The Legend of William Oh

“Well, that’s more exotic, for sure,” Ben mused as they looked down at the hunk of Lava Beetle.

The carefully preserved hunk of flesh must’ve come from climbers on the third floor. The Trial didn’t care that no aspirant could possibly get to the third floor and back.

“Whaddya think?” Ben asked. “Fire and Earth. Two of the most useful abilities for a spellslinger.”

“Also the most hotly contested Relics,” Will mused, rubbing his chin.

“For the love of—”

“Anything that grants full magic growth?” he asked, glancing up at the merchant.

“Here?” the merchant asked, motioning to the bazaar in general. “Nothing with strong growth or good abilities, anyways.”

“What about Uru Drake?” Will asked. “Where could I get—”

The leathery-faced traveler laughed in Will’s face. “If I had Uru Drake, I would sell it to a Lord’s son and live the rest of my life in ease.”

“It’s not guaranteed, but a climber could get the Teleport ability from it. And even without that, it’s got strong growth and it blends seamlessly with nearly any Class, providing more powerful abilities than they might’ve otherwise gained. It’s worth more than everything and everyone else in this Bazaar combined.”

Will blinked. He hadn’t heard that.

Ben gave him a sidelong glance.

“Well, whaddya got anyway?” Will asked.

“You wanna be a Climber, eh? Charge focus? That’s a hard path, but you seem like the type that likes to aim high,” the leathery man asked, opening up a chest of preserved meat, usually retaining a portion of shell or distinctive feature of the monster’s original body, to prevent counterfeiting.

“Here’s what I got for Charge,” the merchant said as he peeled away a layer of waxed paper to reveal what he had on offer. Will’s eyes scanned through the hand-painted tags, confirming what he already knew.

Ethereal Hare

Adds movement and dodging abilities to an Aspirant’s Class. Favored by scouts and speed-oriented builds.

2 kinesthetics, 1 acuity

Spirit Turtle

Adds passive defense abilities to an Aspirant’s Class. Favored by Climbers who wish to survive grueling engagements.

2 resistance, 1 focus

Dreamcatcher

Adds Sleep and Plant abilities to an Aspirant’s Class. Favored by Charge-focused Support Climbers.

1 acu, 1 foc, 1 res

Will gasped, reaching out only for the merchant’s pipe to smack the back of his hand.

“This may be the most expensive piece I have, but the turtle’s a better choice for you,” the weathered man said, shifting his posture as he sat back again. РΆ𐌽ＯΒĘs

“But…” Will pointed at the Dreamcatcher, which grew both magic stats and Resistance. Plus, sleeping support abilities made one extremely valuable on the Climb, for both crowd control and morale, while Plant abilities were excellent logistics and utility. It would bolster the strength of abilities and the usage he could get from the Uru Drake, while still adding resistance.

“Listen, kid, the one thing that every climber who becomes a Lord has in common, is that they are alive when they do it. You hear stories about the likes of Baron Akul, or Lord Bakton, or the Rotwitch. You don’t hear stories about so-and-so who died ignominiously on the First Floor because they went all-in on offense with their build.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked, squinting.

“It’s about surviving long enough to—”

“No, what does ‘ignoramously’ mean?” Will clarified.

“He’s right, you know.” A familiar voice sounded behind Will and Ben.

They turned and saw the adventuring party from before.

“You’re not gonna find any Climbers above the Fifth Floor who don’t have a strong defense. It gives you the leeway to make mistakes and learn from them,” Kyle said, pointing to one of the scars over his eye. “Dropped my sword. Now I keep it on a lanyard.”

He traced a wicked scar just under his jaw. “Used to skimp on armor fittings. Exposed a bit of neck. Now I stand still for as long as the fitter tells me to.”

He lifted his shirt, revealing a jagged seam of puckered flesh across his midsection. “Shield strap broke. Bad luck.”

“Welp, I’m sold,” Will said, turning back to the merchant. “One spirit turtle Sacrifice, please.”

“Twenty silver,” the merchant said, holding out an expectant palm.

Will felt physically ill as he handed the cash over. It was more than half of what he’d earned from selling the tongue. Turned out you can’t get retail price unless you preserve it yourself and set up a shop to find people willing to pay.

Still, Will thought as he tucked the Sacrifice away in his satchel. Two thirds of the way there. On day one. Not bad.

