Fritz found himself on green marble. The sight had his heart skip a beat. Dread and uncertainty assailed him again as he looked upon the roots and pillars of stone all around.

Taking one deep breath, then letting it out slowly, he calmed his nerves. He had to remind himself that he was stronger and wiser now, not the defenceless, half-drowned and fully starved fool he had been the first time he'd entered the Spire.

It was warm and dry, just as he remembered, and he was thankful for that, at least.

There, in the distance, were the three Doors. Already, the crew were gathering before them, making obvious observations and voicing unfounded opinions.

"I think we should go through the wood one," Bucket said, scratching himself absently with a dagger. "You know what they say, wood and stone are safer than glass or bone."

"Who says that?" Trudge challenged. "I ain't never heard that."

"Stupid," Barge agreed.

"The glass one looks fancy. There's probably a Treasure chest in there somewhere," Reed said. "Maybe a silver or a gold one."

"Not on the first floor," Mel said. "Gotta get higher for that. Isn't that right, Shade?"

The whole crew turned to him, waiting for him to speak. Toby smirked.

"That's right. Around one-third of the way up, silver and gold become far more common," Fritz stated.

"Have you ever even seen one?" Nail challenged.

"I have," Fritz said easily.

"Liar," the large man scoffed.

Already the posturing had begun.

Fritz turned a disinterested stare on the fool. He considered whether he should strike then and there, heading off any future displays of open disregard or outright disobedience.

"What did the chest have in it?" Bucket asked. The question distracted Nail, interesting him enough to stop glaring, and averting any immediate conflict.

"A few things, though most of their contents were claimed by the boss," Fritz replied, letting his frustration leak into his voice. "Treasures I fought hard for, too."

No one liked being 'taxed', and it would do well to show that he was very much like them in that respect. Engaging in a bit of camaraderie to start the Climb was nearly always a wise choice. Or so he'd come to believe.

There were some nods of understanding and a few muttered curses from the six men. Each of them had gone through the exact same test. Fritz smiled in commiseration.

"Still, that shouldn't dishearten us from discovering more chests. We'll be allowed to keep more this time around," Fritz announced.

"Really?" Clover asked.

Fritz nodded and explained most of what Nic had told him about the Climb, leaving out the thug's request that he keep at least half of them alive. They didn't need to know that.

"Now, stand aside, and let me look over the Doors," Fritz ordered. He took on a rougher tone than usual, knowing that if he spoke in his more noble tenor it would only forment mistrust and bitter resentment.

Therima had warned as such. Good leadership, she said, came from knowing who you were leading and what they needed in a Captain. Some would desire friendship, some would need a firm hand, others required clear rules and quick, certain responses for breaking them. There were outliers, to be sure, however, that was also remedied by keen observation and constant vigilance.

Though Fritz suspected this Climb would be a struggle, even before he considered the problems the thugs themselves presented, he knew it was a chance to polish his charm and consolidate his skill at command. And if he made some mistakes, well, he already didn't care much for this crew.

He had his own team, these men, especially Nail, were expendable.

Fritz realised what he was thinking and wondered when he had become so callous, admonishing himself for his bleak, black view. A few ill-chosen words here or there shouldn't seal a man's fate. He supposed he was seeing the situation as a powerful, aloof nobleman would, as a King might.

It wasn't right and Fritz decided to allow them some grace. The gutters had made him into a thief. How could he judge the others for the very same?

"We're not going to vote?" Trudge asked. He leaned his considerable weight on a large, steel-headed hammer.

"No," Fritz said. "I'm the Scout and the Captain. I'll only allow a vote when I'm undecided."

"Doesn't seem fair," Reed whined as the others restlessly shuffled their shoulders or feet.

"The Spire's aren't fair," Fritz said, harshly, then softened his voice. "Though if you follow me and my orders well, I'll make sure to keep you alive, and carry you high. To the Precipice if you're tough enough."

His words didn't reassure them. He could see that in the dark motes above their heads, though he didn't need those ethereal lights to tell. Their faces said as much, and just as plainly, save those of Clover, Toby and Mel. They knew how deadly he was.

Fritz supposed his reputation, or rather the Scarlet Shade's, was too new, too bloody, to be believed easily. The crew likely thought any tales of the Refuge and its battles were wild with exaggeration.

Fritz couldn't blame them, he would assume the same in their place.

Striding to the Doors, he slid his Door Sense over the first of them, starting on the left, as was his custom.

The crew parted, watching warily as he stared at the twisting glass of the graceful arch.

