Fritz wove lethargy over Nail. The thug's eyes slid out of focus, and his eyelids drooped.

"What did you... do?" he slurred.

"Sleep, you've had a long night," Fritz said, smiling sharply.

Nail, though he had been restored by the Well and a meal, couldn't resist the curse fully. The night had been long and draining. Especially if one still used Stamina for their Abilities, as Fritz assumed the ogre did.

Nail struggled weakly, but every moment Lethargy ate his Stamina and prevented its recovery, and he didn't dare make a noise or react violently. Not with Mortal Edge still held to his neck.

"You... you... I'll... get..." the thug slid in and out of waking before he slumped.

Fritz stifled a sigh.

Glancing around, he waited the full five minutes before reapplying his curse and removing his blade. While Bucket stirred during this time, his eyes were only for the two women lying by the opposite wall. With a spite-soaked grumble, he turned over, putting his back to them. He didn't even notice Fritz was missing, nor that he was looming over Nail.

Cloak of Dusk was a strange stealth Trait indeed. Everyone who had experienced it had complained as such, too. It shrouded him from one's attention rather than veiling him in shadows, which could be a boon or a bane depending on the circumstances. In this case, in the dim shade of a thin tree, it was a definite boon.

Fritz didn't return to his bedroll immediately. Instead, he considered what he should do. Nail wasn't trustworthy, but killing him now would call down the Spite. Adam had also warned him that killing in Well Rooms was said to strengthen the Spite's vindictiveness and escalate the pace at which it would grow more perilous. His tutor had also confirmed his theory that it would grow worse the more Floors you Climbed, or the longer you stayed.

They had a whole four floors more to go before he could leave, alleviating that oppressive attention. Though if the levelers were to escape on the third Floor, there could be some leeway.

Grimacing, Fritz glanced around, only to find Toby watching him, his eyes gleaming with a circle of dim red around his pupils.

"Going to do it?" Toby signed. "I can if you don't have the heart."

Fritz shook his head, then summarised with a simple gesture. "The Spite."

Toby mirrored his grimace. "We'll deal with him later, then?"

"Sixth or fifth. Him and any other traitors."

"Bucket? Reed? Barge?"

Fritz shrugged. "We'll see."

Toby nodded. "I've got your back. I'll watch them."

Fritz nodded, and for once, he was glad of the gloomy man's presence. He could almost count him as a friend again. It was funny what a few weeks and deadly experiences could do.

He returned to his bedroll and settled in to sleep. There were nightmares there, and he tossed and turned for hours. He awoke tired, gruff and grouchy. They ate the cold, charred meat that remained from their last meal.

Fritz ignored the glares Nail sent his way.

Once he was done with the sparse, uneasy breakfast, he packed his things away, then stood and strode over to the awaiting Doors.

The first was a large, slanted pipe of bronze. It was warm to the touch and appeared to 'breathe'. Humid, metallic air was pushed out, then pulled in. His Door Sense revealed more; it was something of a trap floor, a straightforward ring of interlocked circular chambers that would fill with water.

The second Door was a cave, the stone of which had a muddy red hue. Within the winding tunnels were goblins. An infestation of the idiotic and ill-equipped creatures, not so many as to trouble Fritz and Toby, but enough to threaten the safety of the rest of the crew. It could have made a fine floor to 'lose' Nail on. Yet he doubted the man, in all his armour, would fall to them easily.

The third was an arch woven of twisted reeds and roots. Even from a foot away, it stank. The wind leaking from it had notes of rotten wood, stagnant water and foul algae. Within were buzzing bugs of hideous shape, and some of monstrous size. The Floor was obviously a bog or swamp. Easy to reject.

Everyone hated such Floors. Even if they were filled with Treasures, which they often weren't, the sheer filth and frustration contained within wouldn't be worth what could be found.

So it was that Fritz was left with a choice between a bronze Floor of odd design and one filled with goblins. He erred on the side of expedience. The trap Floor was smaller, and so it became the one he chose. He couldn't risk long floors, not while being undermined by Nail and any conspirators he managed to convince to join his faction.

Although he wasn't truly afraid of the thug and the trouble he'd inevitably dredge up, it would be a distraction, and a distraction could be deadly in a Spire, especially the one they were currently Climbing.

Fritz turned back to the crew to find that they were still sitting around, their packs still open, and bedrolls and blankets lying on the ground. Only Toby was ready to leave, standing and brooding.

