The Wandering Spire

Jeze exited the tower and entered the large Guild compound courtyard. The crowds were forming with merchants setting up their stalls. Jeze circled the tower and entered the side where the obstacle course was stationed. A line of Prospects were waiting to be tested, and a few were inside the course.

"Hurry and continue on! If the Frostsworn found a Scout, then you will have to team with Drake. He will surely find ways to kill you," Ziplocke said.

"Right," Jeze replied.

She continued and ran past the obstacle course and came to an open space within the compound that she had never visited before. Jeze's eyes went wide at what she saw. The entire area was filled with groups of teams as they trained. Dotted across the flat plaza were merchant stalls that were different from the ones Jeze had seen. These sold padded training gear, dummies, weights, and recovery potions. All around, Jeze adventurers trained their bodies and skills. Men and women lifted and ran with heavy stones. People practiced their archery and Rune casting on wooden targets. Others sparred in large round circles. People ran, jumped, and climbed through various miniature obstacle courses. Adventurers of all ranks sweated, trained, and bled in this courtyard. Her last physical activity was the obstacle course she completed yesterday and Jeze felt her body becoming soft. She itched to train with the others.

"There they are!" Ziplocke pointed out the tall pale bodies of the Frostsworn. The Goblin muttered, "I can't believe I am helping you with this."

Jeze patted her companion on his small head and fed him a pepper. Ziplocke chewed on it enthusiastically like a chipmunk eating an acorn.

"I still want you to make the paste!" The Goblin snarled in between bites.

Jeze rolled her eyes. Her never-ending to-do list. She sprinted to the group of dozens of Frostsworn as they trained with each other as well as with Adventurers from other nations. Jeze ran past a giant bearded warrior from the cold north, wrestling with a full-bodied tattooed warrior from the Ironfist kingdom. The crowd consisted of adventurers from all nations who cheered the two combatants. Jeze located Carl Jorgenson as he coached warriors on the use of the ax and shield. The methods he instructed were similar to how Raynor had trained Jeze. Her eyes felt moist as she recalled her mentor and friend.

"Hello, Jeze," Jorgenson greeted without turning. The tall Frostsworn's focus was on his students.

"I'm here to train with Dunar and his team," Jeze said. She scanned the area and was unable to locate the familiar faces of the Frostsworn she ate with earlier.

"You wish to join as their Scout?" The Carl turned to face her.

"I do."

"You are too late."

"What?!?" Jeze's fears were realized, and her heart sank.

"As you told Dunar. There are many potential Scouts for them to choose from."

"But I fight in the ways of the Frostsworn," Jeze countered.

"That is true. Perhaps you can earn your way back?"

Jeze narrowed her eyes. "How?"

Jorgenson pointed ahead and said, "Dunar and team are running the perimeter of the compound and have a large head start over you. From here, you must go to the gate and follow the path of the setting sun to the west. Stick to the perimeter and do not deviate. My eyes are sharp, and I will know. If you beat them to me, then we will consider you…"

Jeze shot off like an arrow before the tall Frostsworn could finish. She ran so fast that Ziplocke fell off with a yelp. Carl grinned.

"You can wait safely with me, Demonling," the Carl said.

The Goblin snarled and wrapped himself in darkness and faded from view in the nearby shadows. Jorgenson returned to coaching the warriors.

Jeze followed the perimeter that the Carl had shown her. She was no stranger to running, and sprinted as fast as her legs could go. All of her concerns from the past day that weighed heavy on her melted away from the exertion in her legs and chest as she ran. The perimeter of the Guild compound consisted of a wall and buildings. Wherever an avenue appeared it was blocked off by a line of armored Legionaries. She darted past them in a blur.

Jeze ran as if her life depended upon it. In some ways, her life did depend upon it. Who knew what treachery Drake would commit if she was assigned to his team. This fueled her, and she ran faster. Jeze passed other running adventurers who were shocked at her speed and endurance. The teenager was no stranger to running. She ran like a wolf through the Deep Wood with Raynor. She ran to the Old Crone's school from her parent's farm through the rolling hills of Narcadia. Every day she ran with her brother. In the distance, she recognized the wide shapes of Helga and Rolfe, and they were nearing the Carl. Jeze ran faster, and as she got closer, the shapes of Mikal and Dunar came into view.

