Reuben Frost

He whistled and twirled his mace as everyone headed back the way they had come. The scout kept the blunt weapon out in case there were more birds. Being pierced by the stiletto-like beaks was not a pleasant experience. Climbing trees had called a whole flock down and ditching the daggers for that fight had been key. Bashing the feathered fiends out of the air had been very satisfying as well as effective.

Amazing how fast an hour can spin away, thought Reuben. His eyes roved over their surroundings. After the first floor, the second floor was much more to his liking. Almost felt like being outdoors if you kept your eyes away from the borders and pretended to be a little dumb. Regardless, a nice change. It was nice that the ground was soft due to soil rather than packed down filth. The air was infinitely more breathable, a sweet difference.

So the scout enjoyed the stroll.

Their route atop the plateau proved an easy one. Unless one provoked attention, the beasts of the forest seemed rather passive. He knew manhandling a tree for climbing brought their ire, but the question in his mind was: would walking into those shady depths do the same? It was likely Phelain’s party would bring an answer since their route had less reason to backtrack the same way they came.

Reuben was eager to explore the floor on his own. Safety in numbers was nice, but he still preferred to take a look around alone. A state and habit the scout was long comfortable with. Porsha and Francisco wouldn’t be a bother though. The three of them had a shared silence that gave the benefits of companionship while feeling like you were foraging on your own. He enjoyed their relationship. The two of them learned earnestly too. Another factor in their favor.

After the Sixty finished their first outing here, he would hang back and take a personal stroll. If this first hour was any indication, then there was still a lot of ground to cover. Plenty of gaps to entertain Reuben and allow him to be useful. This was how the scout generally went about things. Did a little forward scouting before the Sixty came in and then double-checked the ground covered. Most things were worth a second look. Plus it was fulfilling to play the role. Mana was an extra treat, enhancing his talents and well-earned skills. The urge to slip into the shadows was always a strong one. He enjoyed feeling the Mana of his Form thrumming with intent.

It was interesting to watch Molly’s teamwork. There was a professionalism cooked into its very being that appealed to his own experiences. Formed less than a week ago and the party already was tuned to perfection. As a scout, he hadn’t really been part of any group. A passing outsider. Such a thing gave a watchful person a lot of insight that those within would be unable to see. This meant, in Rueben’s opinion, that he had the best understanding of how the parties of the Sixty worked.

Being assigned to support the new party allowed him to evaluate their current and potential integrity. No doubt Malachi would engage him for a private talk on the subject. His report would be glowing. The party members of the acolyte of curses moved with purpose. Aggressively, never hesitantly. Showing off how well drilled they were in the methods to travel through unknown territory. The few threats to make their appearance had been swiftly taken care of. Molly only had to speak code phrases for them all to enact a prearranged gambit. Personal ones, not those all of the Sixty knew. The team may not have a strong defense, but their strategies made up for it.

Their control of the battlefield was tight.

All of it was a testament to the cool-eyed woman’s passionate sense of order. Reuben thought this must be Molly’s true calling. He couldn’t guess what her life had been like in the Before, but the scout imagined its potential was lessened by unfortunate anxiety. The whole thing piqued his curiosity enough to make a personal note to approach the woman about her past. At some point when an opportunity arose and the asking would be a smooth thing.

The nature of the other established parties was not less effective in Rueben’s eyes, but definitely reflected the different styles of their leaders. Even though Malachi was basically the king of the Sixty, the man led his party as only the charismatic lead of a friend group. He made decisions respectfully and tailored to his teammates. Rarely making any commands. Resulting in less order, but more organic responses due to high morale. There was a strong empathic link that the scout had felt himself get caught up in at times. When that party made a move, they did it wholly together.

Warner’s leadership felt almost like a peek into the past. A warlord and his loyal retainers. His word was their command and they were ecstatic to follow through. Where Malachi’s charisma was a soft power, the brawler’s was classic and loud. A hero inspiring the charge. Clever enough to keep everyone alive as they sallied forth through one danger or another. Overwhelming confidence that made his competence almost a lesser aspect of him.

Or did, reflected Rueben. Warner hasn’t been quite the same since his misstep.

There was a jerkiness to the big man now. They would begin rolling forward in their larger-than-life style, but something would cross their face. Horror or fear, forcing the breaks. Overcautious behaviors where once Warner had always been overconfident. The man’s personality seemed stunted by the shadow of doubt. It was a change that felt wrong as if a natural law was out of whack.

Reuben hoped the big man would pull himself through. The brawler had a good and stout heart.

Rodrick’s team was a mystery to him. There was a little of a mix of Malachi’s and Warner’s party in them. The “Coward’s Club” was a tight-knit group that functioned well and appeared to be at the laughing fellow’s beck and call. In their eyes was a tint of madness. The kind you saw in people who risked danger despite their fears. The scout hoped it would play out well, but a soul could snap for less than The Pit threw at the Sixty. And that was just so far.

