Accidental Reaver

Chapter 222 - 221: Verdant Hallow

Elaria never had skyscrapers. In terms of size, however, the Silver-Black Tower surpassed any of those back on Earth as far as Luke was concerned.

Since he already claimed a prize, Luke watched the runes swim around the outer surface of the Silver Black Tower. Sooty hopped in and out the feet of a stoic guard—betrayed by his own sweat. Due to the monic's poise and position, he never said a thing. Strutting over, the Reaver lazily put his back against the Silver Black Tower and waited. Xera rested against his right shoulder. She lit up, unusually somber. "Are you sure about what you're planning to do, Master? Fights against the odds are the best, but…"

"Not here, Xera. The walls have ears. But yes, real avarice circles fake opulence."

Various mid-ranked Tower Teams streamed in. Many glanced at Luke quizzically. He winked at them in good fun. Accomplished, but not arrogant. Well, okay, a little arrogant. He'd earned it. Dangerous as it was. The Silver Black Tower actually had no hard-set method against entering it. Hence, the pair of guards at each of the four archway entrances. With nowhere else to be, the Reaver counted teams pouring into the central structure. Twenty…Fifty…a Hundred. Whistling lowly, he ceased counting after that. Tier 2 hunters congregated in substantial force. The amount of tier 3 hunters on the other hand? Luke counted two in the last thirty minutes lazed away. A dying species, practically.

Wandering images flooded an idle brain. It started pleasantly enough, Luke's dad smiling at him. A hug, accolades, an 'I love you son'. Malformed mist twisted the mental picture, an apparatus hooked onto the unsuspecting father. Blood flowed, the smile turned to agony. The jovial man became a husk, muttering, 'Son.' War-torn whispers coiled into veteran ears. Before they could influence the Reaver further, a cracking sound from underneath him, and shoved the unpleasant thoughts out. Sooty comically pulled at his cape.

His fingers dug into the stone. As they sank further, the fissures became widespread. Back in reality, Luke laughed without words. Internally, he lamented. Got over the whispers and worries? They bided their time, is all. Dad. Would you approve of what I'm going to do soon? I'd like to think you'd forgive me planning the ruin of one family just to possibly reunite ours. He kept back a tear. Fuck, why did you have to be a good father to me? It'd be so much easier to move on.

Featherlight steps weaved their sound through thunderous paw pads. Sooty cawed in glee. Lulu hooted at her friend. Iona crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the widespread cracks in the stone. Not in the mood to explain or defend the carelessness, the Reaver waved at the elf, getting up in the process. He crossed the three platform steps, scratching Timber's ears next. Fluffy bugger.

Using an over-the-top faux greeting for diversion, he stooped with a hand out to the side, flashing a smile not all the way genuine. "Reporting for duty, boss. Care to take your newbie out for a Tower joy ride?"

Mythril alloy chainmail links clicked across Iona's visage. She brushed a hand along her short bow. "The Tower is no place to take lightly. And please, I'm your captain, not boss. This is just embarrassing me, and giving the admirers the wrong idea."

"On to business, then. What's the floor that contains a tier 3 creature? Doesn't matter if they're regular, elite or what have you."

"The 15th. Generally, that's the point Tower Teams without a tier 3 in their team refuse to go any further. There, you encounter a tier 3 raid boss, Gelmareth, level 75. Often it's killed by one of the top five Tower Teams, including mine. I have it on good authority—my own—that it's dead. Makes using the anchor network an easier task until we reach floors that won't bore you."

Reaching for any information he'd heard about the Tower up until now, Luke said. "Veyri once mentioned greenback raids to me. Where do those happen?"

"Newbie runs? Ineffective for you. It's a lure spot method of the Verdant Hallow floors. Easy profits too, level sixty to sixty-five creatures, except for the variants."

"How much money we talking?" Luke waved in dismissal. "Never mind, I'm getting off topic. So, how can we get to floor 16 fast, or is the next crop of tier 3 monsters deeper still?"

"We use the anchor network to drastically shortcut the delving. Each one brings you to the floor of the next anchor down. It's a one-way system. You're sure you don't want to enjoy the sights? Take it easy for the initial journey? The Tower is quite a jump from anything the three dungeons expose you to." She prodded at Timber's muscle bound shoulders. "Crystal Demon Point's cavern can mimic it when too many of their creatures bunch up like well-coiled tree roots. Tends to result in death when that happens."

In one ear and out the other. Luke translated that as the first fourteen floors being a spring picnic. He rubbed Whispering Tome's spine. "Are they anything that threatens a tier 3? How do they compare to an Envoy? Multiple of them?"

Iona brushed past Luke. She snapped her fingers. "Let's head in. We're a team of two officially, better to say five instead."

"Six! Wait, need to include sword book. Seven! No artifact oppression, elf lady." Xera said. Luke entered the archway a step behind Iona. A thin, cloudy veil with black and silver ether veins distorted the Tower's internal guts.

