Tower of Stone

Tower of Stone

                Climbing the tower had not been one of Dytja's better ideas.

                She had expected that - given her physiology - that she would be able to make it to the top with ease. Sure, the tower pierced through the cloud line, but it couldn't be too high, right?

                The tower was easily five kilometres tall. The cloud line, a mere kilometre above the ground had hidden most of it when Dytja was considering her climb.

                Damn them and their ridiculous technology, Dytja thought. She referred to the core of the tower - an incredibly long deep-mining drill, that had been used to drill huge boreholes down to the magma below (which was utilised as a source of various peculiar materials that were rare within the earth). The active facilities had been shut down, and the drills had been dug into the ground one final time, then abandoned.

                She had found all this out before climbing the tower, but as the controls and readouts were all smashed she had been unable to discover how high it had been raised. As she clung to a stone arm roughly four kilometres above the ground, with at least another kilometre of tower above her, she somewhat regretted not taking the time to figure out more.

                Whoever had built the 'Tower of Stone' had several interesting abilities. Firstly, they had managed to take control of the drill, and had slowly been raising it from the ground. Secondly, they were able to turn non-living material (and supposedly living as well) into stone.

                The combination of the first two had led to the tower. Combining human bodies turned to stone with the capabilities of the drill (which was able to lock material in place radially around it) they had created a tower of stone 'statues' (each made from a corpse) that stretched thousands of metres tall - without the statues breaking under the strain. It was all really held up by the drill, but the effect was... Impressive. And terrifying enough for the locals that they had blindly worshipped - and supplied sacrifices - to whoever sat atop the tower for millennia.

                Legend told of the being only vaguely. The 'origin' of the tower had been lost to time, but there had been other encounters - each occurring whenever the locals ceased delivering bodies to the tower, or when they delivered too few. In each instance, the creature would appear - or in one legend, leap down from the tower - and gather up the locals, demanding to know why the bodies had ceased. Those who resisted would be turned to stone in a flash - though, legends noted, it seemed to tire the creature.

                Even if tired, however, the creature was invulnerable to the weapons used to attack it (whatever the locals had, which was little). When angered, it would turn the clothes and weapons of all attackers to stone, removing them from the fight. Pleas for mercy were granted - so long as the people once again promised to grant the bodies of their dead to its tower.

                Descriptions of the creature varied. It was always vaguely humanoid in form, roughly three metres tall and apparently made of living stone. Sometimes it had vague features or strange proportions, other times it was perfectly smooth and sensibly formed. Also varying was the creature's colour - the type of rock it was made from was different during each visit.

                A long time ago, wandering heroes - much like Dytja - had climbed the tower. Some had fallen off, and the rest had never been seen again. In time, however, it had risen too high - only a handful had disappeared in the last millennia; the rest either falling or returning, having given up.

                Dytja had asked the locals to cease depositing bodies around the tower in an attempt to avoid the climb, but they had refused. I should have just burnt the bodies myself, or perhaps broken some of these statues, she thought to herself grumpily.

                She continued climbing, but not much further up tiredness got the better of her. She tied herself to a couple of statues and drifted off to sleep.

                Four hours later she awoke, completely refreshed. To the west, the sun was rising into the sky. After a mumbled, incoherent yawn she untied herself and began the last leg of her climb. It was strange to climb so many unique statues - each looked different from the next. Some had their arms and legs bent to fit into their rows; others were stretched out as tall as they could be to graps the feet of those above them. Their clothes varied less, although it was a strange glimpse into the changing styles worn by the region as Dytja ascended - and at one point, what seemed to be a complete change of culture entirely.

                The most intriguing thing that Dytja noticed was the changes in the type of rock used to create each row. The number of rows was not constant, but seemed to be decreasing with time - Dytja guessed it was due to the number of bodies brought to the tower. Also interesting was that the change did not occur mid-row; it instead seemed to occur between rows.

                It probably has something to do with the changing form of the creature, Dytja thought to herself. I wonder if I can get it to tell me why, or how, it changes...

                The remaining two kilometres of Dytja's climb passed in a blur of grabbing stone limbs and hauling herself up. Conveniently - although likely for some kind of 'neatness' - the statues extended out to the edge of the drill's flat top, and Dytja was able to clamber up.

                What she saw was both very interesting, and disturbingly macabre. The top of the drill was about fifty metres across and circular, and that fifty metres had been mostly filled by a building made out of interlocked 'statues'. And around it stood dozens of statues that were different from all those Dytja had seen so far - unlike the rest, they had not been dead when they were turned to stone. They stood in varying poses - battle readiness, shock at being spotted, or even attempting to flee with fear on their faces.

                A grisly garden of those who had come before Dytja to stop the creature. I do hope I won't be joining them, thought Dytja.

                The structure had a large opening - it had probably been impractical to make a door out of stone bodies alone - that Dytja walked through. Inside, she discovered something strange. Perhaps eighty crude stone statues, of different stone types and each vaguely approximating human form stood inside. They stood perfectly still despite Dytja's presence.

                Dytja moved closer to one to examine it, and discovered something very curious. The belly of the statue she examined - and a quick glance confirmed, most of the others as well - had been cracked open, revealing a hollow space inside.

                Intriguing, thought Dytja, making her way through the statues towards the centre of the structure, but where is the creature?

