Carrying Nokorin piggyback up the mountain path did have its disadvantages. With the adolescent's extra weight Rorik couldn't walk his fastest, and the effort sapped more of his energy than expected. Nevertheless, the sorcerer made no complaint or had any regret. If his delicate companion would be spared injury, the cost was negligible.

Yet despite the passenger on his back, they made steady progress. The mist around the Thorn's peak had dissipated and brilliant blue sky stretched over their heads. The pair was above the clouds now, but still had far to go before reaching the summit. And with it, hopefully, the dragon.

"How much further up until we reach the top?" asked Nokorin.

Rorik examined the path and the curving tip of the Thorn ahead, judging the distance.

"Hard to say," he said. "Day and a half? Maybe more? It depends on what tests Rainheart has left for any prospective visitors along the way."

"Tests? Do you believe they would do such a thing?"

"Oh, almost certainly. To climb a mountain is one thing, but not beyond the capabilities of any healthy determined person. For any potential acolytes, Rainheart needs a way to separate the worthy from the fools."

Ahead of them, a loud roaring echoed across the rocks. Faint tremors vibrated the ground under Rorik's boots.

"I believe we've come upon the first of those tests now."

Continuing forward, he and his young companion came to the edge of a shallow pit, the rest of the road on the other side. The pit's occupant would be an obstacle to crossing though.

Within the depression, the pair beheld a vicious, hulking Montoon. Twice as tall as Rorik, it beat its enormous fists against the sides of its enclosure as it prowled about in a simian hunch. The sun glinted off its rubbery, hairless yellow skin. When the beast witnessed them approach, black bead eyes squinting with fury, it howled at the interlopers with a mouth of disturbingly human teeth inside its round, bulbous head.

At the sight of this ferocious animal, Rorik thought perhaps he made his judgment of Nokorin's father too swiftly. Scanning the area, he found no sign of the man's body. If he could pass through the Montoon unscathed, then the sorcerer had given him too little credit.

"Wait here Nokorin. This shall take but a moment," he said putting the youth down.

"Your confidence may be misplaced, sir Rorik. Montoons make quick work of men as strong as you, and this one looks particularly aggressive."

"Not to worry, my young friend," He said placing a hand on his companion's shoulder. "I have faced far more dangerous foes. If this is what I must overcome to win the dragon's treasure, then it shall be no issue for a spellcaster of my ability."

He flexed his other arm and winked.

Again, Nokorin regarded him with that expression of curious calculation and nodded. As Rorik leapt into the pit, they sat and hugged their knees to survey the bout. The sorcerer stretched out his muscles as he drew near the Montoon, unconcerned with the danger it posed. The beast sized him up as he came closer. A wiry, unimposing figure, even with his weathered chest plate and trailing scarf, Rorik appeared no match for his opponent.

Cracking his knuckles, he said, "Let's start with something classic, shall we? Arcane Arquebus! Firwerk Bur!"

Rorik's cuirass lit up with mystical power. With a flick of his wrist, a ball of shimmering energy shot from his hand. The globe of light listed through the air in front of his challenger, who stared at it curiously. The Montoon held up one finger to touch it when the sphere burst in its face, a flash-bang right in its eyes.

Reeling in pain, the brute covered its eyes from temporary blindness, but recovered fast. It pounded the ground with its elephantine fists and charged Rorik. The sorcerer rolled to his left, dodging the creature's punches and danced around the makeshift arena, peppering his foe with more bolts of magic.

Each struck the Montoon, drawing brief grunts of pain. It shrugged them off and continued the offensive. Swinging at the spellcaster, it managed only to strike the hard stone where he had stood seconds before.

"Dodging's fun, but let's get another hit in, eh? Reflect! Firwerk Bur!"

He swiped his hand up, raising a curtain of gleaming energy to act as a shield, and pushed it forward.

The Montoon roared and threw another punch. But the moment its knuckles struck the shimmering barrier, the savage creature staggered back cold-cocked, like it had just punched itself. Rorik smirked at his spell's effectiveness.

As the beast faltered, he glanced over at Nokorin, still sitting at the pit's edge. The youth looked as unimpressed as ever. Enthusiastic or not, Rorik needed to keep the Montoon's attention away from them. If their father's assessment were correct, the adolescent would splinter under the beast's fists. Best to subdue it quickly and move on.

"All right my large foe. I've enjoyed the exercise, but our little spat is over."

The guardian of the pit stood nearby, trying to rub the confusion out of its brain. Rorik sauntered toward his subdued opponent, assured of victory.

"How about a nap, eh?" he said. "That should do you some good. Sleep, Firwerk Bur."

Dark blue light emanated from his hand, coming off in smoky trails. He made to touch the creature's forehead and harmlessly send it off to slumber. He didn't expect it to seize his wrist.

"Huh?"

The Montoon yanked him close and screamed in his face, spittle and foul breath blowing out like a gale. Rorik had barely a moment to react before his foe thrashed him up and down rag doll style, slamming the sorcerer into the ground over and over, then tossing him into the pit's side. He crashed right under the spot where Nokorin sat.

The youth peeked over the edge at his companion. "Would you like some assistance, sir Rorik?"

"No, I have the situation in hand. A change in tactic is all I need," said the spellcaster as he stood, battered but still breathing.

Putting the Montoon to sleep was no longer an option. He would need to restrain the creature in some way instead, keep it from attacking him or Nokorin. In his estimation, that was the only way for him to get them across the pit safely.

Wiping away a bit of blood from his nose, Rorik re-entered the fray. His brutish opponent reared up and beat its chest, daring him to attack again. He was glad to oblige.

Rushing forward, sigils flaring around his fists, he feigned a hard punch. When the Montoon raised its forearms to block, the nimble spellcaster slid under him. Coming out the other side, he made a half-circle with his arms.