Fritz scowled, frustrated at their lack of action.

"Anyone need more healin' grease?" Clover asked. "Or want me to change any bandages?"

"I got something you can rub some grease on," Barge said obscenely.

"Piss off," she replied.

"Can you have a look at this?" Reed asked, proffering a linen-wrapped forearm, blotched with old blood.

"Alright," she said, making her way over while opening a small tin.

Fritz sighed inwardly. If it were his own team, they would be ready by now, but these thugs didn't know of his expectations. They weren't real Climbers.

Reflecting on his previous Climb, Fritz felt fortunate he had found such an interesting and obstinate bunch of individuals for his own Team. However he had done it, he had discovered those who had true potential. He would have to remember that the next time Cal or Rosie annoyed him with their antics, or when Lauren was uncompromising and aloof, or when Bert was Bert. George was good, the only sensible one apart from himself, it seemed.

"We leave in fifteen minutes, get ready," Fritz announced.

"What? We just got up!" Nail argued.

"Yeah, give us at least half an hour, maybe an hour to wake up," Bucket complained.

Most of the crew agreed to the notion, which caused Fritz to scowl further. He tapped his foot impatiently, then stopped the telling motion.

"Very well, half an hour," Fritz allowed, irritated at the concession. Pushing them wouldn't win him any respect, only grudges.

While the others lazed and dallied, he decided to fill his time with a few stretches and exercises. While it wasn't strictly necessary to keep his conditioning constant in a Spire, it couldn't harm him too much. Not if he didn't push himself as hard as he did in his training outside.

Eventually, the crew was ready to Climb, and they gathered before the Doors.

"Which one are we goin' up?" Trudge asked.

"That depends. Do you all have something to allow you to breathe underwater?" Fritz replied.

They nodded. He was thankful that they had at least come that prepared.

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"Good, then we're taking the bronze pipe," Fritz announced. "Have your remedies, potions or Treasures ready."

There was some shuffling as they searched their packs and pockets. Fritz turned and began to Climb.

The pipe was slippery, and his boots slid as he stepped. Luckily, there were bronze handles set into the walls; they soon became ladders as the passage grew steeper until the ascent had become a vertical climb. From below, he heard grunting and cursing. Fritz sweat and his arms ached by the time he pulled himself up and out of the stairway.

He stood by the hole, helping the next of the crew out, then the next.

With their packs and gear, it had been a slow climb, one that had drained them considerably before they had even really begun exploring the floor. Fortunately, there wasn't much to explore.

Fritz stared around the cylindrical chamber, finding it sealed at one end with a large circular door flanked by long levers and wheel-shaped handles. Valves, if his mechanical knowledge was accurate. He bade the crew be quiet. He listened; there was a distant rumble. Water, just like the drowned archives.

It was hot, it was humid, but not terribly so. Merely uncomfortable. That didn't stop the grumbling.

With a pulse of his Awareness, Fritz could feel the Stairway in that sealed door's direction, along with the trilling of many traps. There were even some right there in the room with them.

He spied the valves and levers suspiciously, then approached them cautiously. As his Awareness had warned him, most of them were traps, with only two of the wheels not responding at all to his senses.

Barge walked up to one of the levers, reaching out.

"Stop!" Fritz ordered, though he wasn't the only one who had noticed.

Toby had darted into the thug's shadow and wrenched him away.

He spun, attempting to strike Toby with a wild backhand. It was easily dodged, then a dagger was at the idiot's throat.

"What?!"

"What do you mean what?" Toby seethed. "What do you think you're doing? This is a Spire. Don't touch anything without the Scout's say so. You fool. Do you want to be dead?"

"Alright, I get it," Barge growled.

"Do you? Are you sure? Maybe I should leave a lasting mark," Toby threatened.

"Yeah, maybe you should," Bucket agreed.

"Don't hurt my brother," Trudge warned, his face still covered in sweat from the climb. He hefted his hammer.

"That's enough," Fritz said sternly. "Blades, put down the dagger for now."

"Fine." Toby pulled his blade away, then sheathed it with a murderous glare at the thug. "I'm watching you." He signed.

Barge scowled.

Fritz paid it no mind, then walked to one of the safe wheels. He grasped it and turned it slowly.

With clanks and thuds, half of the thick rods that secured the doors in place retreated into their housings. The next of the wheels released the other half. Fritz idly wondered how one would figure out the right valves and levers to unlock the door without Trap Sense. Then he discarded the thought; it wasn't important.

