Stepping Up, Draft 1, CH 50 (Patreon)

Tibs forced himself to look up. The archer was on the roof of the house facing the transport platform.

“What happened?” Carina crouched next to him, eyes wide at the arrow in his shoulder. He grabbed her arm and pulled her over him. “What?” the arrow hit the stone pillar behind where she’d been.

“Archer,” he said, and she looked up. Air essence accumulated around her hand, and with a flinging gesture, she sent it at the archer who was notching another arrow. As it flew away, Tibs felt it move into a structured form, but it was out of his range before it was done. The archer flew out of sight a few seconds later.

They hadn’t worn the green and black Harry used for his guards, and which was the colors Sebastian used for his group in his home city. Jackal had already given the guard leader a piece of his mind about using the same colors. Who the archer worked for didn’t matter, what did was that he didn’t have an element. Even at Upsilon, any element would have made the arrow deadlier.

“We need better cover,” Tibs said, and pointed to one of the pillars at the front. None of the attendants were visible. They’d run off as soon as Tibs had been shot. He screamed as she pulled him to it. At least now they were hidden from the street side. When he could see again, he scanned the back. The platform was in the center of the city, but unlike the others he’d been to, the area around wasn’t a market. The houses on that side were all one floor. A few taverns and shops. The houses further back were two stories, but the ground sloped down as it headed for the mountain.

“We can’t stay here,” Carina said, studying the wound. Gingerly, she pried it open and Tibs gritted his teeth. “Sorry. It looks like a normal arrowhead. It’s going to hurt when I pull it out, but it’s not going to do too much damage.”

“Do it.” He bit back the scream and once he could think, he wrapped his essence around the injury. The wound closed, and the bleeding stopped, but as with other injuries, it didn’t heal. “I’m a lousy healer.”

“You have purity now.”

“Do you know how I use it to heal? With hardly any essence?” he added. “I don’t have my bracers.”

“We should have brought them.”

He should his head. “Too risky. There’s no telling if someone like Peolo could have felt something about them. I haven’t let any powerful adventurer touch them for that reason. Sto’s still young. What if he can’t hide it from anyone too powerful?”

“So, our room?”

Tibs desperately wanted to get his bracers. Without it, he didn’t even have enough water to make a sword. “The inn first. If they’re shooting anyone who arrives, Sebastian wants this contained.”

“You think it’s him?”

Tibs stood. “He’s the only one who’s been causing trouble. I should have thought that he’d do that with most of us away.”

“The conscripts were still here.”

He looked around the pillar, carefully moving his shoulder. So long as he didn’t do any sudden moves, it wasn’t painful. “Not a lot of them were happy to act as protectors.” The street was clear, of anyone. Not even one person walking around. Back on his Street, he’d think word of a guard raid had been sent.

Or that one was in progress.

“This had been going on a while,” He said. “We’re running for that alley. I can’t see anyone, but stay alert.”

“Treat this as a run.”

He smiled. “Yeah. I guess we are. Except we aren’t stopping for loot.”

“Jackal is going to be so disappointed if we don’t bring him anything.”

“He can live with it.” Tibs ran, staying low. When he reached the alley, he paused, panting. The running wasn’t kind to his shoulder.

Carina stopped by the entrance and looked the way they came. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Hopefully, the archer was the only one. How hard did you hit him?”

“Enough to send him off the roof. He might have landed on the other one.”

The roofs here were slanted. “Let’s go see if he’s around. That’s some loot I don’t mind grabbing. Appease Jackal when he sees I’ve been hurt.”

“We’re going to the inn. Kroseph is who will be worried when he sees you.”

He smiled at her. “Then maybe the archer died and left meat behind?” He stopped at the back of the building listened. “Do you hear that?” in the distance, someone was fighting.

“Yes, in that direction. Are we going to help?”

Tibs shook his head. “The inn is in that direction.” Away from the fighting. “I’m not in armor. I have no weapons and barely any essence I can use offensively. I’d get in the way.”

She nodded and Tibs headed to the back of the house where the archer had been. They found him on the ground, his bow a few paces away, the arrows spilled out of his quiver, his neck bent unnaturally.