“We stopped by on the way back from setting up base camp and were surprised to find someone else farming the wheat goblins,” Kyle said as Will turned away from the merchant.

Ben took Will’s spot, jingling his share of the silver in his hands as he scanned the preserved Sacrifices expectantly.

“He thought you were gonna kidnap us and sell us into slavery,” Ben called over his shoulder before returning to peruse the selection.

“Well, how do we know they didn’t kidnap Heath?” Will turned back to ask Ben.

“Hey, thanks for the advice, you guys,” Heath said as he lumbered by, clasping hands with Kyle for a quick shake.

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“…How do we know that’s not someone using a Disguise Ability to make us lower our guards?” Will demanded as soon as he recovered from Heath’s sudden appearance.

“Later, pussy,” Heath directed at Will before lumbering on, his coin purse jingling with copious copper pieces from all the wheat gremlins he’d hunted, his giant two-hander slung over his shoulder.

The five stoic Climbers broke into gales of laughter as soon as Heath was out of earshot.

“I like the way your head works, kid. Paranoia serves a Climber well. Just not in this case,” Kyle said, wiping a tear out of his eye. “But relax. Just the ring on my finger is worth a dozen of you. With all the brutal honesty I can muster: Kid, you’re simply not worth the effort of taking advantage of.”

“Wow, that makes me feel better!” Will sassed.

“Good,” Kyle said, patting him on the shoulder with a calloused hand that felt hard as rock. “C’mon guys, let’s get a drink. Maybe there’s some Ganishans in town for The Hunt.”

“They do know how to party,” the bow-wielding man murmured as he followed.

The Climbers filed off, with the wand-wielding woman stopping to pinch his cheeks as she passed by.

Will tried to dislodge her, but her Strength made that a futile endeavor, and he was forced to endure the indignity. It must’ve only been a couple seconds, but it felt like an eternity before she let go and faded into the throngs of people among the bazaar.

“Check this out!” Ben said, showing him a copper ring with malachite studs.

Will’s nose wrinkled as he caught a whiff of an acrid scent that evaporated into nothing. “Eh?”

“My first Relic!” Ben said. “The Sting Ring.”

“You realize you don’t have a Class yet?” Will asked. “Also, a Relic you can buy for silver isn’t gonna be a game-changer.”

“Dad already got me the Sacrifices. I’m just hunting to ‘get an idea what the first peoples went through,’ buy some of my own equipment in the process.” Ben gazed at the malachite-studded ring covetously. “This, here…I earned this myself.”

He seemed to come to, glancing up and shaking Will by the shoulders. “Let’s go test it!”

“What’s it do?”

“It adds a tiny amount of acid damage to attacks, and when I get Charge, it has an Ability that can launch an unerring acid bolt.”

Will thought about it for a moment. If it was for sale for twenty silver, the effects could not be particularly potent. Not to mention, any self-respecting Climber with a direct damage Ability would use their own, rather than that of a middling ring.

A Climber measured Charge regeneration by the week, so every point counted.

“They didn’t have any rings of Accuracy?” Will asked. “Because I’m more worried about you missing.”

“The cheapest one was three gold pieces for a 1.2% correction.”

Will winced. That was so far out of his price range for such a tiny increase in accuracy that it boggled the mind.

“Alright, let’s go test it out.”

Together, the two of them headed back through The Gate, and Ben put on the ring, firing his bow into a nearby tree.

They were a bit disappointed until they spotted thin tendrils of smoke rising out of the narrow wounds inflicted by the arrows. That got them excited for a few minutes, but the acid damage was never worse than a few wisps of smoke that quickly dwindled to nothing.

Will had cautioned himself not to get emotionally invested in the ring, but he was still a little bummed at his first close encounter with a Relic.

“Maybe the acid will cause extra pain?” Ben hazarded.

“You could do the same by dipping them in lemon juice,” Will pointed out.

“Damnit, you’re right,” Ben mused, looking at his ring.

“Look, it’s gonna be a long time before you manage to find a better ring for that slot, and something is better than nothing,” Will said. “And it’s easier than carrying around a lemon with you everywhere you go.”

“Yeah, fair enough. I’ll use it till I find something better, then put it up on the mantel.” Ben went back to rubbing the Relic manically, hunching over the ring protectively. “My first Relic…it’s precious to me.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Look, I gotta go home and sleep these bruises off. Gertrude’s gonna probably keep me busy for a while to stop me from going out before I heal, too...” He glanced at the bandages over the scratches on his arms and torso. At least a week.

