The dusty training yard of the Tortilla Guild was quiet, save for the sound of crossbow bolts meeting wood. Jalapeño Cookie stood before a series of rotating targets. The massive crossbow she wielded seemed almost too big for her frame, yet she handled it with practiced ease.

"Focus, Jalapeño Cookie," she muttered to herself, the spicy aroma around her intensifying with her frustration. She was aiming for the smallest, most distant target: a tiny bell attached to a piece of wood.