Framework of the Frontier, Sain Artwell [read me a book .TXT] 📗

He drew the falchion and slashed blindly at the web. Tension snapped. William fell on his ass. Curses flew off his tongue as he tore the freezing goop off his face, leaving behind patches of raw throbbing skin. “Oww… Fuck, that burns!”

“Nobody step over the edge,” Orien shouted.

“Let me help. Water, water…” Ember’s voice sounded panicked as she began rummaging her bag.

“Allow me.” Rulu licked his face with her prehensile tongue. The pleasantly warm slimy mucus felt like liquid pleasure on the frost burns.

William suppressed a deep groan. “Tell me I still have eyebrows left.”

“Yeth…” Rulu plucked hairs from her tongue and placed them on his forehead. “Your face fur is mostly unharmed.”

“Thank the realms. You gave me a scare there.” Ember hugged him and gave his slimy cheek a quick peck.

William gave both of them an appreciative pats on the butts.

Trotto picked up a piece of fallen webbing and drew a sniff. “The smell is… Hmm, sort of gummy slimy.”

“Slime!” Ember’s voice hastened with excitement. “That would make sense. These filaments are the veins and nerves, which, under normal circumstances are hidden within a slime. It could be an undead slime perhaps or some strange sub-species. If so, it should respond to sound. Could someone test it?”

Raneign put her hand over the railing. She snapped her fingers and pulled it backwards amazingly quickly. Strands of steaming icy webbing shot through the air that her hand had occupied. Missing the elf, they fell down into the crevasse.

Trotto whistled. “That’s gonna be a pain to cross. Were there any good detours?”

“Not unless you wanna brave a nest of acid slugs,” Eren said.

“So it attacks sound and can be cut.” William said slowly, looking around the ledge for ideas.

The pale mist drifted over their feet. In its flow scurried weird mutant slugs, shifting their fluffy antennae in the unseen flow. Around them arose twisting structures covered in statues and exorbitant detail that would’ve made Notre-Dame blush. There were five pillars in particular, topped with statues of strange monsters, which caught William’s eye.

He nodded at the pillars, speaking to Orien. “Do you figure those are long enough to bridge the street? I could chop them down.”

“No need for you to waste your magic, Ranger.” Trotto patted his shoulder. “I’ve felled thicker things made of stuff sturdier than stone. Although, they’re scary close to the edge and the web.”

“They are…” Orien agreed, weighing the options.

“Curious, it possesses no echo in the Dreaming.” Rulu held her eyes closed and head pressed against the edge. “However, I can shield you from its attacks.”

“I’m hesitant to offer my hydromancy as a solution,” Duhie said. “If it freezes I won’t be able to recover the water.”

“Ye ye, let me think…” Orien paced with her arms crossed, scratching her chin.

William rummaged his bag, picking up the crystal with an ancient bardsong inside. “I have about three quarters of a plan, although, I kinda started to like the song in this. Du-du-du duu~”

“What’s the last quarter? Actually, what are the first three?” Orien asked.

He gave her the crystal. “This and bugs inside a sealed jar inside a helmet or something else sturdy. I’m hoping, if we lob it down there, it’ll keep the web busy for a while. I don’t have a helmet either, so donations are welcome if we decide to go with this.”

“Fine.” Trotto took off his battered and rusty kettle helm. “But, when we find helmets made in troll size, I get one.”

“Deal. Now we need a bug.”

They shoved a good two dozen non-magic eating bugs and the crystal in the jar that had contained moldy hard-tack. A hundred little legs danced on the item, playing the ancient song of jazz-pop-tribal-folk hybrid composed of a language and instruments William didn’t recognize. Trotto folded his hat around the jar for an extra layer of protection, sealing the music in metal.

William did the honors of tossing it over the edge.

Strings of white shot up, yanking the hat encrusted jar into the depths of the alley. Sounds of music muffled somewhat, but it kept on playing. When they dared to peek over, it seemed like the webs had withdrawn several dozen feet from the walls to form a large sticky cocoon over the trap.

“Yess,” Orien whispered. “Good thinking Ranger.”

“That’s the most expensive distraction I’ve seen,” Raneign said.

Orien patted her shoulder. “We’ll find better stuff deeper in, I’m sure. Get working on the bridge hun.”

Trotto got to pillar chopping, swinging the blunt end of his massive axe against the sheer rock. It was a slow going, so William ended up joining in from the other side. He worked up sweat clicking at the hard stone and watched the fractures grow, until eventually a large chip fell off. The pillar began to fall.

The statue of a hydra decorating the top slammed against the opposite side with a heavy thud. Webbing shot up to cling to its underside.

After crossing over, they continued, reaching the circle of pillars protruding from the center of the chamber’s bottom facet. Not an inch of stone remained visible under the garish layers of coral growths, which ranged from bulbous sponges the size of a Walmart landwhale to pencil sized metallic fingers glued together a primordial asymmetry of nature. A waist high stream of pale white vapors flowed past the temple’s pillars, spreading into the cityscape around them.

It was impossible to see past the thick mist pooled at the center. Schools of magic eating bugs and other critters swarmed within its swirls.

“Ember, you see anything?” William held the faun’s thighs on his shoulders to give her a better view.

“Nu-uh. The mist is too thick with magic for the Sorcerer’s Eye to penetrate.” She broke off a piece of stiff coral and threw it in the center.

It whumped into the mist, disappearing