He wasn’t willing to label them temporary nor unproven. Once the weakest, Roderick had led his people to victory against the Pale One. That couldn’t have just been Zariah Graves’s good influence. Her power wasn’t as unbalanced as Damien’s potential for force multiplying. Those once cowards must have something to them. When all together at least.

Reuben shelved his contemplations as they arrived at the stairs that went down to the river. Weathered, but more solid than you would expect anciently carved limestone. He suspected Mana, but was that really a guess? From there it was a short walk to the clearing held by the Coward’s Club. The two parties merged into one crowd once on the path along the water.

They were the last half to arrive as the parties of Warner and Phelian had already arrived. There was a relaxed atmosphere, some took a seat on the flat rock or a welcoming boulder. An ease to their stances that spoke of comfortableness in their environment without sacrificing alertness. Everyone kept one eye roving for danger. Most of that attention was on the river. Reuben saw these signs as evidence that the Sixty had accepted their new life. One month in a monster-filled dungeon and a new normal had asserted itself.

He didn’t wonder at the change. It wasn’t sudden. One could argue that the second floor was simply more inviting than the first, but the scout thought that that was less of a factor than could be assumed. The open-air helps no doubt. To him, the truth was just simply that the first month had reforged them surprisingly well. They still had many of the trappings of their modern life, yet their everyday life was decidedly altered. The Sixty accepted this.

It is interesting what a human being can get used to, reflected Reuben.

With no discussion, everyone in the stone clearing split up into two groups upon everyone’s arrival. Leaders and scouts took a position in the center and the rest spread loosely around them. Not quite guarding, but not just taking a break while the next move was decided. Reuben noted Allen making his way directly to Damien. The two of them fell into whispers.

He was curious at the urgency, but Malachi brought his attention back by beginning the meeting.

“Glad to see everyone made it back in one piece,” greeted Malachi. His tone was light, but those eyes were serious. “So, what did everyone see?”

Always the eager one, Phelain replied first, “The variety of monsters is definitely much higher on this floor. My party ran into two new monster types. Blue birds with sword beaks and some scale-plated badgers.”

“Sounds like a treat,” noted Warner with a grin. To the group, he added, “We only dealt with more otters. Found their den and a swarm of those wriggling bastards. O’ lizards too, but they’re barely a note, to be honest.”

“We had an encounter with the bird monsters as well,” said Molly. “Those blue ones and then some large white ones. Malachi’s party did most of the engaging with the big ones.”

“The river led to a waterfall and a Niagara Falls-like cliff curve,” explained Malachi. “The white birds have made their homes in the rock of the cliffs. Be careful of them when you're near the edge. Which is a perfect segue into the terrain.”

Surprised, Phelain asked, “Shouldn’t we discuss the monsters more? Like details and tactics?”

“We’ll get back to them, I’m more interested in our surroundings at the moment,” replied the leader of the Sixty. “The tunnels of the first floor made it pretty clear what we needed to do. Go forward, slay monsters. Things are already less simple here.”

The arisen warrior nodded thoughtfully before outlining what his party had come across. Reuben listened with one ear to see how it compared to his own observations. They trampled the same area, only in different directions. Nothing appeared different, but hearing about Allen’s thoughts on the high chance of cultivation being done to the forest was interesting. The spacing had felt unnatural to him.

As Phelain petered out, Warner took up the thread. The big man’s party had less to say, but was substantially more productive. Their straight shot led them to some stairs and perhaps more importantly a clue.

“Hmm, “A king can slumber under the mightiest roar,”” murmured Malachi. “Is that a challenge or is that a clue? Maybe a reference? I hope not…”

“What’s wrong with it being a reference?” asked Phelian.

Reuben wasn’t surprised to see Molly had already picked up the implication when she answered, “A reference is a concern because we know nothing about the people who built The Pit. Their culture is completely unknown. This phrase could be from a holy book and if the context is important we may never understand what the clue meant. We must hope that even if it is a reference, that the meaning is self-evidendent from the words themselves as well.”

“I don’t know myself,” admitted Warner to keep the conversation on topic. “But, it was placed right where you’d find it walking down that path. No way to miss it. Be strange if the words didn’t mean something about this floor.”

“A roar,” spoke Reuben as he considered himself. There wasn’t much information to guess with yet. Only one thing came to mind related to this floor. “Could they be referencing the waterfalls? Or at least drawing our attention to them?”

“They do “roar,” but what do waterfalls have to do with kings?” frowned Malachi. “Well, maybe we’ll find more clues along the way. My turn to spill.”

For this part, the scout did tune out completely. He had been there, no chance of new information. Instead, Reuben thought more about kings and waterfalls. As the sword acolyte’s report came to a close all he had dredged up was King Arthur tales that dealt with the Lady of the Lake. Which likely wasn’t any help in this new world.

“It was an impressive sight I’m sure you will agree once you see,” finished Malachi. “Scouts, do any of you have any comments on the terrain?”

