May Syna Smile on the East (Quest/Closed)

[Zandelia]

“You, Ximal, will do whatever I tell you to damned well do. I’m not having any market-like fiascos on this journey. And the first rule to fighting for a cause is to find out what you get for fighting it. Death is pointless if given for nothing, you of all people should know that! Leave the thinking to those as can do it as long as you use our Longhouse to sleep in” she snapped at him, his words regarding her mannerisms barbing her to a retort.

Though his words do not stop him from being right. An odd collection of people for a journey, and very much slanted towards fighting. Yet the matter has not been raised, which is…unsettling she thought to herself shrewdly.

Zandelia found herself to be truly surprised for the first time in her short term memory, the additions to the party not at all what she would have thought to be on the list of those selected to be drafted into the band. Centroc was a wily spider as far as she could decipher him, his words and actions all for his own benefit and advancement. She was willing to believe that he may be tagging along to protect some form of investment – she alone owed him a number of favors for his misinformation – but she was not disposed to entertaining the idea that he wished to follow in their wake for their benefit alone. No, it was not his idiom at all. The clay vision of the miniature sparring master of Mister Pikkle seemed more apt, yet still suspicious. If she had thought that the mission they had been chosen for was dangerous before she now knew it to be a fact – something she was not at all comfortable with given the fact that it was hastily being cobbled together.

Reaction time seems to be of paramount importance, I wonder if they even know what lies ahead or if they merely hope that it will not be too taxing? she thought as she cast her single orb around those assembled for a few moments, aware that their eyes were all upon her. Why she had been given the position of deciding she was unsure of – she was not truly the leader here, not where the citizens of the Spires were concerned.

“I do not quibble over money my clay compatriot, merely other’s lives. The money earned will not even be going to me but to the Crimson Edge. I have n monetary stake in the Spires – I did not even decide to come here,” she told them quietly, calmly, “but those under my charge are more precious to me than even that” she continued, her gaze coming to rest upon Shurk now.

“If they die because of other’s stupidity then I shall take more than money, you can count on it. As for if they die by their own, then it was their time,” she finished as she came to stand with her arms crossed in front of the few Sunberthians, facing the others now.

She eyed Centroc warily, wondering how much he knew about her in actuality, or if he merely guessed most of what he thought. She had taken great pains to reveal nothing of her past but could not always rely upon others tongues to be still, as Ximal had so easily shown in his flippant remarks about her nature. She would assuredly have a quiet word with him at some point, but it was not the time to do so then, not in front al all eyes. As for Sahashkalila, she knew the woman would not reveal her secrets – she respected privacy above most things she knew. It was only natural, given her mostly hidden state of existence. Zandelia was not sure how many knew her true race, that of the Dhani. She at least could count on the other woman for support if needed, upon some matters at least. It was then she knew she was perhaps out of her depth. She was no warrior, no strong muscled barbarian to beat her foes into submission. She used subtlety and guile where possible, avoiding conflict.

And conflict with such as these will kill me quicker than assent she thought, sadly.

“Fine, we go then, but we must know what we face and what you know. We cannot fight, in any way, without knowing all. Mercenaries we may be at the moment, but you cannot use us without being fully honest” she stated simply, though she knew that some things would inevitably be held back. She merely made a silent oath that if those secrets got her people killed she would slit a throat for each life lost – if she could.

“And I owe you enough favors already Centroc, I will repay them in kind if I can. I doubt I could turn the debt into profit in that area without extreme circumstances, but it is good to see that we have our very own spider at least” she looked him in the eye then, unashamedly forwards in her views.

“And our colored friend is right, no point in moving without purpose. What is it you would have us do on this journey?” she asked, reiterating the other’s words and keeping her gaze very firmly locked to the Jamoura, doing her best to read his manner behind his façade. Clues were often buried deep in one;s body language after all.