"And that's why you should let the Scout scout," Fritz proclaimed. "Nail, open the door."

"It's not dangerous, is it?" he replied.

"No," Fritz said. "Though I can't be expected to do everything, now can I?"

Nail trudged over to the circular bronze door and pulled on its handle. It swung open with barely a sound.

The next room was almost identical, save for the placement of wheels and levers and the addition of chains hanging from the roof. Again, most of these objects were trapped, with only a couple of true mechanisms.

While these confounding variables may have slowed a team that had to rely on solving whatever puzzle governed the locked doors' logic, they had no such trouble. Fritz, through his Trap Sense, could unerringly find the correct combination of levers and chains to pull or wheels to turn. His Awareness also allowed him to activate them in the right order with its various nudges and obscure intuitions.

The cylinder beyond was, again, almost the same, and so it went for a total of six separate rooms.

Then they found themselves before the Stairway, locked behind one last door. This one had the most complex combination they'd come across so far, but was foiled near instantly. They were up and out before nine minutes had passed.

It was easy, and the pace they set was such that the threatening rumbling of water he'd heard before had no time to catch up to them. Fritz was glad they'd had a simple trap floor, and he'd solved and survived it without complication. Even Nail's grumbling had been quieted from the supreme show of complete competence.

The Well Room above was a high-domed room of bronze, and in its centre, radiating power, was a glowing sphere of glass, shedding the blue-green light of the twisting fire inside it. Fritz basked in the familiar warmth, feeling it on his skin and in his Sanctum. A curious sensation, one that made him want you loose his Eldritch Flame, if only to test it.

He shook his head, pushing away the errant desire. Fritz knew it wasn't his own, or rather, it was, but it was influenced by the eerie fire.

"Damn!" Clover cried, stomping once, then stalking away to kick the wall. It rang dully. "Damn. Damn. Damn."

Apparently, she wasn't offered the Healer Path she was aiming for. Conversely, both Barge and Trudge seemed pleased with their own Paths.

"I'm a Swordsman! Yes!" Barge burst out.

"St-st-stone Elementalist!" Trudge stammered.

"Hahaha! What great luck!" Barge said, wrapping an arm around his brother. "We did it!"

"And so easy, compared to last time." Trudge shuddered at his recollection.

"Alright, alright, congratulations," Fritz said, smiling proudly. "Choose your Abilities swiftly while I pick the door."

"Yes, Captain!" they both said eagerly.

Nail and Bucket watched the exuberance with ugly expressions.

If Fritz hadn't been sure about ending the two before, he would have been convinced then. He shared a meaningful glance with Toby, who nodded grimly. He would be ready when the time came. For now, they'd have to wait.

He made his way to the next three Doors, only to feel a mysterious breeze, one not originating from the obvious ways up. Excitedly, Fritz followed the wind. Stopping under a grate set into the domed roof. It was one of three such grates, though it was the only one that had anything unusual about it.

Fritz pulsed his Awareness, and sure enough, there, above his head, was the faint impression of a Door.

"Anyone have a rope and a grappling hook?" Fritz asked.

"Thought you were pickin' the next door," Reed said.

"I think there might be a hidden one right up there," Fritz said, pointing.

"A Hidden Door? Really?" Reed said.

Fritz nodded, and the thief quickly opened his pack and looked for what he had asked for.

"What's behind it?"

"I need to be closer to find out," Fritz said, suspecting the grate was shrouding part of the Door's presence from his Senses.

"The roof's a strange place to put a Door," Reed commented.

"It is meant to be hidden," Fritz retorted.

"True as the rain," Reed said.

Soon, the man produced a thin, smooth rope and a light hook made of iron, then tied them together. Fritz took them, then launched the hook high. It caught upon the grate on the first attempt. There was some small applause, to which Fritz bowed.

He pulled the rope, and it seemed lodged in place solidly, so Fritz began to climb. Halfway up the grate creaked, then popped out from its frame. He fell as the grapple came loose, then he struck the ground. He rolled out of the way, and metal clanged on metal as the grate crashed down where he had been only a moment before.

This time, there was no applause, but there were some sly grins. Fritz cursed as he rose to his feet, ignoring them. He took up the grappling hook and threw again, catching the rim on the now uncovered hole.

He tested the rope more thoroughly this time, then again attempted an ascent. It was easy enough all told, and he soon felt impressions flow from the Hidden Door.