                "I suppose you are looking for me?" came a rumbling voice. Dytja was immediately able to pinpoint the source - a statue that stood slightly smaller than the rest, right in the centre of the room (and also at the centre of the drill). It seemed to be made of smooth granite, like the statues at the base of the tower, and had symmetrical but blatantly inhuman proportions - overly long arms, legs reaching too wide, and a disproportionately large, smooth head.

                "Yes," said Dytja, walking forwards. "I've come to ask you to stop this... Demand that the villagers below give you their dead."

                "Of course you are. I still don't understand why they think burying or burning their dead is any better than letting me make use of them - it's a waste of useful material and they should be pleased to help one such as I! So, as I have said to many, no," the creature replied.

                "I'm not giving you a choice," said Dytja, advancing on the creature.

                "Another mortal hero come to give me my due, haha! I only let you speak because you are the first I have seen make it up here in a very long time, girl, and I was wondering how you did it. Tell me, and I might spare you," the creature asked.

                Dytja smiled, and said, "You've spent too long alone up here. And - well, I will answer your question if you answer one of mine. How do you change form? I assume that these all" - Dytja indicated the statues - "were once you."

                "Hahaha, very well, mortal. I am reborn every hundred years. Within each form I possess, a new one grows. When the form inside begins to grow a new form in turn, I shed the old - you can see the size my forms grow to before I shed them. The forms inside are as large as the hollows that I am sure you noticed. Your turn," said the creature.

                "I'm not human," replied Dytja, suddenly breaking into a charge at the creature.

                "Re - what!" yelled the creature. As Dytja rushed towards it, it lowered its arms towards her and began chanting something she did not recognise.

                With Dytja only moments away, the creature finished its chanting with a soft 'hah' sound. "WHAT?" hollered the creature, its smooth face cracking in sheer shock.

                With a wicked, vicious smile Dytja leapt at the creature and swung her sword into it. A dreadful rending sound - metal carving through rock - echoed out through the structure, and was followed by a pained scream from the creature as it stumbled backwards.

                "HOW?" whined the creature loudly, backing away from Dytja.

                "Would you care to reconsider my demands?" asked Dytja, advancing on the creature with her sword out.

                "I don't know how your blade can cut through solid rock with ease, nor why I cannot turn you to stone, but I am not defeated yet!" yelled the creature, one stony hand upon its wound.

                Cracking sounds began to come from behind Dytja - like old bones being used for the first time in an age. She turned around and saw the other statues, the old forms of the creature, starting to move. This is getting interesting, she thought.

                The statues moved haphazardly, as if animated only by the memory of intelligence. "Time to die, hero!" gloated the creature.

                This critter is just... It couldn't be anymore 'arrogant and getting just desserts' if it tried, Dytja thought to herself, as she engaged the closest statue. It swung a clumsy fist at her which she easily dodged. In return, she lashed out with her sword and cut the offending arm off with a single stroke. The old form was significantly softer than the creature's current one - despite the older form seemingly being made of a far stronger type of rock.

                A second slash sent the head of the statue tumbling to the ground, and seemed to end its 'life'. Yet in the short time it had taken Dytja to defeat that single statue, the others had almost encircled her, and were drawing close...

                But they were no match for Dytja. Their size - roughly three metres tall and mostly bulky - kept more than a couple from engaging Dytja at once, and they were far too clumsy to hit a warrior of Dytja's skill and grace. In the background the creature itself continued to crow about its victory, laughing and claiming that Dytja was inevitably getting pounded to death.

                The scream it let out when Dytja ran and leapt over the outermost statues was incredibly undignified - and immediately after it attempted to flee. Dytja ran after it, wondering if there was a hidden back entrance to the structure (there seemed to be no entrances other than the front, and the creature was running directly away from it).

                It turned out that there was no back entrance - the creature ran into, and through, the wall, shattering a dozen statues into shards. Dytja followed it through, easily gaining ground on the creature and leaving the clumsy, lumbering statues behind.

                As the creature bolted for the edge of the drill, Dytja continued to gain on it. She caught up just as it reached the edge of the drill's top - and she sliced it from head to toe with a great, grinding slash.

                Damn it! thought Dytja, immediately realising what the creature had done. The cut had been easier - far easier - than she expected. As the two halves of the creature toppled forward, Dytja looked down between them and spotted a small statue - the new, premature form of the creature - falling down the side of the tower. Dytja, of course, jumped after it.

                Stretching herself into a dive, she shot down after the creature. Unfortunately the terrified creature turned around and spotted her - and rapidly punched a series of buttons on a control it seemed to pull out of nowhere. The creature suddenly stopped falling, and Dytja was moving so fast that she flew by it in an instant.

                But an instant was enough time for her sword to flash out and cut the creature in half for a second time. If it said anything as it died, Dytja did not hear it above the sound of the wind rushing past her ears.

                With the creature dead, Dytja jammed her sword into the side of the tower. She tore through row after row of statues as she slowed down, mangling them beyond recognition with her blade. Eventually, however, her sword stopped moving - halfway through the torso of a particularly portly gentleman.

                I am never, ever doing that again, Dytja thought to herself. I've got to find some kind of equivalent of a gun.

                With the creature dead, Dytja only had a couple of things left to do. First, she climbed her way back to where she had slain the creature and took the remote from it; then (after a bit of fiddling - the creature had added notes in its own language over the original instructions, making it hard to read) released the creature to fall to the ground below.

                After she made her way down, she did the second thing: she gathered the locals, showed them the dead (and shattered) creature, told them what she had done, and handed the remote over after explaining its use.

                Then she did the third, and final thing - walking off into the sunset.