[Stigandr]

Zandelia was someone that Stigandr had not gotten to really know in his time of involvement with the Crimson Edge, but she spoke and acted with strength, no matter how real of fake, was enough put up the front needed. In the animal world, that is how it often is, making a lot of noise and bluster and showing confidence in a situation to force an opponent or challenger to back down as well as to assert your position and dominance. She had walked into the meeting of the called individuals and gotten straight to the point, making sure her ‘family’ would be taken care of. Though money and compensation was trivial to the Kelvic, especially in the beautiful surroundings of the Spires, he knew it held value to the others, most importantly to Sahashkalila. This attitude and the actions associated with it earned her considerable respect from the horse, creating an animalistic connection and adoption of her as one he would fight for without question now. Stigandr stayed silent as the events played out; first Zandelia stepping up, the Jamoura named Shurk who strode up and met Zandelia’s show of confidence and leadership, staring her down, the arrival of the cart with the driver, Centroc who nimbly jumped down and the new human Stigandr had not seen before, and lastly the tiny Pycon name Pikel. All things that gave Stigandr an idea of how severe this situation was that was coming. The Kelvic stayed calm as the leaders stayed calmed, though he was aware of some nervousness from Sahashkalila, feeling her step closer to him, their arms brushing. He looked down at her and met her eyes, then looked back up to glance around the group again, his hand sliding up to touch her back, gently stroking his fingers down her spine in a comforting manner. He noticed the man named Ximal was looking at him, a peculiar look in his eyes. Was this due to other things he was unaware of, or was he one of the few that found the nakedness that the Kelvics clothes themselves in uncomforting, or even rude and disgusting? Stigandr decided to keep an eye on Ximal, not trusting this man and how he carried himself or acted. This might change, but Stigandr did not expect to warm up to someone who could not accept him for who he was. The last of the group he had not really paid attention to was a man towering over him with skin that was a beautiful dark shade of violet. Stigandr had never met an Akalak and was not aware of who they were as a race. To him, this was an oversized man with an intriguing skin color. He spoke little and held himself with a manner of calm and readiness, similar to Stigandr but more…refined and trained. This ragtag group, comprised of a myriad of races, was getting ready to start a journey of unknown destination and unknown events along the way. Only one could be called a friend right away to the Kelvic, while a couple others had his respect and desire to help them, then the one who was distrusted by the Kelvic already, his animal instincts and senses discomforted by the way one man acted. This was going to be an interesting journey.

[Creeper]

Shurk smiled back at the one-eyed marvel, pulling back his lips in a sarcastic smile. "Trust me when I say this, if we honestly knew what we would be up against, we wouldn't be calling upon you. I can tell you a few details though, several of which should sound familiar to our Dhani companion here. Shortly after the Storm, we sent out a large expedition to the west of our city to seek out help from Karjin, Novallas, and perhaps Ravok or Mura. We received birds that a massive group was going to be returning with copious amounts of volunteers and supplies. However, only a fraction of that even reached our forest, and were cut down by an unknown enemy. We don't even know if the two incidents are related, and the only two survivors, alive thanks to Sahashkalila here, have yet to recover enough to tell us. We will be tracking the path they used to return, in hopes of finding clues to their disappearances, and if possible, finding the volunteers and returning home with them. We leave immediately." Shurk pointed to a large amount of human tracks and the like that ran between the group, tracks that had gone unnoticed by any of the group. Sahashkalila's eyes would begin to remember this area. It was where she had come across the myriad of dead bodies the season before, where so many lives blinked out of existence. The tracks could be followed by any amateur, so Shurk would be focused upon the details that weren't evident. "We followed these tracks for five days back and found nothing out of the ordinary, we will have to travel beyond that, beyond what we know. The Storm changed many things, we don't know what we will find. We travel until dusk, now lets move, there is a lot of ground to cover." ~~~~Ten Days Later~~~~ The group came across an extremely foreboding sight after several days of relatively uneventful travel. Tensions were high, many of the mercenaries feeling this was a very poor waste of time, and this appeared to be the straw that broke the mule's back. Before the group was a massive ravine. There was no river, as one may expect, at the bottom of such a slash in the face of Mizahar, just more unforgiving stone. Steep cracked sides, with many ledges tiered throughout the walls. But the worst part was the length of the ravine. It looked as if it went on for days and days in both the northern and southern directions. Master Pikkle was sitting upon a nearby rock, meditating as he always did when the group stopped, Centroc kept peering up and down the ravine, examining the length with those cunning eyes, while Shurk investigated the area. The only silver lining to all of this was there were several thick bushes heavy with blackberries that would provide some respite from the lean game meats and roots they'd been eating on this journey. And beneath one of these bushes was a glimmer in under Syna's gaze. Upon further investigating one of the group would discover a book that had many pages of rambling, clearly a journal belonging to somebody named Hethe. The last page with writing upon it read, "Spring 69, We managed to get the entire group across the ravine via the stone bridge. It truly was a godsend. The birds told our guides that the trip around the gorge would have added at least twenty more days to our trip. S'Vanka is still taking the loss of our group hard, and I worry for her, she's so sensitive to others emotions, and was shouldering them all herself. Should reach our home within ten days or so. I miss the peace and quiet, and the times with S'Vanka. She needs the relaxation of home, and soon, I fear her mind might break soon." There was no stone bridge any longer, and quick inspection by even novice eyes could tell where it used to be. Cracked stone, sharp, no erosion, and further in the ravine were several larger stones that looked out of place now that it was mentioned. After learning of the contents of the journal, Centroc decided to voice the obvious, "Do we walk around and waste all that time, or do we tempt the fates and make the climb down, and back up?"

