The Wandering Spire

"Where are you going?" Ziplocke asked.

The Goblin was loping alongside the much taller Frostsworn Healer. Mikal was marching down the corridor until they came to an intersection where they had two options. There was no sound and no visible signs to assist them in choosing which way to go. Nothing but sandstone-colored corridors with lines of pale light along the walls.

"Do not climb on my shoulder," Mikal growled.

The Healer pushed the Goblin off of him. Ziplocke sulked with his ears pulled back.

"You walk much faster than me!" He whined.

Mikal ignored the Demon and decided to go down the right passage. Ziplocke hurried after him. A sheen of sweat began to form on his green skin as he tried to keep pace.

"Do you have any idea where you are going?" Ziplocke asked.

Mikal answered, "No, I just want to find my team."

"We should have a plan," Ziplocke offered.

"There is no 'we,'" Mikal growled.

Ziplocke hissed back and stated, "You need me."

This caused the dark-haired Frostsworn to stop. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. I know these Tunnels," Ziplocke replied.

Mikal's face scrunched up, and he exclaimed, "You are lost as well! I am on to your lies. The others were not, but they will soon find out what I already know. You are a liar and cannot be trusted!"

Ziplocke gasped with a hand over his chest. "Why, I've never been so insulted in my life."

Mikal shook his head and continued walking.

"Without me, you will regret this!" Ziplocke cautioned.

Mikal waved without looking back, and the Healer grew smaller as he walked down the corridor.

Ziplocke sputtered Abyssal curses, and after a brief moment, he scampered after Mikal.

"You are a fool! But, I've grown fond of you and the others. I will help you," Ziplocke stated when he caught up.

The Healer did not respond and continued down the dimly lit passageway. Ziplocke hurried after, and the two marched down the twists and turns of the single tunnel. Mikal paused.

"Why is it twisting and turning? To what purpose?" The Healer wondered.

Ziplocke cackled and exclaimed, "I know why!"

Mikal crossed his arms and looked at the Goblin.

"Say that you need me," Ziplocke said.

The Healer rubbed his face and sighed. Ziplocke crossed his small arms and tapped a foot to the floor.

"Well?" Ziplocke asked.

"I'm thinking about it," Mikal responded.

Ziplocke swung his arms in the air and exclaimed, "You are so stubborn!"

Mikal remained silent. He crossed his arms, tapped his chin, and appeared lost in thought.

The Goblin shook as he was unable to remain silent. Ziplocke had to talk and brag about his knowledge, If only to prove his worth to the Healer. Finally, he couldn't hold out any longer.

"They shaped the Core Tunnels to form a giant Glyph," Ziplocke stated.

Mikal's eyes narrowed, and he asked, "Why? Like to form a massive channeling tool?"

"Exactly!"

Rune magic requires Glyphs and Will activate. It would take a caster an exorbitant amount of time to shape with their body the glyphs in order to cast a single spell. Rune casters make use of Channeling tools where Rune chains are etched upon the surface. In order to cast a spell, the Rune Caster taps the tool and finishes the final series of glyphs. This saves time.

Ziplocke explained, "There is a focus point where it is tapped to activate this massive Glyph chain."

"The caster then completes the final glyph. What spell requires such an enormous Channeling Tool?" Mikal wondered.

"With the energy from the Hold Core, this is how all the Portals are powered," Zipolocke explained.

Mikal uncrossed his arms, and he knelt down to be at the same level as the Goblin. "Earlier, you told Jeze there were four Hold Cores all together."

"That's correct," Ziplocke said, letting loose a nervous snicker.

"Without the Cores, then what happens?" Mikal asked.

"The Stronghold will turn into a massive Tower!" Ziplocke answered as he hopped up and down.

"Will people be trapped if the Portals shut down?" Mikal asked.

Ziplocke gleefully replied, "No! You see, the Stronghold's defenses will also shut down, and stairwells will appear. One can travel the Spire as normal! Or, they can power the Portals with their own energy!"

Mikal nodded in understanding. "We will be free to travel the entirety of the Wandering Spire," he observed.

"Yes!" Ziplocke squeaked.

"All the treasures the Fiends have stolen from countless dimensions…" Mikal said with greed clearly written in his eyes.

The Goblin finished the Healer's sentence, "...Will be free for the taking."

"Gems and coins?" Mikal asked.

"Piles so deep that they go beyond what you can imagine," Ziplocke answered.

"Magical knowledge?" Mikal asked.

"Tomes filled with Rune patterns so advanced it will make what you know appear like children's tricks," Ziplocke said.

The Healer rubbed his hands together, and he motioned for the Goblin to hop on his shoulder. "Come, we have to find the others."

Ziplocke scampered up the frostsworn's body to rest on his shoulders. "Exactly! We need meat shields."

Mikal grinned over his shoulder, and the two continued down the twisting corridors. But alas, their positive relationship was not meant to last. After a few short moments, Ziplocke complained that Mikal made too much noise.

"What are you talking about?" The Healer growled.

"You make as much noise as a lost Yeti!" Ziplocke snapped.

"I do not!" Mikal responded.

The Goblin continued, "And your spear is constantly hitting the walls and floor. Honestly, I'm surprised we have not alerted the whole Stronghold yet of our presence," and then the Goblin muttered, "At least Jeze knew how to move silently."

Mikal stopped moving and glared at the Demon on his shoulder. "Do not compare me to her," he growled.

Ziplocke recognized that he may be kicked off the Healer's shoulder and forced to run on his own. He changed his tone.

"I'm sorry. You are clearly more talented than her," the Goblin stated with his lips curled back into a grin.

Mikal snorted, and the two continued down the corridors. They came upon an intersection with a closed door in the middle. Two other passageways branched off to their left and right.