The endpoint and Jorgenson were only several hundred meters away. Jeze pumped her legs to their limit. Rolfe and Helga turned at the sound of her pounding footsteps.

"Oh, ho! Look at her run!" Helga roared.

"Does she want to race us? Come, little mouse!" Rolfe cheered.

The two large Frostsworn picked up their pace, but their bulky bodies were unable to match Jeze's lithe form. Jeze ran past them and caught sight of Mikal.

"Oh, it is you," the thin Frostsworn muttered as Jeze blurred by.

Dunar glanced back and picked up his pace. "I won't make this easy," he huffed.

The dark-haired leader was ahead and ran fast. The tall form of Jorgenson came into view. The Carl stood with his thick arms crossed. Jeze roared as she forced more energy into her legs and ran faster. Possibly the fastest she had ever ran in her life. Dunar was a few meters away from the goal. He was breathing hard and stumbled from the exertion. That was all Jeze needed to blur past and reached the Carl before him.

"Very good. The Scout should be the fastest," Jorgenson observed.

Jeze and Dunar were bent over, panting as the others arrived a few moments later. The teenager looked among them and did not see a fifth. Where was the Scout that the Carl talked about? Before she could ask, Jorgenson had handed her a set of wooden sparring weapons. A hand ax, and a long knife.

"You face against Helga. If you want to join our team, you must score three touches against her," the Carl said.

Dunar handed Jeze a sweat-stained set of padded armor. "A touch is when you land a significant strike on your opponent, and they were unable to land one on you," he explained.

Jeze nodded, familiar with the rules. She sparred with the Old Hunter many times.

Helga strapped on her sparring armor and was handed a two handed padded ax. "She is so small, I do not want to hurt her," The braided haired woman said and stopped when a hand axe thudded against her chest.

"That is one touch," Jeze said with a grin.

"Not fair! We didn't start yet!" Helga exclaimed.

"Nothing was said about starting, only that I needed three touches," Jeze proclaimed as she snatched up the wooden hand ax.

The others, including the Carl, laughed in agreement. Helga's face hardened.

"Mikal can mend broken bones," the muscular woman stated. Jeze was terrified.

Ten minutes later, Jeze sat on the ground, bloodied. Her left arm hung limp by her side. Mikal Shaped her bones, and Jeze gritted her teeth in pain as her arm was mended.

"You should quit. This is too hard for you," Jorgenson stated. His face was impassive and uncaring.

Helga stood across from Jeze in the sparring circle. The large warrior's forehead glistened with sweat. Helga had scored a dozen touches on Jeze, and the teenager was battered. The cheerful Frostsworn maiden was cold-hearted and remorseless in combat.

"You just need one more touch," Dunar encouraged her.

Jeze scowled and stood up. Her left arm ached.

"That is all I could do for her. She will need to rest for it to fully heal," Mikal stated.

Jeze was barely able to hold her dagger in her left hand, and she readied the hatchet in her right. Helga did not wait and charged forward with a downward chop with her two-handed axe. Her speed belied her immense size. Jeze rolled on her good shoulder and avoided the attack. Helga's movements were seamless and fluid as the warrior maiden continued her assault with a follow-up slash. Jeze slid under the wooden ax and stabbed at Helga's midsection with her dagger. The teenager felt certain she would score a touch, but Helga intercepted the attack with the haft of her weapon. The parry painfully jolted Jeze's arm, and she nearly dropped her long knife.

The teenager scrambled away and avoided Helga's counterattack. The warrior maiden pressed forward as relentlessly as a winter storm. Jeze was faster and more nimble, despite her injuries, and avoided Helga's attacks. But she wouldn't be able to keep it up, and as their previous bouts have demonstrated, eventually, Helga would score a brutal blow. Jeze needed to do something different. Her two touches came from axe throws, but Helga became savvy to them and was able to dodge. The circle they sparred in was ringed by the thick bodies of cheering Frostsworn, so running in hopes of tiring her opponent out was not an option. Besides, Helga was an Initiate-ranked adventurer, and despite her bulky size, the Frostsworn maiden had incredible stamina.

