Walking into Algernon’s office, Micky was surprised to see both Ingunn and Yan sitting on either side of the scruffy gnome.

“Algernon mate, what’s the story? Gwilym mentioned you wanted a word with me?”

“Good to see ya lad. Here’s the thing, your team is getting prepped for the next expedition. I want to know if you’re ready. I’ve talked to Ingunn an Yan about it. They’ve both given a cautious yes.”

Ingunn respond to this with a low grunt, while Yan was more vocal. “I’ve given you my full support Micky. I believe you’re ready for this, and that you would make a valuable addition to our team.”

“I want to see it with my own eyes first though lad, I’ll not have anyone I don’t trust in the field with my team.”

Micky was more than a little blindsided by this direct honesty. It took several seconds before he could formulate an adequate response. ”I’ve been putting my best in with Yan and Ingunn over the last couple of days, but I don’t really know how I could prove that to you mate?”

“It's dead easy lad. We’re gonna run a few trials. Combat with Ingunn here, and Abilities with Yan. I’ll be watching on from the sidelines. Do well enough and you’re in. BLEEP it up and you'll be staying at the kiddy table for another month or two.”

This roused something in Micky, a competitive spirit he hadn’t found yet during his time in Outremer. The only thing he could compare it to was the brief pause just after kick-off. Between the moment when the ref blew the whistle and the fly-half kicked the ball skyward. A moment that seemed to stretch out and encompass everything around him.

“Right, I’m in mate. Let's do this.”

Following Ingunn out to the training ground Micky felt his heartbeat thudding in unison with his steps. Each stride was an extension of his desire to prove himself. He grabbed the practice spear from the rack, checking the leather hood was snug around the sharp steel blade. Taking up a bladed stance opposite Ingunn, he shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. He shifted softly from foot to foot, never stopping, never still.

“Ready Micky?” Ingunn asked him, sliding into a ready position of her own.

“As I’ll ever be sunshine. Let's go.”

Ingunn’s first strike came low and from the left, the butt of her spear aiming to foul Micky’s footing and spoil his balance. The reply came naturally to him, drilled by hours of practice with Tavish. Pull back the leading foot. Pivot. Strike downwards to trap the opponent.

“Decent, but you’ll not catch me with a move I taught you.” As she spoke Ingunn planted the butt of her spear firmly into the ground below the tip of Micky’s spear. Using it as a fulcrum she threw her body forward and to the side, the ball of her foot striking hard for Micky’s neck. He leaned back to avoid the strike, barely dodging it as the wind in its wake ruffled his hair.

“Well BLEEP me with a shovel, we didn’t cover that in training Ingunn.

“You didn’t think I taught you all my tricks did you” she replied, an actual grin forming on her face.

Taking advantage of the brief lull as Ingunn regained her balance Micky made a series of brief jabs, trying to strike for her center mass. Circling to her left Ingunn avoided the strikes easily, replying with an overhead slash of her own. Micky repeated the block he had attempted on his very first day of weapons training. Instead of a feeble block that tore the staff from his grasp he deftly directed the strike away, redirecting the force, rather than carrying it all through his arms and back.

“Much better Micky, the first time, you tried that you dropped the staff and nearly ate the strike face first.”

The strikes and blocks flowed together almost as though they had been choreographed. While he didn’t make a great deal of headway in actually striking Ingunn, Micky did manage to defend himself.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The clacking of the spear shafts echoed around the training area, creating an irregular rhythm. This was punctuated by the thud of shoulders and hips colliding, along with muffled curses as a finger was crushed or a glancing blow clipped Micky.

“Righto, that’s enough you two.” Algernon’s voice seemed to puncture the rhythm, allowing Micky to take a step back, chest heaving with ragged breaths. To his consternation, Ingunn didn’t appear tired at all. A singular bead of sweat at her temple was the only evidence she had been exerting herself.

“Ingunn, how hard were you pushing the lad?”

“Around sixty percent effort boss, but that’s without using any melee Abilities. He’s got good instincts and he doesn’t freeze up when he takes a shot. The rest we can teach.”

“I’d call that a pass then Micky, good effort.”

Still attempting to catch his breath, all Micky could muster in response was a wheezing “cheers.”

“Abilities next lad, catch your breath and drink some water. Meet us at the range in ten minutes.” Ingunn trailed after Algernon as he left the training square, the two deep in conversation. Staggering over to the spigot Micky filled his cup with the icy water, before draining it in a single gulp. Several cups of water later and with his heartbeat falling back into a steady beat he followed the two towards the range.