Reuben shook his head. At the moment he didn’t have anything to add. After today’s expedition, the scout might have something to say after his own adventure. He needed the time to vet some thoughts and concerns with his own eyes. Make sure nothing was missed and take a look at what’s ahead of where they stop. By the look on the face of the leader of the Sixty, the man knew a report would come later.

Attention shifted to his two apprentices. Francisco passed as well, but Porsha had a few words for them. That didn’t surprise Reuben much. Porsha was the one with the better eyes and the knack for scouting. Francisco’s finesse with cloaking was very good. The man could get the job done, but combat was more aligned with his student’s talents.

Being attached to Warner’s group, she had taken a look up the stairs behind the waterfall. Porsha said, “I thought the mist from the waterfall was just drifting farther for some reason, but the forest on the next plateau is covered in a fog. The edges look pretty clear or it would have been obvious from here. Past the first few trees, the visibility is zero. At least from a distance.”

Before she went quiet, a final bit was added. “A small note, the border wall upstream is very flat despite the dome shape of the rest of the floor. Not sure if that means anything. Might have just made it easier to have those waterfalls that feed the rivers.”

“Thank you,” said Malachi, nodding to Porsha. “Roderick, you’ve been quiet. I know you’ve only been holding this clearing, but do you have anything to add?”

“Yeah, I got something,” began Roderick. “This isn’t from me though, Lamar said that the rock formations here are real. Turns out he is a rock hound, a geologist to boot. So, by real he means that after poking around, there didn’t seem to be any difference between this and similar environments back home. Obviously, we’re underground, who knows how far down, in a man-made biosphere, but this isn’t a zoo enclosure made to look like some habit. It's more real than decorative concrete. Whatever all of that means. I don’t know, but seemed interesting to me.”

“Hmm, that is interesting,” agreed Malachi. “The easy answer is magic, but who knows how? Just among the sixty of us, Mana offers a whole lot of variety. That’s just affinity alone.”

“Does it matter?” asked Warner politely. Reuben admitted one positive change in the brawler was his conversational skills had risen a lot in the last week. Respectful.

“Maybe, maybe not,” offered Reuben. “New information is always nice. This has some implications. Not just on the maker’s skills, but also their drive for authenticity. In this case, it might be in relation to those trees if this is some sort of orchard as Allen believes.”

“Isn’t this place supposed to be a trial for raising fighters?” frowned Warner. “Braves or whatever?

Apprehension flashed across Molly’s face. “That’s what it is now… but in that same speech, it was mentioned it was originally a place for research. At least you can infer that from the use of “experiments.””

“Right,” mumbled the brawler.

Reuben felt the same discomfort as the two of them and everyone else. The conversation had veered too close to what no one really wanted to talk about. Wanting to separate himself, the scout looked away and caught himself on Harken’s stare. The priestly man stood nearby in listening distance with a hopeful look. Soon as Malachi brought the talk back on track that hope faded.

“Things to think on, for sure,” the leader of the Sixty said briskly. “That’s the lay of the land. Phelain, give me the details on your fight now. Looks like we're leaving the river behind for the forest.” Talk turned to the new monsters. Speaking of the signs of cooperation across species and tactics they showed beyond mad charges. Both major differences in their experiences with the Ratsins. Those abominations attacked and killed each other. Only the tyrannical Titan showed anything more than animal instinct.

From there the meeting focused on monster attributes and effective responses. It spiraled around theories and advice until there was little anyone had to add. Everyone was informed of the known threats. Reuben looked down in satisfaction at his notes. Basic monster profiles would be very useful during his scouting missions. Made avoiding attention a little easier when he knew what to expect. It also gave him a good foundation to build on when creating his own profiles to spread amongst the Sixty.

“Here’s the plan,” began Malachi, after thinking quietly. “We’re all going to head upstream and take the stairs behind the falls. From there we split up again for another hour. Phelian’s party will follow the border wall, and Warner, take yours along this river atop the cliff. Downstream this time. Molly, you and yours are going to stick with my party. We’re going to cut through the middle of the woods. Based off what I saw from the edge of that big cliff, there is another river on the other side of this plateau. No one crosses it if they find a way. Just explore that one. One hour and we’ll head back to the stairs. Roderick, as you may have guessed, I want your team atop the stairs. Keep the gathering point clear again.”

Molly nodded coolly, a flash in her eyes told Reuben that she likely wanted her chance to go it alone. Not happy, but logical enough to accept. Warner simply accepted. It was Phelian that questioned, “Are we not going to be more um “thorough” on this of the river? There’s a whole corner we didn’t set foot on at all.”

“No, it’ll get done later,” replied Malachi, his eyes flickering knowingly to the scout. “The writing behind the falls suggests to me that pushing forward would be more fruitful. Besides, we have a handle on these new monsters. I don’t see a reason to crawl just yet.”

The meeting came to a close and the leaders returned to their parties. Four new meetings came to life as information was passed down. Soon after the leaders had their chance to rest, the Sixty marched out again.