The Proven sat around, nursing their bruised bodies. Rolfe’s left eye was swollen shut, and Helga’s grin showed a missing tooth. Both of Dunar’s eyes were bruised and purple.

  “From a distance, you look like a Raccoon,” Mikal joked.

  The Healer was the only one to come out unscathed. He was currently utilizing the Life aspect to mend fractured bones and heal other injuries the Proven got from their recent brawl.

  “We could have used your help,” Dunar replied and winced in pain to nurse his ribs.

  “Ya, Micky! Jezie was also your teammate!” Helga exclaimed.

  “Stop moving. It’s harder for me to heal you if you keep moving,” Mikal admonished.

  Rolfe chuckled. “We put up a good fight! I didn’t realize Carl Jorgenson could hit so hard.” The large Protector shook his head and asked in a quieter voice, “Do you suppose they will ever forgive us?”

  “For what?” Dunar asked. “We stood up for our principals. We did nothing wrong.”

  Rolfe scratched his blonde hair and responded, “Orn looked plenty mad.”

  “Ya, but he also enjoys a good fight. He seemed fine to me afterward,” Helga observed.

  Mikal glanced up and saw a group approaching them. He shook his head and muttered, “Oh great.”

  Dunar lifted his head and slowly turned, while nursing his ribs, and he saw a group of Iron Fist soldiers marching toward them. He recognized Alcard among them. Dunar’s joy at seeing a friend was short lived when he noticed the looming presence that followed the soldiers.

  “Isn’t that Manfeld the Elite?” Rolfe asked.

  “This can not be good,” Mikal said and added, “I don’t know if I will have the energy to heal you all a second time.”

  Helga looked up, and a wide smile broke out on her swollen face. “Hail! Friend Alcard! I am glad to see you well, ya!”

  The Templar’s face was grim, but he nodded to the warrior maiden and to the rest of the Proven. The Iron Fist soldiers fanned out to surround the Proven. Helga’s smile faded away.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Dunar growled as he stood up.

  Mikal glanced around and noticed that he could not slink off like before. With a sigh, he used his spear to stand up.

  “Hail Proven,” Alcard greeted. His dark eyes surveyed them before he asked, “We just want information.”

  Mikal rolled his dark eyes and said, “Let me guess. You are looking for Jeze.”

  “You have information, you best share it now,” Manfeld demanded. The towering bearded Elite stepped forward.

  Rolfe stood up, and the two were the same height. The Ironfist High Cleric sneered at the Frostsworn Protector. Rolfe gulped loudly but stood his ground.

  “She is long gone,” Dunar replied.

  “Where?” Manfeld demanded.

  “We do not know, and even if we did, we would not tell you,” the Proven Leader answered.

  Manfeld’s beard bristled and his eyes narrowed. “I should punish you for your insolence,” he growled.

  Mikal requested, “Can we let them recover from their first punishment?”

  The Elite turned to look at the Healer and growled in a rumbling deep voice, “Maybe a firmer lesson is needed, because it appears you have not learned the first time.”

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  Mikal wilted before the High Templar’s intense glare. He held up two hands as if to ward off any blows.

  “Save your lessons for one of your own. Leave these pups to us,” Orn’s voice boomed.

  The Berserker was running back from the Wasteland and was followed by the seven Carls that had beaten the Proven earlier.

  Manfeld growled, “What’s that supposed to mean, Berserker Orn?”

  “Lady Kalina is one of yours, correct? She also ran off with the Hold Core. That is what you are looking for, am I right?” Orn replied, his blue eyes twinkled.

  The Ironfist High Cleric shook his head. “I should have dealt with Lady Kalina when we first discovered her affliction.”

  “Yea, well, what you should have done or could have done does not matter now, huh?” Orn asked.

  “I do not like your tone,” Manfeld growled.

  His voice rumbled deeply, and Rolfe and Helga felt the need to take a step back. But Orn’s grin showed that the Frostsworn Berserker was unperturbed.

