"Damn it, how are we late?" Fritz complained to Bert as they ran through the darkening, drizzling streets.

"I dunno, we left early, took the right shortcuts and barely lingered for a few drinks," Bert recounted.

"I blame the sun," Fritz stated, shaking his fist at the descending bright spot in the clouds.

"You would, Sir Dusk," Bert replied leaping over a puddle and rushing past the blue-stoned buildings.

"That's a great alias, and you can be Sir Dawn. We can be the Twilight Knights," Fritz said, following behind with flowing footsteps, refined by Grace and guided by Awareness.

"No," Bert replied as they came to a sliding stop in front of Bitter Ends.

"No?" Fritz asked as he panted slightly.

"No, I hate it," Bert expounded. "Much too much faerie-tale-nonsense."

"Fair enough," Fritz agreed, knowing that Bert would come up with his own nonsense in due time.

He looked at the building, surprised it was actually quite a well-kept and clean establishment, a damn sight less disgusting and rough than he thought Nic's preferred haunt to be.

"Let's not keep the horrible man waiting," Fritz said, but he didn't move, apprehension stopping his feet.

"After you," Bert offered.

"Very well," Fritz agreed before taking a large, centring breath.

Fritz strode in through the open door into the well-lit common room, dark wooden benches and chairs were arrayed in rows while there was a bar to the right and cushioned booths to the left. Across the room a fireplace burned merrily, shedding a much appreciated warmth.

The Bitter Ends was definitely not the same kind of rotting dump the thieves and thugs frequented in the desperate district, though here and there he could definitely see the signs of rough living on the patrons. Long scars, missing fingers and hard eyes most among them.

He guessed he was now due to work with a different kind of criminal entirely, the kind that had survived and thrived. Well, that was unless he could successfully stay hidden, pull off his schemes and eventually get out of the wretched Rain City. With his siblings and Bert in tow, of course, and Sid if she’d come.

The balding barman gave them a curious look while he polished a glass with a rag.

Fritz pulled himself from his thoughts and approached the bar confidently, and said, "Looking for Nic."

The barman nodded and pointed a scarred hand to a booth behind them. Fritz, however, didn't need the directions because as soon as he spoke he felt anger and ill-intent bear down on his too-exposed back. He turned and walked up to Nic, making sure to let the confidence drain from his strides and letting some fear enter his expression.

"Sit," Nic ordered thickly, his breath reeking of strong spirits.

"Sorry we're late, lost track of the time," Fritz began apologising.

"Don't care. Sit," Nic repeated, glancing over both of them with leaden eyes that were somewhat blearier than usual.

Fritz and Bert sat and Nic poured himself an amber drink from a half-full bottle next to an empty one. Nic glared at them for nearly a minute, taking sips from his glass and letting the heavy silence stretch.

"No Quicksilver?" Nic asked.

"No, getting it a hilt," Fritz said.

"Want a drink?" Nic offered.

"No," Fritz replied warily, sure something horrible was coming.

"Want to earn some gold?" Nic asked.

"Yes," Fritz and Bert said together.

"Want to steal and fight?" Nic asked.

"Yes," They said together.

Nic's gaze became hard and sharp, "Did you kill Kev?"

"No," Fritz lied and Bert said.

He glared at them for another minute, seemingly trying to pull some confession or lie out of them that he could pounce on.

They were ready for this though, after their time in the Spire deadly contests of strength and will were far easier to endure. What was a looming threat from Nic compared to the hate and hunger of the Hound?

Fritz sweat, but only as much as he should have, and asked, "Kev's dead? Did someone take my boots?!"

"Your boots?" Nic growled.

"I mean his boots," Fritz corrected. "I uh… just terrible what happened. Just terrible," He added, playing up the greedy-idiot-but-not-a-murderer act.

It would be suspicious of course if he didn't mention his prized boots, especially considering how much he had complained about them. He wasn't wearing them at the moment of course, before this meeting he'd changed into his spare set he had stolen in the Upper Ring.