A fort of stone brick, high on a mountaintop. Cold and bleak, patrolled by tall Man-alikes in iron plate armour, wielding great axe-like spears in thick, greyish hands. They guarded something, likely Treasures. Or at least that's what his Door Sense implied.

Fritz slid down the rope, thoughtful.

"What did you see?" Reed asked.

"It's cold. Stone. Like that of a castle," Fritz said cryptically.

"Castles have knights," Toby said sagely.

"Also a vault," Bucket added greedily.

"Quite," Fritz agreed.

"So we'll be going through that door then?" Nail asked.

"I have to check the other Doors," Fritz said. "Then I'll decide."

Although he was eager to experience another hidden Floor, he didn't know if he trusted this crew with its added difficulties or odd requirements. Casting aside his doubts for now, he inspected the three normal Doors.

One surfaced within a forest, a burning forest from the smell of smoke and the heat that wafted out of the stony hole.

The next was wet, dripping with seawater. Just from looking, he could tell it was an underwater floor. Ruins at the bottom of a sea or lake, if he guessed correctly.

The third was of smooth stone, the steps narrow and straight. His Door Sense was most useful here, as there was little else to observe. No smell, or air, or cold, or warmth. Inside, he had the impression of stillness, seemingly endless, silent square halls. There seemed to be no danger, but he knew it would take a long time to navigate.

He stood there, arguing with himself, weighing speed against greed against safety. He turned his gaze on the crew. They all glanced at the Hidden Door, eyes full of wonder and avarice. It made sense, only he had ever been through one before, so the others must have great expectations for what lay within.

They were right to think so, of course. Great things could be found on the other side of a Hidden Door.

Temptation warred with pragmatism until he let his own curiosity triumph.

"Hidden Door it is," Fritz stated. "It will be deadly, though I suspect there is much to gain. We leave in fifteen minutes, eat a bit and drink a bit before we ascend."

They obeyed.

"Oh, and one last thing, if any of you new Pathers want to leave, do it now. You won't get another chance until the sixth-floor Well Room," Fritz said.

"No chance, not with a Hidden Room to loot," Barge said.

Trudge nodded in agreement.

Clover was hesitant. "If I go, won't you suffer the Spite?"

"Don't worry about that," Fritz said. "I'd rather suffer the Spite than Climb any further with someone who doesn't want to continue."

And it would solve our Bucket and Nail troubles, he thought.

"I heard you can get rare Abilities and Traits from Hidden Rooms. Is that true?" she asked.

"True as the rain," Fritz stated surely.

Clover thought hard, then came to a decision. "Alright. If I can't be a Healer, then something rare is good enough."

Fritz smiled in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "I'm sorry to hear that you didn't get what you wanted. What did you end up choosing, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind you askin'," she said quickly. "I'm a Pulveriser,"

"Never heard of it," Fritz admitted.

"Me either," she said.

"Better than a Rat Cleaver," Fritz joked.

The woman winced.

"Ah. Sorry," Fritz said. "I forgot that it must have been hard on you."

"Yeah, it was," she said. "But I'm out now. Thanks to you." Clover tried to smile, but tears were welling in her eyes. "Excuse me." She rushed away.

"How do you do it, Fritz?" Toby asked, slinking to his side and smirking.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Fritz said dismissively, absently straightening the cuffs of his sirensilk shirt.

"You and crying women. Wherever you go, there they are," Toby mocked. "It's got to be a Trait."

"I'll have you know it's not just women," Fritz stated haughtily. "Bert said as much."

Toby chuckled, but spoke no further.

Fifteen minutes later, they delayed, waiting a little longer. The new Pathers were still picking their Abilities and Traits, and as it was an important set of choices, he allowed them more time.

Bucket brought out a deck of cards, and they played some rounds of poker to pass the minutes away. Fritz fared well in the games, winning nearly six gold triads from the other participants. He didn't collect right away, saying he'd gladly receive them once they were at the Precipice.

It earned him back some goodwill, though not enough to truly change any minds.

Once all the Pathers had chosen their new powers and everyone had made ready, they climbed the thin rope. Up, up up, into a small, stone-brick tunnel. Then they crawled on hands and knees like rats. Half an hour of scurrying later, they surfaced in a small room filled with wooden crates and barrels. Likely a store room of some kind.

It was then that a chill went down Fritz's back and a terrible, insidious voice spoke into his Sanctum.

"Be welcomed, Climbers," The Spire hissed.

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