[Zandelia]

The journey for Zandelia had been anything but enjoyable, the endless trailing coupled quite starkly with the fact that their guides – for want of a better definition – knew neither the lad nor the forces arrayed against them. She knew all too well how a select group f specialists could break apart and fragment a larger force with enough concerted strikes, however she was beginning to wonder if she had not signed up for something akin to suicide. She should have told them all to turn back before leaving the Spires proper, however it was far too late now – they were in deep, for better or worse. Her mind was not lethargic though, it worked at lightning speed as it made its observations. The trail had not been hard to follow, that had been true enough, but as they came upon a break in the landscape her single orb had learnt much n the way of tracking.

Little Squirrel is indeed a good, if unknowing teacher she thought to herself as she walked up to view the obstacle herself.

It was deep, dry and definitely wide in its jagged scarring of the landscape. In many ways it was an enjoyable break from the routine, in others it was something that poked her ember-like anger into a flaming rage. She cursed under her breath, her fists clenching and unclenching themselves as she felt the all too familiar feeling of tense jaw muscles as she grit her teeth for the hundredth time that same day. She placed her hands upon her hips as the situation, suddenly, became far too amusing for her not to laugh. It burst from her in rich chuckles as she tilted her head to the side, eyes beginning to moist. It was all too much, insanity knocking upon the door of her mind silently at the confluence of circumstance. She pushed her hood back then to let the wind whip her hair across her face as she closed her eyes, chuckles subsiding into checked giggling before ceasing completely.

“I think the gods hate us my friends,” she stated simply as a wry smile twisted her features finally, “who could know that walking into unknown lands, where we face unknown numbers of enemies and unknown troubles could lead to getting screwed harder than a tavern wench” she finished as she turned her back upon the ravine and let her pack fall to the floor. She extricated her water flasks and drank sparingly to wet her mouth more than sate her full thirst – she dared not waste supplies overly much.

“At least we have bushes to provide something other than bloody meat for once,” she growled as her sight took in the nearby berry bushes, “petch the ravine when we can get some juice from nature itself” she suited her words with action and began to pick some, placing many in the bowl created by the fabric of her flowing robes – now held in her hands.

It was as she was collecting that her foot hit something that did not feel like rock, root or grass to her at all. She knelt, her eyes probing for what she sought, what she had thought she had felt. It seem3ed, after a few moments, that she had imagined it. She began to stand back up to commence her searching, but t was the movement that brought it to her sight rather than the stillness. The color remained constant upon a background of shifting shadows – a book. She kicked it out from beneath the bushes before bending down to place it in her robes on top of the berries now. Returning to the members of the Crimson Edge she sat upon the ground, back leant against the rock that the ornament of Mr. Pikkle was using for meditation, and read its pages. She chewed upon the berries as they did so, the rich juices all the more pleasing to her palette for their recent absence. Her eyebrows rose as she came to the last pages and read.

“Looks like your dead group of searchers came across the same problems, I would suggest investing in maps from now on if I were you. Look, last pages,” she threw the book to Sahashkalila so that it could circle around everyone and be absorbed, “looks like the bridge is gone though, unless its hiding behind you Shurk” she chortled to herself as she mused upon the situation quietly, thinking through the possibilities – they were dire whichever way she worked them in her mind, puzzle pieces slotting together.

“I say we climb down,” she responded to Centroc simply, her words quiet but noticeably distant, as if thought out as they were spoken, “for a few reasons really. The first being that the bridge was here when the party passed and so has only recently been destroyed. One can assume that, seeing as almost everyone was killed, this was done to force anyone else in one single direction” she spoke softly.

“It would fit the remit of a bandit perfectly really, very clever. If you were wanting to corner a merchant – like our wily friend Centroc here – and their wagons of goods, then why not destroy it. Force them to go around and walk into your trap, as it were,” she continued.