“Next week?” Will asked, offering his hand.

“Alright, sounds good,” Ben said, shaking it. “I’ll probably do a little hunting on the edges during the week. Wheat gremlins and the like. When you get back, I might have two Relics.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Will said, waving as he left.

Will and Ben broke up, and Will trudged all the way back to Saint Gertrude’s, up one good Sacrifice and down a bunch of minor wounds.

As predicted, Gertrude gave him an earful for using up half the bandages on the first day, and forbade him from leaving the house until next week.

Which was fine, because once the pain really set in, Will didn’t really want to leave the orphanage for another week, even with the malicious gremlins haunting the halls and Marissa constantly trying to pick a fight.

That night, Gertrude visited his room. Will had the rare honor of having his own room, being the only young man old enough to join The Hunt.

“I’ve been waiting until you’re in a good position to talk,” Gertrude said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “About your parents,” she clarified.

Will glanced down at his wound-covered body, which had stiffened once he cooled down and the wounds began to scab. Now, between the cuts and the massive bruise around his torso, moving even the slightest bit caused intense pain.

“You waited for me to be too wounded to avoid this conversation?”

“Precisely.” Gertrude gave him a fatalistic smile that gave him chills. It was disturbingly unlike the Saintly expression she wore in front of the others.

“Will, it’s been five years. Your parents are most likely dead.”

“You said they were gone three years before that. Maybe they just went further up The Tower this time.”

“Nobody has climbed The Tower higher than the—”

“Then where are my servants? Scratch that, where are my fucking shoes!?” Will demanded as a bit of the old simmering emotion leaked past the seal he kept around his heart.

Gertrude let his words flow past her, showing no reaction to his anger as he desperately stuffed it back down where it belonged.

“I used to Climb, you know. Got to the twelfth floor.”

Will’s brows rose. He figured she’d been a Climber at some point, to afford that Relic, but…the twelfth?

“I met all kinds of people,” Gertrude said, her gaze going distant as she spoke. “Saw a lot of good people die, and a lot of bad people prosper. Eventually, when Ian—” Her throat constricted. “Eventually, I’d had enough of the life, but your parents continued on. I realized that there are two different kinds of Climbers.

“There are those who are after money and power. They always stop somewhere between floor eight and fifteen, having carved out a little kingdom for themselves.”

“So, Mom and Dad…”

“They were the second kind: the people who’ve become addicted to the challenge, to uncovering the mystery of The Tower.”

“Mystery?” Will asked.

“There’s things up there, vestiges of an unknown past that cast doubt on everything we think we know.”

“Like what?”

Gertrude pursed her lips for a moment. “On the tenth floor, we found the ruins of a town. We made camp in it for the night. One of our members was half asleep in the morning and wandered off before he started screaming. When we arrived, he wasn’t injured or attacked, but scared out of his mind.

“He had realized that the outline of the ruins matched the layout of his hometown precisely, right down to where his father’s bakery was.”

Will’s hair stood on end. “That’s a coincidence…or an illusion…right?”

“I’ve seen far too many strange ‘coincidences’ to believe that,” Gertrude mused. “In any case, that mystery, those nagging questions that build up and haunt you…they drove your parents onward.

“If they ever come back, they could shed more light on the mystery of The Tower than any other Climber, live or dead…but I wouldn’t hold out hope.”

Will frowned, but didn’t argue with her.

“Which kind of Climber do you want to be?” Gertrude asked.

“I want money,” Will said.

“If you want money, I can sell the Uru Drake for you—”

“Fine. I want power. Enough to decide the course of my life. I want my parents. I wanna track them down and give them both a good thrashing for their irresponsibility.”

“And what if that’s not possible? What if you can never reach them, because they’ve already passed from this world? Are you going to dedicate your life to pain, struggle, and death chasing a hopeless goal?”

“So what you’re saying is…I should adopt an achievable goal that will include punching my dad in the face as a byproduct of the journey, and not the destination.”

“I…well, yes, that’s actually quite wise, but...”

“Then my goal will be to make it to the tenth floor and carve out a Lordship there,” Will said. “Then I will push further up, funneling money and Relics back down to my demesne, until the entire floor is pacified. Then I will do it again. And again, until the entire Tower is mine.”

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