“He fell badly,” Tibs said as he searched the man. A few coppers, a knife, a medallion with a rearing horse on it. He showed it to Carina.

“Some sort of protective charm,” she said. “I remember coming across them in a few books, but never read up.”

“There’s no essence in it.” He pocketed it. It would be worth a copper or two to the right merchant. He found paper and unfolded it. He sighed and showed it to Carina.

“That’s you,” she said in surprise. The charcoal drawing was that good.

“Then it’s definitely Sebastian.”

“It could be Don.”

Tibs laughed. “He doesn’t have those kinds of friends.” He grabbed the bow and quivers. He didn’t bother with the arrows that had fallen out. “Now we have loot.” He walked toward the inn.

“This isn’t even first-floor stuff,” Carina commented.

“So the town is floor zero?”

“Don’t joke about that. Remember what Peolo said about a dungeon extending to a town?”

Tibs nodded. “Every house a room.” He shuddered at the idea Sto would turn his town into part of himself. He’d have to talk with him about that.

He stopped at the street and confirmed there was no one before hurrying to the other side.

“Hey, you!” someone yelled. A look over his shoulder without slowing showed him a thug in leathers with a dirty shirt over it. He had blood on his hands and a chest under an arm. “Stop!”

Tibs didn’t.

“Get him!”

He cursed, not words he wanted to hear, but it told him they hadn’t seen Carina.

He made it to the other side of the alley and came to a skidding stop as four rough-looking thugs turn from the beating they were administering to three other thugs. Behind him, his pursuers were catching up.

“Down, Tibs!” one of the thugs before him yelled, pulling out a knife.

He was on the ground, his shoulder protesting. A woman behind him screamed in pain and the Runners stopped.

“Finish those three,” the man who’d warned Tibs said. Then he and the woman at his side walked around him and into the alley. They had essence, so Runners, and more than a match for his pursuers.

Once on his feet, Tibs watched as the man who’d stayed behind slit the throat of the last of the thugs there. He looked at Tibs grimly and Tibs nodded. He didn’t feel like being kind to the people who were attacking his town.

The screams behind him stopped with a gust of wind pushing by him. He turned to see the two thugs step aside to let Carina through.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She had a cut on her forehead that bleed heavily.

“One of them got in a lucky punch. I’ll be fine.”

Tibs watched the man and the woman. They were older, so part of the conscripts. “I don’t know you.”

“I’m Garrett,” the man answered. “That’s Kaylie, and over there is Arny.”

“Arnstein,” the man corrected. “You call me Arny one more time, and I will pull your tongue out.”

“Later,” Tibs said, cutting off Garrett’s reply. By the man’s smirk, it wouldn’t be helpful. “How long has the fighting been going on?”

“I’d say it started a day after the last of you bunch left us to protect this place. There was an influx of people, then archers were set up around the platform and started taking out anyone arriving. We’ve removed most of them, but there’s always at least one new one each time.”

“We killed the one that was there, after he tried to kill us,” Carina said.

“There’s going to be another one soon enough,” Arnstein said. “Them and the looters are the one thing we can trust to be around the town these days.”

“They’re stealing from the townsfolk?” Tibs asked. Having it confirmed did not make him happier.

“From any unprotected building. They don’t care who lives there. If they can get it, they do and take what they want.”

“Where’s everyone?” Carina asked.

Kaylie snorted. “If you mean right now? All around. If you mean when we’re not patrolling, then the Fernan Inn is where we regroup. We took over the building around it and have as many people sheltered there as we can. We’ve tried to expand, but there’s still a lot more of them than us, and we have no idea when the dungeon’s going to recall everyone.”

“We’re going to the inn,” Tibs said. “Is Jackal there?”

Garrett shrugged. “Him? He’s probably out there, kicking ass. The few times I’ve seen him, he was having a great time of all of this.”

“What about the guards?” Carina asked. “Where are they?”

Arnstein rolled his eyes. “Protecting the guild building.”

“Just that?” Tibs asked, walking. He couldn’t believe Harry would let Sebastian attack the town without fighting back.