Waiting for him at the range was the majority of Gwilym’s team, along with Algernon and another male dragebarn he didn’t recognize.

“Good to see you made it through the first test byt,” Gwilym said with a grin. “This is Piotr, he's the security specialist for Algernon’s personal team.”

“Good to meet you mate” Micky replied with a wary smile, somewhat confused by the man's presence. “So you're like Ingunn then right?” He asked the man.

“Not exactly, no. While Ingunn is a deeply capable melee specialist, I am a defensive caster. My Class and Abilities synergize to create portable shields. Nothing in or out but what I decide.” The man’s accent was cool and slipped, the vowels precisely shortened.

“Oh, ok cool. So what do I need to do here?”

“It’s rather simple. I’m going to go to the far end of the range, and you are going to hit me with your best shot.”

“Wait, what? You want me to chuck a lightning bolt at you?”

“Precisely.”

With that Piotr turned and strode towards the far side of the range.

Micky turned to Algernon in consternation. “Is this guy for real? This is a test, right? I’m supposed to show good judgment and not blast this dude, right?”

“He’ll be fine lad. He might look a little on the soft side, but those shields of his are no joke. I’ve seen him stop a raging Phyrr cat without even breathing hard.”

“Uh, right. I guess I’m gonna go throw lighting at the nice man then” Micky said, incredulity still thick in his tone.

Stepping away from the group and unslinging the Vaixell, Micky mentally prepared himself. He looked back one last time at Gwilym. “Are you sure this is okay mate? I’m pretty sure blowing a coworker to smithereens is a pretty major work and safety violation.”

“You’ll be fine byt. Remember, the intent is the key.”

With a single swipe of his wrist, a thunderous E chord echoed around the range as a jagged beam of light careened towards the bespectacled dragebarn. A globe of luminous green surround Piotr as the lightning bolt struck home, the jagged arcs of energy flickering over its surface.

“Moderate elemental damage, with clear single target applications.” Piotr was bellowing to make himself heard from the far edge of the range. “Fire one more so I can confirm my findings.”

Micky stepped forward with a great deal more confidence to fire a second bolt, relief evident in the set of his shoulders.

“This is much easier knowing you’re not going to explode mate” he shouted towards the far end of the range.”

“Just so, but stepping into the unknown is just as much a part of this test as the bolt itself. Again now, if you please.”

With a wide grin, Micky complied. Again the range was filled with crackling light and the smell of ozone.

“Results confirmed, consistent moderate damage.” Walking back down the range towards Micky and the assembled audience he continued speaking at a much lower volume. “If the skill evolves I believe it will either grant spreading damage or increased damage.”

“I’m gonna call that one a pass too lad, good effort. What do you think Piotr?”

“It was accurate and the damage is worthwhile. As an aside I found his concern for my safety most endearing. When Zofia attempted the trial I believe you had hardly finished explaining the task before her knives were bouncing from my shield.”

Yan couldn’t contain a guffaw at this, his mirth evident. “That does sound like our Zofia. How did she react to not being able to get at you?”

“Ah, if I recall correctly she was most vocally displeased”

“Same old Zofia” interjected Gwilym, sharing Yan’s amusement.

“Righto then lad, you’ve done well so far. Only one more thing to check out. You got those buff Abilities from Mattheo right?”

“Yep, Bolster Spirit and Bolster Flesh. One raises might and the other increases will.”

“Good stuff, I reckon Bolster Flesh should do the job here. You remember how that one works?” Algernon asked with a smile at Micky.

“Yeah, not a problem. It’s a bit like Storm’s Wroth. The intent is the key, but as a Bard Ability, it’s linked to my performance. I’ve gotta match it with a song that links up with the buff.”

“You got something in mind? I reckon since Yan here is so full of energy we have you play him a little tune and then he lifts a few of those mannequins for us.”

Laughing at Algernon’s obvious enthusiasm Micky stepped forward.

“Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. I reckon this will get him going.”

Stepping forward Micky focused his intent and began to strum a fast, choppy beat. Once the beat was established he started to sing.

So pull up the charts and those weird gold machines

I see what it says but no clue what it means!

Just pull on some levers and yank on some chains

Feign a bad back till we’ve landed again

Hoist up the thing! Batten down the whatsit!

What's that thing spinning? Somebody should stop it!

Turn hard to port! (That's not port) Now I've got it!

Trust me, I'm in control!