  “Not many do, I’m afraid,” he replied.

  Manfeld shook his great bearded head. “Where have they gone?”

  Orn motioned in the direction he just came from and answered, “We ran all the way to the edge of the Wasteland and could not find them. We hear that they might have entered the forests and are long gone by now.”

  “Jezie was our fastest runner,” Helga observed with a smile.

  Mikal’s dark eyes widened when he saw another group approaching them. “Only Jeze could attract the attention of so many Elites,” the Healer muttered.

  The Ironfist soldiers turned to face the newcomers and they gripped their spears. The new group were the sun kissed people from the Tribal Council. At their head was a lean man of average height. He wore feathers in his shoulder length gray hair, and his bare arms were sinewed with muscle.

  “Looks like we are having a party. Should we break out the mead?” Orn asked with a deep chuckle.

  Manfeld scowled at the Berserker before greeting the newcomer. “Hunting Hawk,” he said with a slight bow.

  The Tribal Council Elite nodded back.

  “It appears we have joined the hunt late,” Hunting Hawk spoke in a voice that was soft like the wind.

  “Aye, you did. Word has it that Prince Rodger already hired the Grinning Death Guard to track the two young women down,” a new voice spoke.

  Everyone turned to see a short wizened bald man covered with Rune tattoos. It was as if he materialized out of the air and Helga let a noticeably loud gasp.

  “Zen Fu,” Manfeld greeted with a scowl under his thick black beard. He added, “I figured the Prince would have acted first by throwing money.”

  “Grinning Death Guard, hmm, those are formidable mercenaries,” Hunting Hawk acknowledged.

  He appeared unsurprised by the sudden presence of another Elite. The Tribal Council elder nodded to his colleagues. They were lean men and women with high cheekbones and sinewy bodies. One of them let loose a piercing whistle before they ran off toward the Wasteland. Manfeld glared at Hunting Hawk.

  “What are you doing?” The High Cleric demanded.

  “I have sent my own hunters,” Hunting Hawk replied, and he walked away without saying another word.

  Zen Fu snickered. His narrow eyes glinted with mirth. Dunar noticed that he was the only Elite that arrived without an entourage. Did he already send his own hunters after Jeze? The Proven Leader hoped that she remained safe.

  Manfeld’s beard bristled with frustration. He turned to Alcard, “What are you waiting for? Get out there and find her!” Manfeld roared.

  “Sir?” Alcard took a step back.

  “You have your orders Templar. This girl remains in the Ironfist Kingdom. Our Kingdom! Use whatever resources you need to find her and bring the Hold Core back to me!” Manfeld demanded, his face turned red behind his thick black beard.

  Alcard nodded to the soldiers around him, and the group marched off with the sound of jingling armor. Orn chuckled deeply.

  Zen Fu joked, “You are slow to respond as usual, Manfeld.”

  The Iron Fist Elite glared at the smaller man before he stormed off. Zen Fu chuckled. His eyes glinted with mischievousness. The old Elite winked at the Proven before walking away with his cane.

  “That old man is much more than he seems. I believe he sent the Shadow Shinobi after Jeze. That young girl has her work cut out for her,” Orn observed.

  “Shadow Shinobi?” Helga asked.

  “Aye, secret spies and assassins that work for the Jade Principality,” Orn answered.

  “Ya? Our Jezie needs to be careful. I hope she is able to stay safe,” Helga said with a deep sigh.

  “She is capable. I wouldn’t wager against her,” Orn said.

  “We won’t go after her,” Dunar stated.

  “I wasn’t ordering ya too,” Orn replied.

  Rolfe arched an eyebrow and asked, “Then what shall we do?”

  Berserker Orn slapped the large man on the shoulder. “There is a Spire to be conquered, no?”

  Helga grinned. “For glory!” She roared.

  “Hurrah,” all the Frostsworn chanted back.