Iona paused inches away from the veil. "Flowers bloom, Xera. I merely forgot. You're as much on the team as I, the companions, or Luke is. As are others of your race."

"Finally, the recognition I deserve. These rosters are institutional cruelty."

"Now, where did you learn such big girl words?" Luke said.

"Cedric said them a couple of times during the lectures. Petty system, we're sentient too. I'm learning!"

He patted Xera, as that seemed the correct move to make. Wayfinder ticked loudly. Plopping itself smack dab in the middle of Luke's vision, the Interface announced an invitation.

[Iona has invited you to join her Party]

Luke accepted. "Reckon it would've said Tower Team. Aren't I in yours now?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Tower Teams are a group type pretty specific to Sylen. Or organized teams visiting Sylen to delve the dangerous ether sinkhole. In the Interface, you're either solo, in a party, or a raid. Instead, you're on a roster kept by the Defier's guild, posted on a board kept in various locations. Rankings are updated every other week."

"Fair enough. It's a nitpick either way. The ranks mean much?"

"Prestige, recognition. The actual reward is being put as lowest priority to border duty for the Duchy. Any of the top five teams enjoy that benefit. Sylen's Defiers rarely are conscripted for emergency service either way." She thumbed to the Tower's structure. "As you've probably noticed, we dominate the highest teams, and thusly, control this negative ether container. It doubles as Sylen's resource spot and prime training ground. It comes at a price, the guillotine that hangs at Elaria's throat. Forget the potential tier 4 overlord creature that can spawn if floors are neglected. Destroy the Tower, and you destroy the section of the Defiling Barrier attached to the Duchy that protects us. We stay here to oversee the heartland. The other cities and towns drain themselves to fortify the border."

Iona winked at Luke and passed through the veil with her companions. Thin runes lined the archway entrance, split by the veil. Stagnant air clung to the undulating visual barrier, scented by ozone and trace sulfur. He pushed out a hand, faithfully piercing through the demarcation. Uncomfortable with the disconnect, Luke got the show on the road, diving headfirst next. Black sealed all five of his senses.

Dread built, cold touched the soul, and greed staining its depths aroused itself from the foreign stimulation. Light shone within the black. Twisted nether purple ether snaked itself through Luke and Sooty. Touch. Taste. Smell. Sound. Sight. They tumbled back in one after the other, like reluctant students coming back to class after summer break. Singsong laugher rang beside the Reaver, flanked by hoots and a bear's snort.

Humidity clung to his skin. Thick dark emerald green moss carpeted cracked stone, poorly concealed by etherous fog. Fungal spores traveled freely in the air. Green-blue illumination sparkled from gigantic mushrooms. Pressure announced itself, affecting Luke on a metaphysical level. Noticeable, like an itch, but also as threatening as one. Luke inhaled spore filled air, the threatening actors froze, and dropped.

[Your elemental body rejects poisoned spores and ether draining properties]

Eyes sharp, Iona commented, "Circumvented the need for any poison resistance, did you? Elementals trivialize most of the hostile environment. Even I have to drain my concentration with my technique, or Domain, to filter out the pressure and other annoyances down here." The Beastmaster clasped a hand on Luke's shoulder. Tendrils of her green nature elemental scanned him. "Not a trace in you. Welcome to the Verdant Hallow. This mushroom haven is home to amphibious fish-men, Ratis Ether Leeches, and other fun surprises. Since we're going to take the central path to the anchor network, seeing anything else but the first two would color me surprised."

Snuffing his boots against the wet, fungus filled soil, Luke looked up out of curiosity. Beyond the green fog, several dozen feet high, lay nothing. Just nothing. A total absence of concept—pitch black emptiness. Wherever the tallest fungal tower ended, the obliteration of matter began.

"Safe to say flying or jumping up too high is not a good idea?" Luke kept Sooty close out of protective instinct, "Watch yourself, buddy. The skies are stuck with an agenda." Shadows weaved and carved around the corvid, repelling the spores with some effort.

"That's the ether void, a pocket of space between us and the Spire we're so casually taking a sightseeing vacation in. A little deeper into the Verdant Hallow, it'll be replaced by a cavern ceiling. Ready to cross the root bridge so patiently waiting for you to get your head straight?"

Roots bridges spiraled down the moss infested cove the pair occupied. Iona skipped along, flaring her arms out, finger tips facing up, palms out. Timber faithfully took the helm, escorting his beastmaster. He whipped his head side to side, wary of the mists. Lulu flapped her wings irritably. Luke let Xera revolve around him. Dark essence blazed from her wand tip. "Where's the monsters at? I'm rearing to go, to blast guts, make art with limbs. The usual!"

Iona chuckled, "The way we're going will have them cleared out. At least until we go past the point where Tower Teams rostered by just tier 2 hunters is feasible. They take care of the initial three zones like this quite well if you stick to the popular hunting routes."