The impressions were fleeting, but as clear as the material it was made from. No monsters lay within. It was a winding labyrinth with translucent walls, and was filled with traps that resembled bells.

The next of the Doors was made of stone brick. It stank of rot. The feeling it emanated was eerie, and in his mind's eye, he saw shambling piles of mismatched bones strung together on dry tendons scraping through dark hallways. Fritz shuddered inwardly and discarded this Floor as a choice immediately.

The last set of stairs were made of wooden planks, as was the Door frame itself. Salty sea air gusted out of it occasionally. He received the image of great craggy bluffs spearing up from a gentle ocean. Wooden walkways, like the piers of a dock, branched between them. Man-alikes toiled on this Floor, standing on rickety scaffolding and mining some semi-precious gems from the stony surfaces of the cliff's faces.

Fritz paced between the doors, making something of a spectacle of his inspections.

"Hmm," he hummed, furrowing his brow.

"What? What have you found?" Mel asked anxiously.

"The Middle Door smells of rot, a sure enough sign of undead," Fritz espoused.

Shudders, like the one he had stifled, slithered over most of the crew.

"The other two have fewer dangers. And I glean that if we take the rightmost Door, we have a chance of scavenging strange materials. Gems or ores, if I guess correctly."

He considered the two Doors, then decided to take the glass one. While the promise of semi-precious stones was enticing, he didn't want to have to fight the Man-alikes for them. As was sure to be the case. Especially on such uneven and ramshackle footing.

That, and it was the very first floor, burdening themselves with a hoard of heavy stones would only slow them down. Carrying sacks of gems would only hinder them and sap their strength for the whole Climb to come.

"We take the glass Door," Fritz stated.

"What, why? What about the stones?" Bucket asked with incredulity.

Fritz regretted speaking of the possible reward for the rightmost Door, resolving not to make that simple mistake again, then explained his reasoning.

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There were grumbles brought upon by thoughtless greed, but they were quieted when he reminded them of the long, long way to the top of the Spire.

"There will be plenty more opportunities to gather wealth. As sure as steel," Fritz said. "We take the safest Doors while we still can. I don't expect we'll have that luxury once we're higher."

"How do you even really know what's behind these doors? You some sort of Guide?" Bucket asked. It wasn't an accusation, as it would have been from some of the more adversarial members of the crew, but a genuine question.

"I heard his dead daddy was a Guide," Reed said, his tone one of mockery. "But not a good one since he got lost. Wonder if it runs in the family. I bet-"

He suddenly fell silent. In one sinuous, subtle step, Fritz had drawn Quicksilver and thrust. Its black point had pricked the man's throat and rested there unwavering. The whole crew stood still as stone, eyes wide with fear and astonishment.

A trickle of red dripped down pale, quivering skin.

"Don't ever speak of my father again," Fritz threatened, allowing Dusksong to echo darkly. "You will die if you do."

"You wouldn't kill me," Reed spluttered. "The Spite."

"I've endured the Spite, and for worse reasons than silencing a slithering squidbedding slime like you," Fritz said, low and cold.

Toby looked at him askance, but didn't speak.

"I'm sorry. Won't happen again," Reed stammered.

"Swear it," Fritz demanded, intending to mete out some punishment if the thief dissembled or denied him.

"I swear it on my Sanctum," Reed said pleadingly.

Fritz felt the slight hum of a promise spoken true. It was somewhat surprising. He had thought that the weedy cutthroat would simply lie. Then, he realised he had no true measure of the men and women around him, and that had nearly led him to a premature, merciless judgement.

It would not do.

"Very well," Fritz said, sheathing his sword with a graceful motion. Reed sagged his shoulders, relieved, while his face showed some concern and curiosity. He glanced down at his chest, where his Sanctum would be and frowned.

Had he felt the promise too? Did he have some Awareness or another Ability to sense such things? The best way to find out was to ask. Fritz chided himself for not bothering to do so.

"Before we enter the glass Door, I have a few questions for each of you."

"What about?" Bucket asked warily.

"Powers and Roles," Fritz said. On seeing their apprehensive expressions, he added. "Only broadly, no need for specifics. You first, Reed."

"I'm a Pather. I've got a strike that makes my foe angry and some Passives that make me tough," he explained.

"A Defender then?" Fritz asked, finding the man's choices odd, considering his build.

"Guess so." He shrugged.

"Strange selections for one of your stature," Fritz pressed.

"Just wanted to survive, those were the best choices for that," Reed admitted.

Fritz nodded, then moved on to the next man, Trudge.