Nic scowled but Fritz could see him sag a little. The thug took another swig, finishing his glass and going to pour another. He seemingly thought better of it as he pushed the glass away and started drinking straight from the bottle.

It was either a good sign or a very bad one.

"Jobs then," Nic stated. "Bert, there's a spot open for you in my gang. But you have to do some fighting in the brawling rings first, you up for that?"

"Yes!" Bert burst out eagerly, not much of it being an act.

Nic nodded and even smiled for a second until its minuscule warmth was quickly quenched as he turned to Fritz.

"Fritz, you're a sneaky one right?" Nic questioned though it sounded more like an accusation.

"Yep," Fritz agreed.

"Been burgling the Upper Ring? I heard someone got into some trouble, set off some wards a day or two ago," Nic said slyly.

"Maybe," Fritz hedged.

"Then I heard they were captured but somehow talked their way out of being put in the stocks," Nic said.

"Must be a slippery bastard," Fritz said feeling like a stone was sitting in his gut.

"He is," Nic said. The quiet stretched on achingly for some moments.

"Fine, it was me," Fritz admitted. "Don't know how I set off the ward though, never happened to me before."

"You got a proper Sanctum now," Nic said. "Don't know the full ins and outs, but wards are usually made to react to Sanctums. Don't want alarms blaring or birds blowing up because they stepped on a ward," He explained with a grim chuckle.

"Yes, that would be... messy," Fritz agreed but it still didn't quite explain why the ward's reaction was so delayed. Another question for later, and not for Nic.

"And expensive," Nic said. "But we're getting off track. I'm gonna stick you with a friend of mine, does a lot of ‘night work with a side of knife work’. As he puts it. He can show you the finer points of being a cowardly, sneak thief."

Fritz nodded and Nic relaxed further, seemingly content that they weren't complaining about being told what to do.

"Although," Fritz began and Nic stared pointedly at him. "Me and Bert are thinking of climbing the Mer Spire the day after tomorrow."

"You are? So soon after the 'horrifying' last one?" Nic asked flatly.

"Yes," Fritz replied. "You said it's easy compared to the...other Spire." He added with an almost preformative shiver.

Nic considered his words and shrugged.

"And you can pay the fee?" He asked.

"We had some triads stashed and Fritz was able to...find some more," Bert explained.

Nic nodded, took a long swig from his bottle and thought.

"Alright, that's fine, be back here within two weeks," Nic said. "It'll get your Paths if nothing else. And we won't have to pay for it."

"And if you do well enough you might get invited to meet the Nightshark," He added as an afterthought.

The comment froze Fritz's guts. Damn it! Just what we are trying to avoid, he yelled inwardly.

But keeping up his act he smiled wide and pretended to be excited about the prospect.

When it seemed the scarred man was done with them and their meeting Fritz began to stand.

Nic stopped him with a gesture, stared him in the eyes and said, "Don't join up with any guilds or Ceph for that matter. And no Guides. Secrets must be kept secret."

Fritz nodded vigorously, "Of course, not a word out of our mouths will be about… you know what."

"Good, 'cause the Nightshark will know. They always know," Nic intoned darkly, glancing, only for a blink, at a rat scratching at its scales as it perched on the windowsill outside.

"Now get out of here. I'm sick of your too-pretty face, and your idiotic grin," Nic ordered.

Fritz and Bert complied quickly getting up and leaving the tavern in a suitably obsequious scramble.

Bert was about to speak but Fritz shook his head and held his finger to his lip in a shushing gesture. He understood and nodded, following Fritz to somewhere where they couldn't be overheard.

They reached Fritz's hideout in about forty minutes, and only when they were up in the loft and had searched for any listeners did Fritz and Bert begin to speak.

"That was a close one," Bert sighed, seemingly surprisingly weary. They had been up for nearly two days, it would drag on even someone with high Endurance like Bert.

"Not that close, but it doesn't seem like he suspects us. I wonder why that is," Fritz mused.