"We should avoid the door," Mikal said.

Ziplocke agreed, and the two went down the left corridor. This one ran for a while with a few twists and sharp turns. After about fifteen minutes, Ziplocke called for a halt.

"Are you deaf?" The Goblin asked.

Mikal glared at the Demon from over his shoulder. "Why would you ask that?"

"Do you not hear that sound up ahead?" Ziplocke whispered.

Mikal paused to listen. There was the sound of chanting that echoed faintly off the walls. It was nearly indiscernible, and Mikal wondered how the Goblin heard it.

"Stick to the Shadows and lets creep closer," Ziplocke whispered.

"Is this worth it?" Mikal asked.

The Goblin's lips pulled back, and he responded, "It could be an old cultist and a room full of treasure."

Mikal paused. The Frozen All Father does not approve of banditry or robbery. However, the Healer rationalized that they were dealing with Demon worshiping cultists. Mikal was certain that the All Father would make an exception in this case. The two crept forward from within Ziplocke's Summoned Shadows.

"Be careful. The noise is coming from just around that bend," Ziplocke cautioned.

Mikal, with the Goblin on his shoulder, crept closer to peek around and they saw an expansive circular chamber with a hellish altar with a giant statue in its center.

"Is that a Fiend?" Mikal whispered.

The statue was of a giant creature that stood on two goat like legs. It had a muscular torso, a horned head, and giant bat-like wings that were spread out behind it.

Ziplocke tilted his head and replied, "It is a little small, but yeah, that is what a Fiend looks like."

"Small?" Mikal gasped. The statue was nearly twice his height and double the width of Rolfe!

Ziplocke cocked his head and stated, "Yeah. A real Fiend is bigger, now shush!"

Mikal shook his head. There were levels to Adventuring. The Fiend looked extremely formidable, and he doubted that his team could handle such an encounter. The circular chamber appeared to be a temple of sorts with multiple entrances and exits evenly spaced around it. Nearly two dozen dark-robed cultists entered and milled about the chamber that echoed with their whispered conversations. Mikal's eyes lit up at the pile of treasure placed at the foot of the statue as the cultists each made an offering. The treasure glittered from gems, coins, and even a Rune-covered spear! I could use that, Mikal thought to himself as he wondered what the Rune patterns offered. A pair of cultists entered the chamber, dragging a third person. Mikal's eyes narrowed. The third person appeared to be a malnourished man in the padded undergarments one wore with heavy armor. The clothes hung loosely over his famished frame. The man pleaded helplessly.

"We have to do something," Mikal said. His face hardened, and all thoughts of treasure were forgotten.

"Like what? By ourselves? Are you mad?" Ziplocke snapped.

The prisoner was forced to his knees before the altar, and another cultist approached. This one wore an elaborate skull mask and had golden threads that ran along the hems of their brown robe. The robe was similar to the one Val wore, but this cultist was clearly not Val. They appeared taller and more masculine with broad shoulders. The cult leader drew a long, wicked knife, and without any preamble or ceremony, they sliced the prisoner across the throat. Mikal gasped.

"We need to find our team and end this," the Healer said and made to turn back.

"No, we watch and we learn what they are up to," Ziplocke insisted.

"I can't watch this," Mikal growled.

"But we must. This is a rare opportunity for us to learn what our enemy is up to," Ziplocke added.

Mikal couldn't disagree with that logic. The masked cultist performed tapped the channeling tool he wore around his neck and completed a series of Glyphs that the Healer did not recognize.

"What aspect is that?" Mikal wondered.

"The Rift aspect. Mortals can not use the aspect unless they are gifted it from a Fiend. Even then, their Will and Soul can not manage the chaotic energies. That is why they needed a sacrifice. The violent death releases an energy that allows the cultist the power to control the Rift aspect," Ziplocke explained.

It was unusual, but sometimes the Goblin could be very informative. Mikal nodded and forced himself to watch the cult leader make a familiar purple tear in reality. The huge statue shook, and its horned head turned to look down upon the gathered cultist.

"Where is the one I usually speak with?" The statue intoned in a deep, rumbling voice that vibrated throughout the chamber.

"My Dark Lord, she is indisposed at the moment. My name is Rodrick, and I have made offerings to you," the masked man said, and he and the gathered cultist knelt before the altar.

Mikal watched with regret as the pile of treasure was sucked up into the shimmering purple rift. It would have been nice to have that coin and the spear, he forlornly thought to himself.

"This is adequate. But you have failed me. I sense one has made it to our Hold Core," the Demon intoned.

Its rage was palpable and caused even Mikal to shiver. Several cultists fell over with convulsions, and the masked man visibly shook.

"Please, Dark Lord. Grant me the gift, and I will seek out this defiler at once!" The masked cult leader cried.

"You are willing to pay the price?" The Fiend asked.

"Yes!"

"Very well," the statue resumed its original posture.

The shimmering purple rift flared as a vortex of purple flames shot out and engulfed the masked man. He screamed as if he was being burned, but the flames gave off no smoke. It appeared that they extracted a silver essence from the man and the flames returned through the purple rift before it snapped shut. The masked man fell to the ground. Ziplocke shook his head.

"He will regret that," the Goblin muttered.

"What happened?" Mikal asked, horror on his face.

"Never make deals with Fiends. He traded his soul for power over the Rift aspect," Ziplocke answered.

"We should go and find the others," Mikal stated.

"Especially Jeze. I believe she found the Hold Core. They will be after her," Ziplocke stated.

Mikal rose, and the tip of his spear hit the wall. The sound echoed throughout the chamber, and a dozen robed heads turned in their direction.

"Perhaps you are right about my spear making too much noise," Mikal admitted.

"Run, fool!" Ziplocke cried.