“Second, taking the long way around, even if it has no enemies, takes far too long. By the time we get around any traces you are wishing to find will be further eradicated. Not to mention that, if there are survivors, their chances diminish by the hour let alone the week” she finished, eating the last of her gathered berries and pushing herself to her feet now.

“I have rope,” she pulled the items from the small of her back then and hefted it in her hand, “and I say we climb. What’s the point of heading into the wild if you don’t want to get a little adventurous?” she walked to the edge of the ravine to stand by Centroc and peer into its depths.

[Ximal]

The tireless charge of the group slowly came to a halt. Ten days of marching or rather travelling never helped the situation, with a group like this. What the stopped for became evidently apparent. A ravine, large enough to look like somebody had just taken a knife to the face of the world and cut a large slice into it. Xi could see nothing but empty space in-front of him, almost as if he was starring off of the edge of the map. Then laughing, strong hearty laughing, almost the laughing of a madman. Xi would know about that. Looking around to see the source it slightly worry him. Zandelia, had just started laughing at nothing. I think she's finally off her rocker. I mean it's about time but the one-eye'd wonder has finally lost it. Blotting out liro Xi looked at zand something about her was definitely off. Especially when she tarted talking. She was raving like a lunatic, and what was more to the point it was making Xi laugh a little internally. Still if he wanted to survive this, he'd need to self preserve, and fight now that meant not telling the fearless leader she was just ranting like an old man with stories. Xi took his water-skin up to his mouth and took a sip, little more than moisture for his dry throat. Tucking it back he stepped forwards to look over the edge with shurk. If they fell they'd be dead before they hit the ground. Pulling back from the edge Xi's gears began to turn, go down? Or go around? Either option was a bad one. Still if they climbed down the chance of death was slightly lower than if they went around. Xi listened to zand's proposals, bandits her having rope but he couldn't help but think of a few points which were strikingly obvious flaws in her plan. Now he'd need to voice up against the leader, he wasn't trying to take control but at least steer a bit of sense into the half-mad woman. Heading er to her he decided to have this little dispute of opinion in private. Standing next to her he spoke quietly, just loud enough for her to hear not centroc. "I agree with your plan of climbing down, it saves time and resources, however not all of the members of this party probably have any climbing skill. And on top of that, have you seen the stone is where thay bridge lies? The stone is thick, really thick, i don't know of anything other than a god which could break stone along such jagged edges. So i highly doubt a group of bandits would have been able to break it. Still even with those things in mind i agree with you, we don't have time to be wasting here. And i know you don't value my input and think i'm an idiot much like everyone else. Just know that I've nothing against you, and that comment back in camp, was aimed at shurk, to try and get a better read on him." Walking away from zandelia, Xi turned to shurk. If they were going to cross the ravine he'd like to know what was on the other side. Awww. Why spoil the surprise? It will be more fun popping up on the opposite side before finding out whats there to remove said head. Once again blotting out Liro, Xi looked at the big gorilla who was quite clearly leading the group. Xi spoke with an air of respect but also one of caution. "Shurk are there any bird kelvics with the group? I know you don't want to endanger your people, but if were going to be going down that ravine, would it not make sense to have one leading us from the air in-case we get lost, a and send a second to scout ahead to see what's on the other side? That is IF there is anything to be seen." Peering off over the edge again, Xi didn't want to be lost down there, even with the rations and supplies they had. Down there odds were they wouldn't survive long. Leaving shurk to think over his proposal, Xi headed over to saha, looking down at the content of the book. A diary or journal of some sort. This didn't bode well. Whoever this S'Vanka was, it seemed like she was standing where zand appeared to be at that moment, on the brink of madness. Preparing to jump. Xi adjusted his vambraces beneath his cloak out of sight. Thankfully he was already completely insane, liro was proof enough of that. Xi looked at the other members of the group, the purple mountain, and stigandar. Xi wasn't happy, simply looking at the purple men was making this situation seems some what, extrovert. If there were any bandits the people her could dispatch them without much effort, but it was still discomforting that so many fighters were needed. The fire in Xi's eyes changed into sand, weighing the opportunities against the possibilities. Xi felt his hand flex out of instinct. Something wasn't sitting right.

[Sahashkalila]

Kalila had been troubled as they traveled through the wilderness, her mind continuously going back to the scene in the clearing that she had come across that passed season. The travel had been fairly uneventful, ten days on the road of following while she documented their surroundings, hoping to at least keep track of what they encountered. Her patience was wearing rather thin though with no results until now, a large ravine stopping their progress as the group halted. She did not mind the halt, she was hot and tired and grateful for the brief rest, even if it wasn't the most comforting one. She set her pack down on the ground and shrugged off her cloak, rolling up her shirtsleeves before grabbing her waterskin for a quick drink.