"Maybe it's the murders," Bert said with a yawn.

"What murders?" Fritz asked.

"Just talk of some of the nastier gangs going missing," Bert said.

"Oh, well, that has nothing to do with us so we might as well let her have all the credit," Fritz said offhandedly. Though he felt a small shiver run down his back.

"No arguments here," Bert agreed with another yawn.

"Sleep?" Fritz asked.

"Yeah, mind if I sleep here?" Bert asked, slumping down in the bed of rags and laying his head on Fritz's pillow without waiting for an answer.

"Go ahead. Make yourself at home," Fritz said blandly.

"Thanks. Goodnight, Sir Dusk," Bert said with a grin before falling asleep almost immediately.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Fritz tore away a spare blanket from his bed but smiled at his blood brother then he took a place by the rattling window rafters.

He didn't want to sleep just yet, he just knew there would be a new face added to his nightmares. One with bloodshot, bulging eyes, and lank greasy hair. He was so tired, but even so he sat still and watched the night. He wished he had a book, maybe he should’ve kept ‘The Observations’ for longer, thoughts of that small journal inevitably led to thoughts of Sid. He wondered where she was, and though they only spent a week in the Spire together, he missed her.

Soon, without even knowing it, he was lulled to sleep by the gentle hammering of the rain.

-

Fritz slept terribly, and he couldn't even blame Bert's sleep talking, no it was nightmares, again.

Could he ever be free of them?

Dawn was breaking and Bert was up, stretching his steadily growing muscles, Fritz looked on enviously, wondering when he'd get muscles like that.

With a sigh he stood, he had nothing pressing save his agreement to meet up with Carter at noon so he decided to find something to do.

"Bert, what's the plan for today?" Fritz asked his friend.

"Hmm, breakfast, then more shopping for me, but I need to get more stuff from the stash, didn't have all the gold I need," Bert said, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"Ah, actually I may need to get some gold too, commissioned something and I should get the full amount to the smith," Fritz said.

"Oh, did you?" Bert asked. “It’s the same for me, what are you getting made?”

"Oh, you know. A surprise," Fritz said, unwilling to share.

"Never mind that then," Bert said, sensing Fritz's obstinacy and leaving the matter be. "Let's get some piping hot squid pies then let's get our gold, I'll need you to open the safe anyway."

"Before we go we should do something about these packs," Fritz suggested.

"What's wrong with them?" Bert asked.

"Oh, nothing. It just would raise some suspicion carrying identical packs that bare more than a passing resemblance to Sid's," Fritz stated. "Honestly, I should've thought of it before but there was so much to do. But what's done is done."

Bert looked over the traveller's packs with some annoyance. "Disguise?" He asked.

"Disguise," Fritz agreed.

With that they painstakingly covered over the packs with sheets of thin leather and cloth Fritz had scattered about his hideout. They haphazardly stitched the odd assortments into place, making sure not to damage the precious packs.

When it was done and the two pack's distinguishing features were hidden they shouldered the ugly things.

With a nod from Fritz, they set off, side by side.

The pies were a warm respite in the cold morning drizzle, chewy and salty, they ate them heartily, slurping up the slightly inky gravy as it dripped from their lips.

After breakfast, and with food brought to his attention Fritz remembered the shark flesh he had paid to get smoked. So they returned to the docks, paying the copper triad toll, and retrieved the strips of shark meat from a man and his smokehouse.

He tested the taste, just to know what they were in for in the Spire. He was delighted. It was actually quite good. Well, not exactly 'good' but a whole lot better tasting than the various other monster meats he had eaten.

While it was a little chewy, once it had a little moisture, it was flaky and decidedly salty and smoky in a pleasant way. It did have that peculiar metallic aftertaste though, like you'd been sucking on a copper triad. Thankfully it wasn't at all gritty. Unlike the swordfish.

Whether shark was just a better meat for this or whether the smoker's skills made the difference, it was tough to say, but he appreciated the welcome change nonetheless.

