Or am I drawing connections that aren't there?
Perhaps the architecture here was just meant to baffle everyone, he grumbled to himself. It was baffling to him, at the very least. He still hadn't been able to find the hidden door, and a trip up the original staircase only let him to an open area where wind and rain had damaged much of the architecture. No stairs went further up.
How did I get up there? Was it Vvim? The little creature said the Tower belonged to them, the Geist. Felix went over the conversation in his head again, reliving it, picking out bits the Geist said...and didn't say. They said they were old. Centuries old? They looked ancient, for sure. Their fur was white and thin, their face super wrinkly. But they were also powerful, crazy fast, and perceptive. How it watched them at all still eluded Felix, though he suspected the creature had some sort of spying or observation Skill.
Maybe Vvim can melt into the walls or something. He glanced at a nearby wall, solid and impervious in his Manasight, and scooted a few inches away. He knew so little about Vvim, the Geist, or even his companions currently. As the night went on and the dark pressed in closer, Felix felt adrift, just a little.
So many things could go wrong tomorrow. The Guilders are skilled and powerful, and I feel like I can hold my own for at least a little while. But the 'what ifs' concern me. The giants could return, the assassin could attack at the wrong moment, the prisoners could be too hurt to move. Felix felt inundated by the immensity of it all, and almost heard those whispering voices in the acid sea. They scraped against the ship of his mind, tipping it, scratching it, looking to drag him down again.
Felix's breath quickened. He knew he wasn't in that place anymore, but it still hit him like a punch in the dark. His blood felt thick and heavy, yet his pulse raced a thousand miles per hour, and he squeezed his fists so hard his tendons creaked. Haltingly, he re-imagined that castle, the fortress of high walls and impervious gates. His bastion. The water crashed against those walls but couldn't get in, the creatures lashed the stone but found no purchase. Slowly, he firmed his resolve, flaring his Willpower to push his terror away. Felix's mind steadied, solid ground rising beneath his feet, his bastion surrounding him. The scraping of beasts in the dark water receded, the voice of failure pushed down and away.
I can do this.
Then again, maybe I could train a little more...
Felix gave up on the idea before he so much as sat up. He was beat. He might need a few more Skill levels, but he needed sleep too. They had a scant few hours before the assault. Enough time to rest, prepare, and then go. No more training. No more time.
Was he strong enough?
He considered his stats, his Skills. Many were close to Apprentice Tier, which would likely grant him a big stat boost; but he still felt that reluctance in his gut toward using the Iron Essences. It didn't make sense, but it was there, gnawing at him. Grunting and mentally shaking himself, Felix resolved to use them as it was pure stupidity otherwise. The way Harn and the others spoke of Tempering sounded like it was an all new echelon of strength; it should help him more than simply raising a few Skills to Apprentice Tier. His spells were closest to ranking up, he could almost feel it, so he planned to use his Wandering Spirit Essence Draught the moment he crossed the threshold.
Tomorrow they assaulted the giants. Tomorrow they would save the prisoners. Tomorrow they would win.
He closed his eyes, finally letting himself drift off.
In the cold, weeping fog, Illia prowled.
She had taken to following the various Risi patrols as they looped through the city ruins, each one moving stiffly yet untiringly across the large metropolitan area. As far as Illia could suss out, this ancient city was easily larger than Setoria, and undoubtedly filled with precious artifacts. It was enough that she was almost tempted to abandon her contract. Almost. But then, the fog occluded all and even if she had the Skills of a treasure hunter she'd need to be damn close to use it in all this murk.
So she shadowed them, the giants unable to see beyond the fog and her Cowl. Not that they even tried. Someone in camp was puppeting the warriors, moving them with magic strings. They could only stare ahead and report until their patrol ended.
Blood magic. Illia frowned. The Risi are dabbling in dark things indeed.
It did not change her mission however.
She had howled in rage when the Guilders had slipped once more from her grasp. Somehow she had lost them during their latest escape. Illia had known they were in the eastern portion of the city, but those damn wardstones hampered her senses. With the addition of the night-cursed fog, it was only blind luck and her Brightsense Body that let her see Harn slipping through the streets.
The man was fast enough for someone his size, but no match for Illia. She duplicated his pace, stride for stride, watching him scout the giant's encampment. Moreover, she observed him return east, back toward the tall towers that dominated the higher elevated portions of the city.
She had guessed at their plans, but now she knew for certain. They intended to mount a rescue.
Foolish. Even for two Silver Ranks, facing even two dozen of these giants would spell their end. She didn't know their timetable, but with the rate the prisoners were dying, she assumed they would do it soon. She was betting on today.
The sky was still dark as she paced along the crumbling roof top, and she felt herself flagging. The sun was a little over an hour from rising, and the Guilders could show up at any moment. Illia slugged back another cloudy potion and perked right up, feeling the effects immediately. The expensive things improved alertness and bumped up her Perception by 2% for four hours. They had the drawback of being addictive, but that was why she had brought a whole stack of them. They were indispensable on long watches.
Off in the distance, just at the edge of her new Perception, she saw the dull flash of steel armor and a faint, far off crunch.
The Shieldwitch and her charges were coming to her.
This time, she'd be ready.