"Sons of the storm, strike my foe! Firwerk Bur!"

A bolt of lightning arced from his hand along his outstretched limbs and shot into the Montoon's back, making it howl in shock.

It spun around to slam its knuckles into Rorik. But with another rolling dodge, he avoided the blow and threw dirt into the beast's small eyes. It scrabbled in its blindness, trying to clear its vision. Pouncing on the opening, the sorcerer back flipped into a bicycle kick that caught his opponent under the chin. He heard the sick crack of its teeth crunching.

His blows had drawn some blood, but the beast was now furious. It swung its huge hammer-like fists with no rhyme or reason, lashing out in animal rage. Rorik cast another quick spell, blanketing the pit in white smoke. The Montoon failed to hit him through the obfuscation and bellowed its frustration to the sky. At the arena's opposite end, Rorik leapt backward out of the haze. With a snap of his fingers the cloud vanished, and the creature stared up dumbstruck.

The sorcerer threw his hands down, palms flat and parallel to the floor, and cast.

"Slumbering souls of the soil, turn this ground to mud! Firwerk Bur!"

Arcane energy pulsed out and the arena's bottom became a slurry. The rubber-skinned brute lost its footing and slipped, crashing onto its back. The mire sucked its hands and feet under. Just what Rorik wanted.

Acting fast, he bound his adversary across the chest with a chain of pure magic then with another flourishing gesture, hardened the sludge into clay around its limbs. All before his feet touched the ground.

Upon landing, he examined his trapped foe. It struggled against its bonds, bellowing at him again, but appeared restrained. Rorik allowed himself a sigh of relief.

He beckoned to Nokorin. "Come along now, my young friend. We can be on our way. There's no more-"

Mid-sentence, the Montoon's hand flew up still encased in stone. Slamming down on the relaxed sorcerer.

"-Danger."

Rorik jumped back at the last minute, avoiding the blow by a hair. With the loss of concentration, his spell dispersed and his magic chain snapped apart. The Montoon ripped its other limbs out of the ground and bashed them together, shattering the makeshift magical cement. Snatching the ends of Rorik's scarf as he retreated, it whipped the sorcerer against the high mountain walls. The beast lashed him several times over on the rocks. Now woozy, Rorik didn't respond when his foe dangled him in front of its mouth and screamed in his face again. Then with a casual brutality, the pit animal tossed him back where Nokorin still sat.

The battered spellcaster groaned in pain at his companion's feet. He tasted blood and wished it were strawberry jam. Thankfully his cuirass had spared him much of the damage, the advantage of having your tool for casting spells also be armor, but he was still far from his best. The creature was proving a greater challenge than his skills, strong as they were, could match.

But if he did not defeat the brute, the path up the mountain would remain blocked. Rainheart's secrets would stay out of his reach, his legend would die here, and Nokorin would not reunite with their father. That man had found a way past the dragon's chosen guardian. But how?

Rorik slid up the pit side, coughing, and clutched his right arm. A thousand shards of pain shot through it, broken for sure.

In his moment of respite, his companion leaned into the pit. "You are remarkably durable, I will give you that. If doing so does not offend you, sir Rorik, may I make a suggestion?"

"I'm all ears, my young friend."

"You might be going about this the wrong way. If the dragon set this up as a test, as you said, ask yourself. How is he testing you?"

"Well, that's obvious. To continue on, I must defeat this beast. It's a test of strength," said the sorcerer.

The unimpressed look returned to Nokorin's face, and they sighed. "If you say so."

Furrowing his brow at the youth's response, Rorik turned his attention back to the arena. His foe threw up some dirt from the floor and hooted in primate intimidation. Being down an arm, he needed to think carefully about his next move.

He tried to strategize, tried thinking of any spell or tactic that might allow him victory. But victory was not what he needed, passing through was. The seed of Nokorin's point took root in the sorcerer's mind, and he realized how he was actually being tested.

Taking a deep breath, Rorik stepped toward the Montoon. His legs shook a bit, but he stayed upright. The beast eyed him with caution. Letting his arms hang at his side (not that he had much choice with his broken right), palms out, he moved deliberately to show he was no longer a threat.

Once he came close, the sorcerer sank to his knees and held his hands out before the creature.

"Mighty Montoon, I apologize for striking you. I misunderstood my purpose here. Please forgive me. I humbly ask your permission to pass."

The immense yellow brawler raised one huge hand. Rorik braced for the worst. No strike came though; the Montoon instead patted him gently on the head. Looking up, his erstwhile enemy shot him a wide grin full of teeth then helped him up.

The white-haired spellcaster sniggered at his own obtuseness. How foolish of him to not think of something as obvious as simply asking to pass. The guardian animal joined him in laughter.

"Yes, my former foe. I am a fool. For only prideful fools make simple tasks more difficult."

The beast snickered again and clapped him on the back, knocking the wind out of the sorcerer. As Rorik recovered, it moved to the pit's edge and gave Nokorin a hand in.

"Perhaps your wisdom may yet match your legend, sir Rorik. Few would back away from the challenge as you did." The youth rubbed the Montoon's bare head as they spoke.

"I won't live long enough to garner a legend if I can't put my pride aside, Nokorin. Shall we be on our way?"

"Hold for a moment."

They tore away a strip of their dark blue cape and made a sling for his broken arm. Rorik applied a small healing spell, but for all intents and purposes, his right was still useless.

"Can you continue?" asked Nokorin.

"I believe so. No sense passing the test only to turn back now, eh?"

The Montoon lifted them both out of the pit and up the mountain path they continued. The beast waved to them as they departed. Rorik waved back with his uninjured left, thankful for the lesson, and pondered what other challenges the dragon might have for him closer to the summit.