They rapidly stacked their disguised packs with the strips of preserved fish and with a thank you and a small tip of silver to the smoker, they left to visit their stash.

Retrieving their gold was done at their leisure, and without issue, taking forty more gold triads each and also secreting their golden seed’s inside the, now hollowed out, soap bars in his shaving kit. Which was then wrapped tightly in oilcloth and placed at the bottom of Fritz’s pack. They would definitely want them during the Climb.

Fritz was surprised at the rate they’d been spending, now they only had around twenty triads left in the safe, and the rest of the bull’s heart. He would’ve thought the huge sum of close to two-hundred gold might last them for at least a year, even if they lived lavishly. But it had been a week, no less than a week, and they had already emptied out most of their starting one-hundred-and-eighty triads.

He supposed that’s what you had to spend if you wanted to be prepared, if you wanted to survive. Climbing was turning out to be wildly expensive and made all the more difficult by the King’s Spire taxes and fees. He cursed the King silently.

He wondered if they should just take the rest of the gold now, but the cautious, conniving sneak thief in him wanted to keep it stashed.

He just kept thinking; What if we’re found out? Shaken down again by Nic? Or worse the Nightshark.

In the end his caution won, but barely. If everything they had, even their shirts and their shoes, at least they’d have something to bounce back with. It would still be a terrible blow, but not a deadly one.

With a resigned sight he closed the safe, but not before Bert took the last of the dull amber glowstone’s from its depths and placed it in his pack. With a nod that said he was done, Bert let Fritz close the safe and the false wall. Then they were off.

Once they had snuck back to the desperate district they split up. Bert headed back to the Upper Ring while Fritz decided to pay Naomi a visit. Maybe she'd join the team, and if not she and her sister did sell remedies like the healing grease.

Venturing down the alleys and walking alongside the gutters, Fritz eventually came across the stalled-lined street that was the desperate district's equivalent of a local market. Making his way to a medium-sized stall on the outskirts he found himself standing in front of a table full of small tins, draughts, flasks and vials with a few bundles of twine-bound herbs here and there.

He waited as the dark-haired, pretty woman under the stall's covering talked with an older woman and her husband. The old lady asked for something to ease his joints while he grumbled he didn't need such remedies and he'd be fine. Eventually, the old couple were gone with an ointment as no small amount of chiding and chattering.

The stall’s owner then turned to Fritz as he patiently waited and perused the remedies and reagents.

"What's ailing a young man like you?" She asked brusquely. "Can't sleep? Can't eat? Achy feet? Itchy bits? My remedies can help with those. But if you're looking for a mender for a broken heart you better look elsewhere. Try a brothel," She rapidly recited without much heat as if this was a standard slew of talk to get the local men to leave her be.

"A brothel? What? So I can end up back here in need of a powder for itchy bits?" Fritz said with false offence and a sly smile that said he didn't mean it.

She smiled back mischievously, "So one dose of the powder then?" She asked.

"No, no nothing like that. I'm looking for Naomi, I presume you're her sister, Ame?" Fritz said ingratiatingly.

Ame's smile disappeared in an instant.

"Leave," She stated.

"Vee said I should see her," Fritz explained holding his hands up defensively. "Said she'd probably like to know I'm alive."

"Did she?" Ame said suspiciously, her turquoise eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

"Fritz," He stated.

Her eyes went wide with shock, "Liar. You're meant to be dead, stuck on a locked floor," She said sharply.

"Ah, well... It wasn't as fatal, or as locked, as it was to be believed," Fritz said modestly. "But I digress, I've come to see Naomi. Vee said she took the death, my death, hard."

"She did," Ame said sadly, then with an angry glance she continued. "This better not be some sick game. You better be who you say you are, or there's going to be a whole lot of hurt waiting for you. And you don’t want to piss off an alchemist. We can make things...Unpleasant."

"I am who I say am, if you tell her I'm here she can vouch for herself," Fritz said confidently.

"Very well," Ame said turning and walking into the small, wooden house behind her stall.

