaning in The System.” Ghoul looked a bit grumpy as he said that. “Are you a mage?” Will asked. “Boy, I would qualify myself as a ‘wizard’.” Ghoul said. “I can do a lot more than a few parlor tricks. I reverse engineered your cantrips and improved on them in a matter of seconds. Maybe one day you’ll be a wizard too.” They began going through the process of organizing before they moved up to the next floor, making sure everyone had everything, that nobody had failed to get the option to create a Door. Once they had everyone ready and organized by Party, they lined them up and prepared to enter the 9th Floor. That was when Ghoul took the opportunity to make an announcement. “Listen up everyone!” Ghoul said, his new, raspy voice rising above the chatter. “The Ninth floor is where the miasma is thick enough that the environment itself begins to get a bit screwy. The Floor itself is…peculiar about language. There’s an odd amount of overlap between word and action there, which is why that freak, Bakton makes it his home. A good rule of thumb is if you don’t have anything important to say, keep your mouth shut. ‘Don’t talk to strangers’ is more important there, and for the sake of whatever gods you worship, don’t start any sentence with ‘I wish’.” Will glanced at Charnesa, who nodded in agreement. “Is that something I should’ve known about?” Will asked the ancient Saint. She must’ve been through the 9th Floor before. “It’s not that critical.” She said. “Just exercise basic caution. Don’t talk to strangers. Or animals, or plants. And definitely don’t start any sentence with ‘I wish’.” Will’s brows rose, but he shrugged. “…And don’t eat any food you didn’t pay for or bring yourself. Don’t agree to anything without getting it in writing. Be highly aware of homonyms and turns of phrase that have two meanings. The creatures in the Ninth Floor love to make unfair ‘deals’ with unwary Climbers, taking what they most value, or trapping them in eternal servitude.” After a moment of thinking she shrugged. “You know what? It’s probably best to follow Ghoul’s advice and simply avoid talking.” Charnesa said, nodding to herself. “Good to know. Did everyone get that!?” Will asked, glancing around the caravan. Everyone in eyesight nodded. Will nodded back, and they opened their Doors as one, stepping through to the 9th Floor. The first thing Will noticed was the humidity. Humidity was high, like the 7th Floor, but the air was brisk. There was birdsong and the flutter of wings. The trees stood straighter and more spaced out than the jungles of the 7th Floor. The crisp air felt a bit like the desert at night after a rain, but the trees were out of place. Far more sunlight made its way down through the canopy, and Will could actually see a few hundred feet in every direction due to the relatively sparse vegetation. Between the trees were low shrubs, moss, and mushrooms…and that was about it. Will thought. As usual, best practices were to head to the Stronghold to store the civilians safely and get some information about which Key Site would be the safest clear. Will oriented on South and wordlessly motioned for the caravan to set off that direction. The caravan leaders silently set off, the vanguard Party picking their way through the forest, making sure the space between trees was wide enough to pull the wagons through. It was easier than cutting through the jungle, that was for sure. As they walked, Will’s enhanced senses kept giving him strange feedback. The way a branch shifted, or the distant sound of a crunching leaf, made him think something, or perhaps somethings were pacing alongside the caravan, just outside the range of their perception. He couldn’t see anything, and whatever it was didn’t make any noise, but Will could feel changes in air pressure, and feel vibrations in the Miasma around him that almost felt like sound. Like they were talking through the magical medium that no one else could hear. Will had the highest Acuity in the Party by far, and as far as he could tell, the others weren’t feeling the creatures gliding through the forest alongside them. Will needed to cut off his hand, and he’d been planning on having Loth do it later that night. Will thought, changing his stride to bring him closer to Charnesa. “…What do you know about the four Key Sites?” Will asked Charnesa, measuring his words carefully. “Most of them are…rather entrenched. The Fae have their own equivalent of Lords and Strongholds, and they are of course, centered around Key Sites. There is one Key Site that Climbers typically go through. It isn’t given enough time to establish a strong faction around it. The other Fae Lords actually help Climbers clear it out. Less competition that way.” “Do you know anything about what these Lords can do?” Charnesa shook her head. “Man, I’d give my left hand for more information about these Lords.” Will said with feigned carelessness, to which Charnesa’s eyes widened, staring back at him in shock. “DEAL!” A tiny figure shouted, bursting out of the shrubs. “The Lord Mordaine dwells to the northeast! You now have more information, puny mortal! Deliver thine left hand or I will hold thee in contempt of Fae law and make you my slave!” Will looked at the little humanoid, wearing fine hunting gear scaled down to a six-inch tall creature. It held its hands out, clenching and unclenching them with a ‘gimmie’ motion. Will could feel the miasma around them twitching, moving to enforce the ‘agreement’ between them. If he tried to renege, Will truly would become this thing’s slave. “Of course. I wouldn’t say anything I didn’t mean.” Will said, peeling the glove off his left hand, which brought some skin with it. The tiny person paled as the black-veined hand was revealed to the world, along with the putrid smell of early rot. The hand, roused by the sudden change in environment, began twitching madly. “Loth.” Will said, holding out his writhing hand and rolling back his sleeve. Loth gave an amused chuckle and a wire whipped out of her robe, severing Will’s hand behind the blackened veins. Will hissed in pain, managing to catch the writhing hand in midair, swallowing a scream and blinking tears out of his eyes. “All yours.” Will said, tossing his hand to the tiny fae. “EEK!” the fae dodged the hand, diving to the side. The motion and noise drew the undead hand’s attention. William Oh’s disembodied undead hand immediately began to chase the fae with unusual dexterity for an undead. Perhaps it got a bit of that from Will. The tiny person dove screaming into the bushes, followed close behind by the hand. There was a scrambling thrashing noise that went all around the caravan as dozens of these tiny fae fled the scene, the hand in hot pursuit of their ringleader. After a brief chase that led it all through the bushes and surrounding area, the fae locked in on a thick, half-full whisky bottle in the back of one of the wagons, squeezing itself through the neck of the bottle an instant before the hand reached it. “Hah HAH!” the fae shouted as Will’s disembodied hand scratched futilely against the thick glass, unable to follow. “Foolish cursed hand! You’re stuck out there, and I’m safe in here!” The tiny person squeaked, giving a tiny raspberry as it waded in the waist-deep whisky “I don’t even need to eat, so I can stay in here as long as I wa- Will popped the cork back in place. “…Shit.” “Tell me more about this Mordaine.” Will said, lifting the bottle to eye-level.