She glanced around the group, taking in many of the frustrated faces before her eyes fell on Stigandr, giving him a quick smile before she headed over to the berry bush that Zandelia was at and picking a few for herself, popping them into her mouth and turning to look at the broken bridge. It was obviously not worn with age, the stones looking freshly cut...which was odd. She could not think of any way for the bridge to just collapse....and she then looked over at Centroc, her eyes narrowing. Perhaps it was done...creatively? In a way none of them could have foreseen? She didn't have long to think about it because she was suddenly tossed an old book by Zandelia, causing Kalila to drop the berries she was holding in her hands as she caught it. She frowned at the woman before she opened it, examining the contents as the others gathered around her to read what was inside.

It was the journal of the Jamoura that she had saved, and she read the last entry with a sense of dread settling into her stomach. Twenty days to get around the ravine....or they could climb down. She was not a fan of heights, especially since she could fall to her death if she tried to climb down...but then again she did not want to take the time to go around, not knowing if there were people that needed her. It would not sit well with her if other people died because she was a little uncomfortable about something. With that thought in mind, she snapped the journal shut and walked back over to her pack and cloak, picking both of them up and going to the edge of the ravine. She set her pack down next to her and sat down, her feet dangling over the edge as she sat close to Zandelia and Centroc. She then began to examine the contents of the journal, flipping through the pages of drawings and notes as her mind turned. "You know.....it sseemss that thiss bridge wasss taken down rather creatively....you wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you Centroc?"she asked as she looked through the book, her tone casual.

[Xalet]

To call Xalet quiet was an understatement. His silence was beyond that. The Akalak nearly never spoke a word unless directly asked something. Not to Zandelia, not to Ximal, not to Stigandr, not even to Sahashkalila. It had taken him a decade to open up to the people of Syliras, and now in this group of strangers he felt that familiar pressure once again. There was some difference, he was no longer the young and inexperienced Akalak from those times, but the uncertain pressure remained. His internal dialog was often taken up by Xuphim, and thus he was never truly alone. When the group stopped the Akalak took a moment to undo the buckles on his cuirass and allow some air to get into his torso. He could see several members of the group looking down at some recently located piece of text. A handy clue that apparently had some indication of exactly what they were up against with the deep ravine staring them all in the face. Xalet had some practice climbing, but he was no professional. The largest slab of luck that lay on his side was Xuphim not being the dominant soul for the time being. Brutish, cunning, and merciless as the man was, he still had his weaknesses. Women for one, and heights for two. He could hear the scarred woman's rationale, but something bothered him still. If the group was a target, why destroy the bridge after they successfully crossed? What happened after they crossed? Why was the journal left here of all places? "Yur thinkin' too much about it. What ya'll should be worried about is how a bunch of noodle armed motherpetchers is going to climb that ravine. That's not all, who's going to be the one to catch our giant ass if we fall? I don't like it, not one bit. Better to hustle for ten days." chimed Xuphim from the back of Xalet's psyche. Of course protest aside, the decision had appeared to have already been made. Still, Xalet at least had something to offer verbally for the first time in days. It wasn't guile or paranoia, it was simple battle tactics, drilled into him from a young age. "Destroying a bridge is a desperate act. In war, it is more valuable to seize a bridge as an asset." and that was it. He wasn't going to speculate any further. It could have been a natural act that took the bridge down, but too many slivers of information pointed in an opposite direction. "Unless a bridge has no value." the addition came after a long pause from the large purple-skinned Syliran. His hands were idly yanking the straps back through his buckles, tightening his cuirass back up after a short respite. He would prepare as best he could to climb, since that was apparently the direction the group was moving in. Still, Xalet kept a watchful eye for any additional tidbits that could aid them in understanding exactly what it was they were up against. Years of standing back and watching had given him a keen set of eyes.