After a minute, she exited and Naomi followed.

She looked how he remembered, pretty and small, except she now had dark bags under her bottle-green eyes and her black hair's green streak was absent, replaced with dark purple.

When Naomi saw Fritz her light brown skin paled further and after pushing past her sister she began to run to him. Expecting another hug, like the last time they'd seen each other, Fritz stretched his arms out wide. Only to be surprised, when she instead snatched up a clay flask off the table, unstoppered it and splashed him with some clear liquid that glittered with flakes of silver and stank of garlic.

Fritz coughed at the pungent smell and began hacking as he backed into the rain to wash the awful substance off him.

"What was that for?!" He spluttered.

"Just making sure you weren't a ghost," Naomi said numbly.

"Well, I'm not," Fritz protested, wiping at the glittering stain.

Naomi dropped the flask on the table, then ran at him in truth, beaming brightly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and tight. He was about to reciprocate the hug when she suddenly gagged and pushed him away.

"You stink," she cried, her features scrunched.

"Who's fault is that?" Fritz asked incredulously.

“Yours! You can’t go dying, then coming back like nothing happened,” Naomi said, tears starting to run down her cheeks. “Especially after, after...after we left you.”

He didn’t know if the tears were of happiness, guilt or anger, but he felt impressions of each roiling around her, fighting to be heard.

“It was my choice to make and a promise I meant to keep,” Fritz said a reassuring smile stretching his face. “I’m glad you're okay.”

“I’m glad you're okay too,” Naomi whispered.

They stood apart. For some long awkward moments, Ame looking on anxiously as if she wanted to help somehow, but didn’t know what to say.

Fritz coughed. "Does that stuff even really work on ghosts?" He asked.

"Sure," Naomi hedged, with a glance to her sister who nodded.

"You don't sound too convinced," Fritz observed.

"All of our remedies and potions work," Ame pronounced proudly.

"That's good to hear because I'm planning a Climb up the Mer Spire, and I need a lot of healing grease. Nine tins if you would," Fritz said, moving the conversation to business and away from the awkwardness.

"Why would you need so much? Do you really expect to get that hurt that often? Again?" Naomi asked nervously, wiping her tears away with her sleeve as Ame immediately began to gather the tins.

"Merely a precaution," Fritz lied. "Say I don't suppose either of you would like to join? We are missing some team members."

Naomi shuddered and shook her head vigorously. "No. No climbing, not again," she said.

"I've got a stall and a sister to mind but thank you for the invitation," Ame said smoothly.

Fritz nodded solemnly. It seemed that most who survived the Sunken Spire had very little desire or will to try Climb again. Fritz didn't think it was a flaw of character, if anything they were the more normal ones, happier to survive without taking the absurd risks Fritz and Bert were.

It made sense, the Spires were deadly and people with less had fewer chances to get lucky and far fewer protective measures. They just didn’t have the armour, defensive Treasures or potions to help them survive as the wealthy and well connected could. Many a Climber from humble or even less humble beginnings could die in an instant, by monster, mistake or just bad luck.

Still, Fritz felt as if he had no choice but to keep climbing, keep the momentum going in case he began to flounder and stagnate in his own petty desires. He needed the power, for his family’s and his own sake. For an escape from the poverty and the helplessness. An escape from the chains that prevented him from following his dreams.

Naomi said something, shaking him out of his bitter inner tirade against Rain City, and himself.

"What was that?" Fritz asked turning his attention back to the young alchemist.

"I said you should probably get some water-breathing potions too, water aligned Spires are notorious for having submerged floors and chests. Can make them a lot easier," she repeated, sounding like her mood had improved considerably from only moments before.

She must like her alchemy, Fritz supposed.

"That's a fantastic idea, any other suggestions?" Fritz asked, "And don't say powder for itchy bits, Ame's already suggested that."

Naomi gave a sly smile and a cute laugh then started hawking her wares like any seasoned merchant.

Watching her wrap and bundle the various goods, Fritz smiled while listening to her suggestions.