He was large, barrel-chested and thick-set. He claimed to be a leveler and a mage. Though he had a bolt Ability, he didn't disclose anything further about it. That was fine; Fritz and the whole crew would eventually see what kind of Power he had. It would be obvious once cast.

Barge, Trudge's more muscular twin, said that he himself was a Striker, one with Gloom Strike.

"You'll never see my sword coming," he boasted.

Bucket boldly admitted that he was a Pather and that he had a Stone Spike Ability and some Passives that made him sneaky.

The last of the men that Fritz didn't know, Nail, said he was also a Pather and that he was sturdy and had a harden metal Ability, which explained why he was wearing half-plate armour, and had an axe and a kite shield.

Mel was more secretive about her Powers than most, but she confessed to having stealth Abilities. Fritz also knew she had a Shadow Bolt from when they fought.

He also already knew what Toby could do, so he didn't bother asking the man about his Abilities.

Clover was the very last, and she glanced around nervously as all looked to her expectantly.

"Uh, I have a... uh, strike, a wind strike. It's very hard to see," she lied. Poorly.

Fritz frowned only slightly, then strode right up to her and whispered into her ear. "Tell the truth," he urged, though he thought he had guessed her plight already.

"Okay," she squeaked. "I'm leveless. Haven't been in a Spire before."

Fritz nodded; it was just as he suspected.

"How did you sneak you're way into this Climb?"

"I just asked to come when one of the bosses was asking around," she said softly. "Said I was a leveler and that was that."

"Why?"

"You know why," she hissed. "Remember where you found me? Alone and too weak to free myself. Well, I won't let that happen to me again. I'll get strong or die in the attempt."

Fritz smiled. "Very well. I applaud your bravery, though not your subterfuge."

"What are you two whispering about?" Nail burst out.

"Some lovers' secrets?" Barge added.

"Nothing of the sort," Fritz dismissed. "Though now that I have a good enough grasp on your capabilities, let's run through some drills."

"What?" Bucket asked.

"You heard," Fritz said. "Form up into groups."

From there, he had them practice a few of the more simple tactics from 'The Observations' and his training with Adam.

Just as he had judged, they needed it. They were undisciplined, sloppy and slow to react. If they went into a Door as they were now, they wouldn't have lasted even a minute against a pack of beasts, not without unnecessary injury or perhaps an undue death.

Fritz wouldn't have that either.

Although the landing room wasn't a great place to practice, being riddled with trunk-like columns and too small to really run or sprint, he still had them learn a few loose formations and memorise a few commands.

They grumbled and groused, questioning the need for the rigorous regimen. Fritz buried them with barking orders, imitating his tutor as best he could with some subtle and less subtle exertions of Dusksong to spur them on.

It took three hours before he called a halt, finding them inadequate, but able enough to follow with battle plans without making a total mess of them.

"Rest," Fritz ordered. "We'll go through in an hour."

They obeyed, and as they sat or lay down, Fritz went to each of them and offered some advice.

Not all of them heeded him, thinking him a taskmaster who only wanted to rule them for his own sick pleasure, though Mel, Clover, Toby, Bucket and Barge were receptive to his suggestions.

Once the hour was up, they shouldered their packs, and Fritz, leading the way, walked under the glass arch and Climbed up the glittering stairs.

---

What was meant to be an easy Floor was made difficult by the stubborn pride of the crew, their egos and bodies bruised from the, apparently harsh, training. They bickered with Fritz when he would pick the path, so convinced that their eyes and senses couldn't be wrong.

Fritz hadn't thought the practice that bad, not compared to his own lessons. In fact, it was more of a warm-up than anything truly strenuous.

While standing at a dizzying crossroads, Toby approached Fritz and spoke softly. "Why did you push them all so hard so soon?"

"That was nothing," Fritz protested. "And you know well why. Do you want them to scatter and be slaughtered as soon as we meet a beast or two?"

Toby shrugged. "If they die, they die."

"Well, that's not good enough for me," Fritz stated. "It's my duty to lead them. So I'll lead them as well as I may."

"Don't know why you bother," Toby said darkly. "They're already muttering about mutiny."

"Just words," Fritz said.

"Maybe," Toby said.

"Come on, the stairway's just over there," Nail burst out, pointing into the distance.

The clear glass of the hallway's walls had a strange, illusory effect. While you could see straight through them, it wasn't actually easy to discern which way you were going or if you were coming closer to your destination. It reminded Fritz of the inside of his Technique gem, with all its coruscating, confounding facets.

"It's not, 'just over there'," Fritz contradicted. "I told you this is a maze. It's meant to confuse you."

"It looks like we're getting further away," Bucket hedged.

