Vigil lazily made his way towards the center of the city, marked only by the peculiar marble spire which reached into the sky. No one truly knew how it got there, not even the royal lineage itself since it came from conquered land, but by the same coin, no one admittedly cared either. Farmers and merchants aren't paid to speculate on the nature of a tower. However, the spire brought tourism which in turn brought business, allowing Linden to flourish and not descend into the broken cities of the south - their walls continuously breaking under violence or neglect.

The pathfinder's eye's darted across the winding backstreet - looking for the landmarks to guide him to his destination. Finding his way to the training ground, just as the last light was disappearing over the mountains, he made out four pairs of figures fitting straw dummies. Seven of them were obviously guards shown by the insignia on their shield, their straight swords, and heavy chain mail armor, but the seventh was something else entirely.

He was taller than the average height of 5'8 but also lankier than one would expect. He wore leather armor only broken up the occasional steel plate covering a vital organ or the chain mail on his joints and neck. Instead of a shield and sword he carried a lengthy rapier - it's edging barbed and it's tip sharp. Adorning his head, covering the face, was a steel helmet which looked identical to the Linden soldiers except for the small but innumerable holes where the eyes lay.

"You have to be kidding me. I'm going to stab Maruccio when I get back to the guild. Tricking me into training a damn Northerner".

While not particularly racist he simply had no wish to teach someone as needy as those from the north. Not like he had a choice anymore, he had accepted the job and would see it through to the end, but he could feel himself recoiling at the thought of the constant complaining about food, or beds, or whatever else they didn't find up to par. With a heavy sigh escaping his lips he made his way towards the man, but stopped as he saw the man was about to spar. Smiling Vigil sat down, now if only he had something crunchy to eat.

***

Cronk had traveled to Linden for the better part of a month now with the goal of becoming a pathfinder, or more specifically to gain the knowledge they had about the environment. While knowing about the environment wasn't particularly useful if he used the information correctly it would boost him, leagues, ahead the rest of the candidates. However, the trip wasn't without risk. With him being so far away he wouldn't have as much contact with the council or the libraries of information back home. If this trip were to come out fruitless then he'd have to drop his candidate position.

He had waited in the training field for two hours before he had gotten tired of hitting dummies and requested a spar with one of the soldiers. A larger man whose build was hidden under their heavy armor. He didn't know if he could win against such an opponent, but it didn't really matter anyways. A general didn't have to be good at fighting they just had to be smart.

Making the short walk to his luggage he produced a dull practice rapier and moved into a stance. The fight was over quickly. The man's shield was able to catch the majority of his blows and even when he did land something it didn't even scratch the heavier armor. He might have won if he had pretended to be a worse fighter, baited him into overextending, and then shoving the rapier into the slit in the man's helmet, but that would've killed him.

Accepting his opponent's hand he patted the dirt of his clothing and gave the man a smile "That was a good duel. I wouldn't want to redo that in a real battle, though". About to ask the man for a rematch he heard a heavy cough behind him. Twisting his head Cronk was greeted by a middle-aged man with tan skin, much like those of the southern kingdoms. Brown hair curled slightly right above the man's eyes and leather armor, unlike his own, adorned his body. Sheathing his sword he turned around fully and saw the large Pathfinder insignia which sat on the man's right shoulder.

"Quite the display of prowess you have there. I was shaking in my boots" the pathfinder spoke staring Cronk directly in the eyes. "I assume you're the one who requested Pathfinder training?"

Nodding Cronk held the man's gaze, unblinking "Yes I did, but I was told it would take a few days to find someone willing to train me". He had planned to look around the city for the next few days trying to find a library or a food place which didn't feed its customer's pig feed, but that could wait - pathfinding was more important.

"Excellent" the man continued "My name is Vigil. I will be your trainer for the next two days and maybe even after that. Before we start I am required to warn you that the pathfinder program is not for everyone and very few people succeed. After one year of training, you will take a test and if you pass you will become a certified pathfinder. 10% of income will go towards training other pathfinders and paying for the guild's funds. Do you understand everything I just said?". It was blunt and to the point, if it weren't for the man's stare. The words seemed more like a challenge now.

Feeling the need to look away Cronk responded in turn "I understand". 'After all', he thought 'I don't need to take the te-'. A sudden ringing broke through his mind and caused Cronk to flinch back slightly and turn away from the pathfinder.

Stunned he turned back to face the pathfinder to see him already walking away "Hurry up, we're going to go catch some Uare".

Several questions passed through Cronk's mind as he jogged to catch up mostly 'At this time?' and 'What the hell is an Uare?'.