In the end, he ended up with nine tins of healing grease; a sealed jug of water-breathing potion good for twelve three-hour doses; three vials of generalised anti-toxin; six 'vigour' pills; a bottle of warming liquor infused with herbs; and a flask of supremely slippery nonflammable-oil.

"Give me one of those ghost potions too," Fritz added as he piled the things into his pack.

"Sure thing, going to fight ghosts?" Naomi asked.

"Not likely, just want to be prepared for all I can be. Unlike last time," Fritz replied. "That and I can always pour it on Bert if he gets too annoying."

"A wise use, but I thought that's what the oil was for," Naomi giggled.

"What are you suggesting? I have never been so scandalised," Fritz said blandly as if he were bored by the subject.

"Nothing," She said, her cheeks colouring slightly.

"All told this will cost you four silver, and three copper triads," Ame said expectantly holding out a cupped palm.

"What? No saved-your-sister discount?" Fritz protested while fishing out a triad from his heavy purse.

"Fine, three silvers," she said begrudgingly at Naomi's glare.

Fritz smiled and placed a gold triad into hand.

Ame goggled at the triad for a moment then rapidly slipped the gold into her apron's front pouch.

She beamed widely, her smile almost identical to her younger sister's.

"Come back anytime. Perhaps you'd like to take Naomi to dinner?" Ame asked sweetly.

"Ame!" Naomi said aghast.

"Or me for that matter if Naomi is so opposed," Ame continued, brushing a stray strand of black hair from her face with a slight fluttering of her eyes.

Fritz laughed and waved her off, "Sorry, I have places to be at the moment, my calendar is quite full you see, what with my upcoming Climb."

Ame pouted but it didn't look at all genuine.

He shouldered his quickly filling, ugly pack, and with his errands done and noon soon approaching, he said his farewells. Promising to visit again when time permitted.

Fritz waved once more before setting off to meet Carter by Tallies.

He arrived early, but it seemed Carter had arrived even earlier, and was pacing and muttering something to himself as if rehearsing what to say to his beneficent benefactor.

Not wanting to alarm the man Fritz strode forth to where the man had stopped briefly by an alley, and heard a higher voice say to the man, "Calm down, being all jittery isn't going to help."

Fritz then noticed a short person, hooded and cloaked, who leaned stiffly against a wall, trying to put an air of unconcern. He suspected it was a woman by her high pitch and slight build but he couldn't be sure at just a glance.

"That's right, calm down. No need to fear," Fritz said and they both jumped, the hooded woman's hand going to an iron dagger tucked in her weathered belt.

He hadn't actually meant to scare them, he supposed that in the shadow of the tavern, he had inadvertently been using Cloak of Dusk while striding up to them. But to them, it must've seemed that he appeared out of nowhere.

“Why’d you sneak up on us!” The woman near screeched.

"Again, calm," he said holding his hand away from his sheathed dagger. "Just an Ability I forgot to Suppress."

"Oh, it's you," Carter sighed in relief. "You scared the ink out of me."

"Tis I," Fritz agreed. "And who's this? Weren't planning on jumping me were you?" Fritz asked with a confident smile that said he wouldn't have any trouble killing them if they were.

"No, of course not," Carter said quickly.

Fritz could hear the ring of truth in his words so he let him continue.

"This is my sister, Rosie," Carter said. This statement felt less true but not entirely false. "I wondered if you needed more people for your Climb. So I brought her along, just in case you were feeling generous," He added with a hopeful smile.

Fritz gave the pair a thoughtful look, then nodded, "I suppose I could use a spare if one of you gets cold feet. Got any skills?"

"I can stab and sneak," Rosie said.

"Wonderful, you'll fit right in," Fritz said.. "Right, well, let's go get you two some gear. You're not going into a Spire in those rags on my watch."

Fritz spun on his heel and motioned for his new recruits to follow. After a moment they shook off their surprise and quickly obeyed.