Luke strode down the root bridge spiral, fungal structures invited him in deeper. The spore clouds thickened, faint sound echoes bounced around in the green haze, and wet gas. Corpses of leeches littered teeming ponds. Green-scaled biped fish rotted at the water's edge. Curious, the Reaver used the Interface on the two monster types. Recoil spanned the connection between him and the nebulous Interface.

"Any reason I can't inspect those things?" Luke faintly recalled similar scenarios playing out in the past. This world spanning structure sure liked being picky.

"Contribute to killing them, and you'll be given access. They're mere level 60 to 65 common monsters. Send a little ice their way, and see them all keel over and die. Weakest denizens of the Verdant Hallow, their danger comes in numbers, the ether leeches especially."

Trailing further down, the root bridge spiral crammed against the stalk of a titanic mushroom. Weak, poisonous spores froze every time they carelessly entered Luke's respiratory tract. The gaseous green bubbled in moisture, spores, and thin poison. Intermittent platforms encircled the root bridge. Once the team passed four, they reached the bottom of the dungeon road.

The mushroom stalk rooted into the breathing moss ground. Moisture turned the air slick. Blue-purple carven walls dripped luminous sap, bioluminescent spores clung to the substance. Thin water streams trickled on this floor. Luke spotted other tier 2 hunters. They noted Iona and Luke, then went back to what they were doing—waiting. Iona nodded at the nearest ones, gesturing for Luke to come along, as she trotted through the centermost moss creases. Leeches dove from above in the cavern, tendrils of wood sprouted from Iona, impaling each one with surgical precision. Thunderous sparks arced from Timber's Paws, assisting Iona in exterminating the pests.

Shorter clusters of brown mushroom caps repelled the otherwise omnipresent green. Iona pointed one out as they passed it. "Best thing to a rest point down here. Monsters can come in at any time. The caps are poison eaters, and a fungicide to any other mushroom not the same species. Nothing to be done about the ether pressure, adapt to it."

"A mushroom safe spot, I'll take it. This pressure, it's hardly a bother."

"True, it's a slight fetter to a normal tier 2. The pressure any tier 3 extrudes is above this. Be warned, it gets worse the deeper you go from floor to floor. It'll sneak up on you if you let it."

A ring of fish scale corpses, leeches, and what seemed to be amphibious orcs surrounded a silver black crystalline orb. Two Tower Teams staked out the premise, staying within shooting distance of one semi-circle of the nexus point. Luke surmised they claimed four cavern entrances each. When a pack of fish men covered eels and leeches charged down with a 'MRGLLL' war-cry, the nearest Tower Team kicked into action, skillfully rebuffing the assault. Xera incomprehensibly mumbled, with palpable disappointment.

"See the two groups? This is one of the better spots for a greenback raid, easy gold, and experience for your initial levels at tier 2. We're at the Verdant Hallow anchor cavern, as past hunters colloquially coined it. Palm its surface, and if the floor boss below is dead, we can teleport to the next node. On that note, see that purple circle etching on its surface? That disappears if the boss is alive. That's how you know we have the Tower's blessing to use it."

"Anything different about it if the boss is up, other than the symbol peeling off to the void?"

"None at all. Either the symbol is there, or it isn't. The anchor is completely inert without the symbol. Using it is a poor choice, otherwise." She put up a finger, then bent it, as if remembering basic information. "That's right…using an anchor when it's inert turns it into a temporary monster lure. That function can be incredibly useful, or dangerous, depending on your circumstances. Have other questions before we go?"

"I don't know what I don't know. There's the sense I should ask more, but it's passing me by." Luke shrugged his shoulders. "It'll come. On to the next."

"Hop to it, better we link to the next anchor together. It's automatic, unlike a lot of aspects, the Interface takes it as implied consent. It won't prompt you."

The Reaver reached out to the anchor steadily. He assumed any companions would come with, as many such teleports in this world had done so. As a Beastmaster, Iona would've been sensitive to that nuance and mentioned it if it weren't the case. Gloved fingers connected to the anchor point. A silver black pentagram shone underneath the Reaver and Beastmaster. After a buildup of colored light, each blipped from their position.

With the two ascended gone, the other teams in the cavern acted comfortable enough to speak again.

"Two Defiers at once, terrible luck running into them on the early levels like this. From the way they were speakin', it must be the virgin run for the Ice Defier."

"Sightings of him are scarcer than a phoenix feather. Any mentions are usually in submitted dungeon journals."

"You mean to tell me he got that sort of strength without even setting foot into the Tower yet? What have I been doing with my life? Iona's always been someone to be on your toes near, but him? An evolved for sure."

"What any of us have been doing, surviving. Care to kill the next round of mernocks? Our team could use a breather."

"Give my team a round at the tavern after, and you've got yourself a deal. We all need a drink. The Tide damn near made me retire early."

"We can spit and shake on it later. Tides are rough, no one will argue on that."