The tower had many names amongst those that have lived and continue to live in Finick's Bay, such as Diablo and Hothhorne. But most simply call it Gholroc's tower, named after the devouring serpent. But towers aren't as interesting as many of their names. They're really just giant planetary mana vents. Their purpose is to shed off the excess magic thats created inside the world---of which there is much.

That didn't mean they posed an insignificant danger. Quite the opposite, in fact. Towers are often the worst nightmares of all who live near them, yet at the same time are often their livelihood. The towers by themselves aren't the issue. The problem arises when mana of almost unimaginable density, meant to be spread across a vast world, is funneled to a singular point. It is enough to create something akin to quasi-life. On incredibly rare occasions, the monsters formed from this magic inside the towers get out, this wasn't always a bad thing, however.

Usually, if a monster got out, it meant that they had become intelligent and self away enough to realize where they were, and how to leave. Some of the creatures the towers create are ones that live outside, but don't have the same level of intelligence. Not only are they driven to madness by the towers, but they're no different than newborn children. They have no clue who they are, or why they exist at the moment they do, and often times they lack the capability to grow from this stage.

This is why almost no effort is put into helping them, the cost to effect is simply too high. When a hundred die just to save one monster, it's not worth it. But sometimes, monsters either are born with or obtain the ability to grow mentally. These are the ones that break out of the tower, although that takes years. When this happens, if the city around the tower is lucky enough, the exit they make will seal in only minutes. For those who are unlucky, the mindless monsters will find the hole and will keep it open with sheer numbers. These tragedies are called floods and kill thousands whenever they happen.

Tay had never seen a flood, and very much wished to keep it that way. The city of Finick's Bay has only ever had one, thirty years ago. It's the reason the walls were built, not to keep things out, but rather, in. The city itself held off the attack quite well. The dozens of towns and settlements around the city weren't as fortunate. The end result was worse than if it was only the city that was slaughtered.

From that day on, all cities or settlements built around towers in the nation of Abrimson were required, by law to have restrictive walls built around them. Tay learned much of his homes history from his parents. That was really the only thing he remembered of them, Everything else was made blurry by the 11 years since their deaths.

Tay grunted as his mind was flooded with thoughts from the tower as he walked through its entrance. It was almost like looking at a schematic of the tower inside his brain. This system that all towers had is called the "elevator," and is the only safe way to move up them. He focused on the first floor that the schematic showed him, and he felt his body being moved. He arrived inside the familiar damp stone tunnels, the same place he arrived three days ago. Signs of other travelers were scattered around, mainly in the form of beacons that allowed near-instant teleportation down the tower. They had several flaws, of course. They couldn't take people up, and could only be activated by specific, long-range communication spells that often took all of the caster's concentration to do. They were also expensive, costing more gold than Tay had seen in his whole life.

But even with their considerable downsides, they could prove useful in a pinch. If a team or individual found themselves in a tough spot, they could hide and escape. It wasn't something Tay would be getting any time soon. He began his track through the maze of tunnels, following the official golden marks that the association made for their adventurers. He found many Fey bodies dissolving into their basic parts along the way that people left behind, probably hunting bigger prey. Tay's mission outlines only said that he needed to reach the fifth floor, so taking level 1 materials would be a poor use for the little space he had.

He eventually branched from the main path and followed the same one he used before. He quickly found the same wide area he almost died in and a new horde of Fey. He glanced at his familiar floating steadily beside him. He felt inside the being and found that it was eager to fight. But it was odd, he felt something else, too. It was faint, like a whisper in a forest. Worry?

He dismissed it, he didn't need to be distracted, and he knew it would do its job. He activated "stoke" and leaped toward the closest monster. He found it's right shoulder and made a downward path to its left hip. The heated blade made quick work of it and the monster fell in two. He heard the wailing screams of a duo of Fey as Orby used "eruption," and roasted them alive.

The Fey were active now and were searching for the invaders, their crown of grotesque, glowing-tipped tentacles moving through the air, sensing Tay and his companion. Tay let out a roar as he let his body run wild. His legs drew him towards the monster's stride after thundering stride. His boots pounded hard on the stone floor, sounding like tremendous echoing drums through the chamber.