He led them to the steam district, asking them a couple of questions as he did. It seemed that their tale was much the same as many an urchin. They were orphans left to struggle and scrape by doing menial labour or 'odd jobs' when occasion demanded it. Fritz sympathised having lived in the slick streets and the cold gutters himself, even if he hadn't been born there.

Still, it seemed that they'd lived hard and would probably be suited for the cruelties of a Climb, even if he just needed them to carry the bags and packs.

First, he got them some proper clothes, rugged labourers linens, then outfitted them with some boiled leather armour to fit over the top.

This forced Rosie to remove her hood, and Fritz knew why she kept it on. She was ugly, her pond-scum-coloured eyes bulged too much from her oddly shaped brow and her crooked, previously broken, nose jutted over thin grey lips. Her hair hung lank and dark the black-green of seaweed.

Fritz smiled at her just the same when she asked Carter how she looked in her new clothes and she seemed surprised that neither made some brutal observation.

"Not gonna call me frog face in front of the 'lord' I see," She said scathingly to Carter.

"He wouldn't dream of it," Fritz said. "Now let's get you two some weapons."

"Can I have an axe?" Rosie asked.

"What? Can you even lift one?" Carter asked exasperated.

"Once I’m level one, I could," she argued.

They began to bicker all the way to Anchorwrought Smithy. At first, Fritz found it endearing, reminding him of his own crew, but it soon got on his nerves and he asked them, politely, to cease their speech, forever.

While the two now whispering recruits looked over the weapons on display, Fritz made his way to the counter and the young apprentice who manned it.

"I have the rest of the commission fee," Fritz told the man who glanced over his shoulder and listened.

The clanging in the forge was muffled by the heavy door but there was a definite rhythm going, one the apprentice seemed loath to interrupt.

"You can leave it with me," the young man said.

Fritz nodded and handed over ten gold triads, "I'm also looking for sturdy weaponry for first-time Climbers, any suggestions?" He asked the man who took the gold and quickly locked it away in a lockbox beneath the counter.

"First time? Which Spire?" The apprentice asked with interest.

"Yes, we're Climbing the Mer Spire tomorrow, once Quicksilver is ready," Fritz stated.

"Well, you can't go wrong with spears and shields then a sidearm, like a shortsword," The man explained.

Fritz nodded, it's basically what 'The Observations' suggested too but it was good to get a second opinion, one preferably from someone living and not from a centuries-old book.

"Grab a spear, shield and a shortsword," he told his recruits over his shoulder.

"Can I get an axe?" Rosie asked again, "A small one?" she added.

"He's already paying for us to go in and get equipment, why are you pushing on his generosity? Do you want him to ditch us?" Carter hissed.

"Get a hatchet instead of a shortsword then, Carter you want to swap out your sidearm?" Fritz offered magnanimously.

Carter shook his head.

"You're paying these two to Climb?" The apprentice asked, having somehow overheard and seeming exceedingly interested in the prospect.

"A small sponsoring, need people to carry my bags, or fend off a monster or two," Fritz said

The apprentice listened to the forge again furtively, then asked in a low voice, "Do you have any room for an extra hand?"

Fritz gave the man an appraising look. The apprentice appeared strong, both bigger than Bert and a little taller. His head and face were shaved bald like his master.

"George right?" Fritz confirmed.

George nodded eagerly.

"What's stopped you so far?" Fritz asked also lowering his voice.

"No team, no gold," George replied.

"You want me to sponsor you too?" Fritz asked.

George's muscular shoulders shuffled awkwardly and he nodded. "You won't need to get me any equipment though, I have a full set of armour and weapons. Made them myself."

Fritz took a moment to think it over. With George along there would be five of them, much easier to find one last Climber than two. And the more people the more wealth could be carried back. That and he didn't have to buy the man his gear so he felt he didn't have much to lose. Save the one gold Spire tax.

"Sure, Mer Spire, noon tomorrow," Fritz stated and held out his hand to shake.

George took it and shook it roughly a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Thank you, you won't regret it," He said.

"I think you're right."