"It merely seems that way," Fritz stated. "We're closer than you think. Just another hour or two and we'll be out."

"That's what you said hours ago," Reed whined.

"And it was as true then as it is now," Fritz said.

"It's okay to admit you're lost," Clover spoke up. "We won't blame you."

"I will," Trudge said, panting slightly.

Fritz narrowed his eyes at the crew, feeling a frustration that, while natural, also seemed strange.

The he caught some writhing energy in the air. There was a subtle light, near invisible, that wavered around each of them like a heat haze. On closer observation, it was around himself as well, and the faint edges of the illumination were like those of a saw.

Fritz frowned deeper, then looked to the source of the radiance. There, high in the centre of the Floor, was a great glass orb, bright and brilliant, its light spreading to each corner of the faceted, fractious maze. His Awareness whispered that's where the irritating influence poured from.

Fritz smirked; he'd forgotten how cruel and sinister the Sunken Spire could be. An emotion-aggravating effect on the very first Floor. It was almost as bad as venomous hounds. Almost.

"Did you hear me, Captain!?" Nail shouted.

"What? No, I wasn't listening," Fritz admitted arrogantly.

"I said we should break down the walls. They're glass, they should shatter easily," he seethed.

Fritz was about to refute him, then rebuke him for the foolish idea, but Trudge, in a fit of pique, swung his hammer, striking the clear surface beside him with a clang. The sound echoed like a bell, then was joined by the ringing of answering bells in the distance.

The whole team turned to him, glaring.

"Why did you do that!?" Nail demanded.

"You said... you said," Trudge stammered.

"It was just an idea!" he cried. "I didn't-"

Nail was interrupted by the sharp sound of a crack. A jagged line of white split the wall where it had been struck. A crack sounded again, then again, the glass splintered further, resembling an ever-growing web. A shard fell from the wall, then another, then they were being spat out in a sporadic spray.

The ringing of bells intensified, and so did the still echoing clang.

"What do we do!?" Bucket yelled.

Fritz pulled out a Door-dowser from his pack. He hadn't intended to use one so soon, but with the steadily rising clamour and the swiftly spreading cracks, he knew they had no choice but to flee as quickly as possible.

He activated the thin wand and let it pull him in the correct direction. It pointed left, which was not where the stairway looked to be, and through the added impressions of his Door Sense, he found he could more precisely feel its true location.

"What was that?" Clover asked.

"Door dowser," Mel stated.

"That means the door is that way, not over there?" Nail asked shocked.

"That's right. And I told you as much at least nine times," Fritz said with all due exasperation.

Nail grimaced, though he looked like he wanted to argue.

"What do we do!?" Bucket yelled again.

"We run! Follow me, the stairway is not as far away as I thought!"

Fritz ran to the left.

In a frantic scramble, they trailed him. He led them down the twists and turns, stopping only when there was a trap to be mindful of. In this case, the bells that were clanging so loud that they hurt his ears while also hastening the collapse of the maze, causing thin, wickedly sharp shards of glass to fall from the roof or fly from the walls.

"Break the bells," Fritz ordered, attempting to slow the cascading cracking.

They did, the first was flattened with Trudge's hammer, the second was rent by Nail's axe. The third was caved in by Reed's club, showing that his thin arms held a deceptive amount of strength.

Each bell broken bought them some more precious minutes.

Fritz theorised that by finding and silencing all the bells, the glass maze would cease shattering, but he had no desire to test his conclusion, nor did he think they had the time to do so.

The cracks and clamour only grew louder, and the crew began to slow, panting and cursing their ill-fortune. For some moments, Fritz worried that his impromptu training may have tired them too fully and doomed them. Then he shook his head and pulsed his Door Sense. He wouldn't give in to despair.

The hallway rumbled, and a shower of glass fell over them all, cutting faint lines into any bared skin and causing Fritz to slip into his shadowy form. While phased, he saw the world in bleak relief and, to his shade-doused joy, noticed the Stairway was only a few dozen or so yards away.

Fritz glided ahead, then solidified.

"We're close, just a few more turns!" he cried.

Speeding forward, then sprayed with a fine mist of glimmering glass, Fritz bounded around the last few corners and up and into the Stairway. There, he climbed into the Well Room.

He coughed, then began to pat the shards from his body and hair.

The crew came through only a minute after him.

"Did we lose anyone?" Fritz asked.

"No," Toby said, being the last one up the stairs.

"Good," Fritz said, his throat raw and his mouth tasting of blood.

"Damn, I hate this Spire," Toby groused.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Fritz said.

"What a bastard of a first floor."

"And we've only just begun."

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