He cut down another one, anger flooded his mind. He saw a flash of movement to his left and flung a closed fist out wildly, backhanded the faceless monster, sending it tumbling across the ground. A lone tear dripped from his eye as he kicked a Fey in the chest, the soul of his boots making a permanent indent. He looked around for more, for anything to kill, but found the cave lacking. He straightened, his mind clearing as his anger faded.

He spun around as he heard another battle. Orby! He had forgotten about his Spirit. His familiar was darting around seven little four-foot monsters, their claws cutting the air behind him wildly as they jumped. Orby's form was less than half the size it should have been and was getting smaller as it continued to fire a wide spray of flame at the creatures. Tay dashed forward to help his familiar, clashing with two of the Fey. He felt one of their claws connect with his leg, ripping a chunk of muscle from it. He blocked the attack from its friend and punted the other one. He crashed into a half-burnt Fey crawling away from the battle, knocking them both out.

Orby zoomed away from Tay after two other Fey brought their attention to him. The Spirit focused its beam, burning away at one of the monster's crowns. It fell to the floor after a few seconds of him circling over its head.

Tay put more mana into his sword, the blade almost glowing in response. He cleaved through two at once, leaving only one left. Orby flashed towards Tay, becoming the size of a large fist in the process. Two Fey followed him in a line. Tay smirked as he got an idea. Quickly dismembering his opponents, he picked it up and ran to the oncoming enemies. With one motion, he thrust his blade into the Fey in his grasp and then flung it forward, the limp body crashing into its comrades, allowing the sword to pierce the chest of the second, and the head of the third.

They fell to the ground with a wet thud and laid lifeless as their blood seeped from their bodies. Tay let out a choking breath as he fell on his back, sword clanging to the ground out of his grip. He let his head lul back, slowly flexing it to either side. Orby floated nearer. Its body was so small, and the flames looked weak like they were about to fade completely. He thought that it might have been staring at him as It stayed still for almost a full minute. Then, without warning, it let out a burst of fire. It licked almost harmlessly against Tay's chest, but it was enough to make him be taken aback.

"What?" He asked defensively. It didn't reply. "Look, I'm sorry for forgetting about you. I promise it won't happen again." His head fell. "I just... got caught up in some emotions, you know?" He asked hopefully. He was answered by another whisp of flame, followed by a word reverberating in his mind. "Fuel." It said. Tay could have sworn it sounded almost angry. Then he realized what it meant.

He sank into himself, into the pool of power. He found the summoning spell and a thread that attached it to something. He floated above the pool and looked out where the cord went. All he saw was a deep darkness, the cord eventually fading into it. He thought for a moment and descended back into the mana. He let his consciousness drift into the spell and found that it was almost completely drained of mana. He let his own depleted reserve flow into it like a dam opening.

His spells looked almost identical to gold coins from Abrimson with unique symbols on them. His "stoke" spell for example had the image of a single straight line bisected three-quarters of the way down by a shorter line. His summons spell had a single spark of fire like that of a candle. When he opened his magic to it, it filled with a liquid fire. The cord that was strung from it glowed, and Tay came back to his senses.

Orby, now the size of a small melon, floated around him in a wide, almost guarding-like arc. He found that he was lying on the ground and that he had been for quite a while. He sat up stiffly, his back like a plank of wood. His familiar slowly hovered nearer to him, its flames were back to their normal calm fluctuations.

"How long have I been out?" He asked Orby. Silence. "That long, aye?" He said as if he had gotten an answer. He removed the spacial bag from his belt and pulled out another, smaller bag. Inside it was all the resources he had bought earlier in the day. He first removed the H-tape, placing it beside him, and then took out a bag of food. He went to the association's inn where he was taken care of after his first stint in the tower, and got something to eat. However, in hindsight, Tay might have brought more...

He removed his pants, leaving only his undergarments to keep his dignity. The wound on the front of his leg had turned a concerning shade of green around the edges, and had white puss coming from the wound itself. He hated to use the alcohol he brought on something as small as it really was, but he knew the H-tape wouldn't be enough on its own, and he needed to wait to use his vial of healing for the higher floors.

The alcohol stung badly, and the H-tape afterward was almost as bad. He had eaten a full loaf of bread and a whole bar of condensed meat. 20 percent of his food...he really needed to ration himself.