“When this started,” Kaylie said, “half the guards turned on the others. I can’t tell you who came out on top, but the only time we’ve seen one since was when our patrol took us by the guild building.”

“And the adventurers there aren’t helping?” Carina asked.

Garrett hurried ahead of them, checking the alleys.

“Them, I haven’t even seen a strand of hair,” Arnstein said in disgust.

“Has there been any attempt on the dungeon?”

“Why would these people want to get into the dungeon?” Kaylie asked. “It would eat them up.”

Tibs didn’t know if that would happen. Could Sto do anything while he was working on his floors? Was he still working on them, or was he just waiting like Tibs asked? Once he knew the situation the town was in, he could go ask. Maybe there was something Sto could do to help. Val and Craren had mentioned that other dungeon would have sent creatures out to attack. Maybe Sto could do that too.

They were attacked once, as they were close to the inn, and Tibs hated feeling useless. It was too much like how he’d felt on his Street and in the early days of the dungeon runs. He was never taking his bracers off after this.

As soon as one attacker fell, the other ran off. Garrett was the only one injured since he’d been ahead of them. The next street over they were joined by other Runners, and they finished the trek under a large escort.

“Injury!” Kaylie yelled as they entered the inn. And the crowd parted around a table. Garreth was laid on it and a cleric stepped to him. She was tiny, pale and her skin sunk in. Suddenly, Tibs realized he knew her. She was the cleric by the pool of corruption, the one trying to clear it by herself.

Arms wrapped around Tibs. “You’re back!” Jackal yelled as Tibs screamed in pain from his shoulder being squeezed so tightly. Then he was on the floor, Jackal talking a step back, hands in the air. “I didn’t do it!”

Tibs let out a chuckle, then groaned in pain. He’d missed the fighter. “I’ll be fine.” He struggled to his feet and people moved again. A man in cleric’s robes approached him.

“Can I heal you?” Tibs nodded, and the cleric pulled the ripped cloth away from the wound. He frowned as he looked at it. “How did it stay closed?” he mused, then Tibs sighed as the pain disappeared. Along with it, his wariness, and the worry that he’d done the wrong thing by leaving for the purity dungeon. Carina’s and his presence here wouldn’t have changed things all that much, and now he had eight elements to use.

The clarity wouldn’t last, but it was a side effect of the healing he appreciated.

He moved his shoulder once the cleric was done. “How many clerics are here?”

“Six, including me,” the man replied.

Tibs frowned. “Only six? Where are the others? Or did most of them go home since they weren’t needed?”

“We are always needed,” the man said, “but yes, many did like the Runners and took the time for themselves.” His face darkened. “But too many of us took refuge in the guild house when the chaos started.” He shook his head. “Some of how have forgotten that work means being where there is trouble and danger, not comfort.”

“I’m glad you and your groups are here.” He looked at Jackal, who was looking at him warily. Tibs pulled the coppers he’d taken off the man and lobbed them at the fighter. “Loot from our run to the inn.”

Jackal caught some, then picked the rest of the floor. “You thought of me, I’m touched.”

Tibs pushed his way through the crowd and headed for the bar. “What happened?”

As soon as he reached it, a tankard was placed before him. The ale was watered, but Tibs appreciated it anyway.

“Just my father doing his run to take over the city while its strongest protectors are off resting.”

“I should have thought about that and gotten the others to stay.”

“I should have thought about it,” Jackal said. “I grew up under him. I should have known all this quiet was just him waiting for the right moment.” He let out a breath. “I’ve gotten too comfortable in this town, Tibs. I actually counted on Knuckles to deal with my father.”

“Harry’s a good man.”

“He’s a guard,” Jackal snapped. “Never trust a guard.”

Tibs nodded. Never trust a guard. Don’t trust the guild. Don’t trust nobles. Only the last one he hadn’t forgotten in his time here. “Where are the nobles?”

Jackal snorted. “Those who didn’t pay for my father to leave alone have guards making sure no one can get close to their home. And I mean, no one. A few of our people were shot before we figured out they didn’t want our help. There’s four nobles who’ve been helping.”

Tibs eyed Jackal. “What are they after?”

