The market square was crowded with people of all age and size. Cameron bounced on his tiptoes, trying to get a look at the crier in the middle of the square.  The crier held a bell in his hand and beat a drumstick against it to make a loud ringing sound.

"Hear ye, hear ye," the crier announced. "The king is holding a contest." Cam nodded, he knew this.

"You see that tower over yonder?" The crier called to the crowd. Cam squinted at the horizon. He could make out a tall tower in the distance. "It contains a treasure worth a thousand of your meagre lives!" A collective gasp.

"He who is foolish enough to enter this contest stands a chance of winning what awaits in the tower!" Way to make people want to enter. "And, without further ado, if you wish to enter, head over to that guy over there." Some crier, though Cam as the crier gestured vaguely in the direction of a burly looking man standing by the entrance of the town hall. Men already flocked there, and women too, but they were turned away, muttering in disgust.

Without Cam's consent, his Cam's feet were moving over to the contest entries. The men who had entered were trudging into the town hall as Cam approached the burly man, who gave him a sneer. 

"It's your death, boy." He said, but Cam couldn't back down now. "Pick one!" Burly Man gestured to what had been a row of weapons, but all that remained was a blunt axe.

"That's all I get?" Cam asked, his voice coming out squeaky. 

"That and the clothes on your back." Burly Man growled. Cam lugged the axe over his shoulder, mentally shouting at his own stupidity, and headed into the hall.