Helga swung her weapon with skill and fluidity, and Jeze was unable to find a proper opening. The teenager continued to strafe, circle, and dodge. More importantly, she waited for the right moment. Helga was skilled, but eventually, she fell into the pattern of attacking. The warrior maiden became complacent to the routine and neglected her defense. Helga had over-committed on a downward chop, and Jeze sprung into action. In a surprise move, the teenager charged forward.

Caught off guard, Helga lost her balance as she brought up her weapon to intercept a downward chop from Jeze's hand axe. The advantage Helga had was her size and reach. This was multiplied by her choice to fight with the Dane axe. A two-handed weapon with a wide blade at the end. Jeze's choice of weapons was more suited for close range. Jeze's hand axe hooked onto Helga's weapon and forced it down, and created an opening for Jeze to strike with her knife. Jeze closed the distance where Helga's weapon lost its effectiveness. Jeze stabbed forward. Helga released her weapon and demonstrated impressive agility, caught Jeze's wrist, and stopped the thrust before it could touch.

The two were entangled in a grapple, and Helga snarled into Jeze's face as the large maiden had a significant size advantage. Jeze was unable to break free from Helga's powerful grip, so she chopped with her axe. Helga's body was too close for Jeze to deliver a suitable strike, and her blow was not considered a touch.

Jeze stomped on Helga’s knee. The Frostsworn maiden grunted and head-butted Jeze in her face. Blood flowed down from Jeze's nose, and the two continued to struggle, with Helga gaining the upper hand due to her significant strength advantage. Jeze kneed Helga and created space enough to chop with her hand axe. Helga caught the weapon just beneath the blade and yanked it free. In that moment, Helga trapped Jeze's left wrist and dagger and readied the hand ax in her free hand for the final blow.

Jeze punched and stomped in a futile struggle against her much larger opponent. But she had one move left. Helga raised the hand ax, and Jeze flicked her wrist to release her knife to fall between the two. Helga swung, and Jeze caught the knife in her free hand. To win this bout, Jeze needed an uncontested touch. If she stabbed Helga and still got hit with the axe, it would not count. In one fluid motion, Jeze sliced Helga's wrist to stop the axe from striking and twisted the blade inwards to stab the Frostsworn maiden's neck. Helga gurgled in pain.

"Touch!" Carl Jorgenson called out.

Helga released Jeze, and her face transformed from a snarl to a wide grin.

"Very good!" The Frostsworn maiden exclaimed while rubbing her neck, where a welt had formed from Jeze's blow.

It was as if the dulled wooden blade did nothing to Helga's throat. What was she made out of? Jeze wondered. The teenager had feared for a moment that she had struck Helga too hard in the neck. But, the Frostsworn maiden acted as if they were best friends and were not trying to kill each other moments earlier. Jeze really liked the Frostsworn!

Dunar, Rolfe, and even Mikal patted Jeze on the back in celebration. Even though Helga won the vast majority of bouts, Jeze only needed to demonstrate three touches against the skilled warrior.

Jorgenson's rumbling voice stopped the celebration. "One more test to prove your worth."

Jeze was battered and bloodied from going toe to toe with the team's Striker. But she growled, "I'm ready."

"Vote, does Jeze join the Proven to be the team's scout?" Jorgenson ordered.

"Aye," Dunar said.

"Aye," Helga beamed and rubbed Jeze's wild dark hair.

"Of course, she could fight!" Boomed Rolfe.

Mikal sighed. "It's not like we have many options. She has my vote."

"Jeze, welcome to the Proven!" Jorgenson proclaimed.

Ziplocke scampered up to Jeze's shoulder. The Goblin was sure to avoid Helga.

"You are still a knucklehead," he snickered into her ear.