“Best as I figure, nothing.” He raised a hand. “I know, they’re nobles, but one of them is that archer friend of Mez. The other is her brother. She vouched for the other two. They’ve been taking orders without arguments, offering suggestions. One of her friends, I don’t remember her name. Opened her home to the townsfolk who can’t go to theirs.” He paused. “I know how you feel about them, Tibs, but if they’re after something, they are being really sneaky about it.”

Tibs bit back his reply. He’d avoided Mez’s friend after meeting her and Mez asking he give her a chance. He’d figured the only way she’d ever seem decent was if Tibs didn’t look too closely at her. So he had no reason to have her kicked out.

He hoped that wasn’t going to come back to stab him in the back.

“The team?”

“You and Carina are the only ones back. I don’t expect Mez or Khumdar to be back before the recall. Now that you’re back, do you think you can get the dungeon to open up?”

“Only if he’s done with his changes. But I can’t go there until I have my bracers. My armor would be nice, too. Do you have them?”

Jackal shook his head. “The first thing my father did was put people around the rooming houses. And until now, there hadn’t been much of a need to go in for our stuff. I’ve been staying here.”

Tibs nodded. “Where’s Kroseph? I expected him to be scolding me for getting hurt.”

Jackal was quiet, then hurried to say. “He’s alive.”

Tibs could breathe again.

“My father tried to set fire to the inn this morning. Before the sun was up. A lot of people are staying here, so it would have been a killing blow just for morale. Kro was up early, you know him. He was making sure everything was ready for the day when he smelled the smoke. He ran out, the idiot, and caught three of my father’s men who’d managed to slip through our patrols at the back. He yelled as loudly as he could. But before any of us could get there, he’d received a solid beating. There’s nothing left of those three Tibs. I made sure of it.”

“Good.”

“One of the clerics healed him, but Kro’s never been beaten up before. He’s never been in a fight that didn’t involve someone being unruly in the inn. It’s taken something from him.”

“Will he be okay?”

Jackal hesitated. “I hope so. I’ve seen it happen to others. But it’s never the same. And it’s never happened to someone…” He let out a breath. “I really hope he’s going to be okay.” He smiled. “I know seeing you will make him feel better.” He stepped away from the bar and Tibs followed him to the back.

The stairs led up to the floor with the common sleeping room, and every bed had people on them. Seven to a bed in places. Even the floor was occupied. The next floor had Kroseph’s family’s rooms, as well as a few rooms for those who had the coins to have a bed to themselves.

He knocked on a door. “Kro? It’s me.”

“Come in,” came the reply.

Tibs was inside before the door was fully open. Kroseph was seated on the bed, and Tibs hugged him before the server even realized he was there.

“Are you okay?” Tibs asked.

“I’m fine,” Kroseph said, hugging him back. “I’m just tired. Did you just come back?”

“Yes. And Jackal nearly ripped my shoulder out when he hugged me.”

“You did what?” The server demanded, standing.

“I didn’t do that!” Jackal backed against the door. “Kro, I swear, he’s just saying that because when I hugged him I hurt his injured shoulder.”

“Why would you hug him if he’s hurt?” Kroseph stepped to the fighter, who had his hands between them; as if they would stop anything.

“I didn’t know he was hurt. I was—”

“He came from out there! Of course, he was going to be hurt! You could have waited for a few minutes and let the clerics heal him.”

“Tibs?” Jackal pleaded.

Tibs grinned at the fighter and considered letting this go one longer, but he’d accomplished what he set out to. Kroseph was up and about. “I’m alright, and even if he’d have waited, I wouldn’t have thought to get a healer for it.”

The server looked at Tibs. “are you sure?” Tibs nodded. Kroseph looked at Jackal. “You are not out of trouble yet.”

The fighter nodded eagerly. “I’ll make it up to you when we get back.”

“Back? From where?” The server demanded, his fear rising.

“Tibs?” Jackal looked at him, pleading again.

“We need to go to our rooming house so I can get my equipment. I’m useless as it is.”

The server rounded on Tibs. “Do not ever say something like that! You are not useless, ever. This town would have already fallen to this one’s father, if not for you.”

“I wasn’t even here,” Tibs answered cautiously.

“Exactly!”

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