[Stigandr]

Stigandr was tired of walking. Step after step dragged on, each hoof pressing into the soft soil and leaving another mark of their passing, or the seemingly endless journey they were on. He loved the forest. He loved the sound of the birds in the morning, the scent of trees, moss and wet earth, but on this trip, it had seemed quieter than was natural. Maybe it was the effects of everything that had happened since the Spring, maybe the animals could sense something, much the same way the Kelvic could feel a sense of foreboding, of something telling him to not go on. At these times he looked around at the group, especially Sahashkalila, and remembered that this was bigger than he was. He had found some semblance of a family, even if only a handful of these people could be considered that. The journey, for the most part, had maintained Stigandr as a horse so he could carry his stuff and easily eat anything they passed along the way, giving him some reprieve from the roots they had. He would not eat the meat at all and had to find some other source of food. As they approached what turned out to be a deep ravine with the remnants of what had been a bridge. Stigandr shifted from horse to human form, his gear falling to the ground as his body shrunk in size and the straps no longer fit to his body. He watched as the others moved about to look at the ravine, eat berries and read a book. Stigandr approached the ravine, a sight he had never seen before anywhere. His head peered over the edge, taking in the sight below him; shattered rocks, small ledges, jagged edges. That was the trigger. The stress, the tension, the feelings of foreboding, all culminated to this point and crumbled. Panic and stress overtook the horse at heart. He made an inhuman sound from his throat, animalistic in nature and a reminder of who he was, as he recoiled back and stepped away from the edge quickly, his feet stumbling over the roots and ground. He could hear the sound of a couple small rocks as they tumbled into the canyon, adding to his fear. The height, the lack of sturdy ground, the sight of something so immense and new that he was not trained to handle. It was too much. Stigandr backpedaled until he was close to twenty yards away from the edge of the ravine, his human eyes wide still and darting around as he shifted for the second time in less than ten minutes. His body was still tense, but was physically spent from insufficient food to fuel such a rush and two shifts that close together. His head hung down a bit as his chest heaved and expanded then deflated with labored breathing, slowly coming back down from the peak of his panic.

[Creeper]

Shurk ignored the comments and debates and began rounding up the ropes he, and the other travelers had brought. He kept looking over the side of the cliff, judging the distance to the bottom over and over. His massive hands worked tirelessly with complex knots. After each knot, he would pull hard with his strong Jamoura arms, the knots tightening, but proving to be stronger than him. He continued this until he had three long lengths, and wrapped one end of each around a forearm. He tossed the dangling ends into the ravine, and smiled as they stopped just above the ground level. He looked back over at his group, Master Pikkle, Centroc, Zandelia, Xalet, Ximal, Sahashkalila, and Stigandr. Ximal and Xalet were clearly the heaviest, Master Pikkle, and Kalila were the lightest. "Zandelia made up her mind. We climb, time is indeed of the essence, and risks must be taken. Xalet and Stigandr go first, followed by Ximal, Master Pikkle, and Zandelia, and Centroc and Sahashkalila bring up the rear. I will be able to support your weights, and then I will climb down after." Master Pikkle picked himself up and out of his meditation at Stigandr's outburst. He slowly strode over to the Kelvic, who would feel a hand on the back of his neck forcing him to his knees, then pushing his face down to Master Pikkle's eye level. Then the Pycon slapped him. Hard. "Calm yourself horse. You agreed to come on this mission, and now you are threatening its success and the survival of everyone here. Your friend, Sahashkalila, do you think she'll be in any state to help us if you cannot continue? Or if you aren't there to protect her? Swallow your fear pony. We aren't in the slums that you came from, this is the real world, and it's real petching dangerous. You have one choice. Go down the ropes. You cannot turn back, you cannot go around, you cannot give up, because if you do, we all die. She dies, I die, you die. You make me sick, I've met statues with bigger balls than you." Master Pikkle turned and strode away from the man over to Shurk, as the invisible pressure released Stigandr. Centroc was busy staring up at Syna's abusive rays, a hand shielding his eyes, which were squinting, searching. He mumbled something that only Zandelia heard, "...swear I saw a glint up there..." Shurk had his feet braced against a rock, "Xalet, Stigandr, you're first, let's get this going, you don't want to be climbing up the other side under Leth's smile do you?"

[Stigandr]

Stigandr could not explain the hand on his neck, nor the pressure of it pulling him down to the Pycon's eye level, but any confusion related to it was quickly removed as the clay man's hand struck Stigandr across the face with force enough to turn his headto the side, an intense pain engulfing his check. The ringing in his head plus the anger welling up inside drowned out the first sentence. The Kelvic turned his head back, a deep and aggressive noise emanating from his throat. His hand started to clench to strike out at the small man, but he refrained, remembering who this man was, that he was called Master for a reason and could probably incapacitate Stigandr without a moments effort. Gritting his teeth, he just listened to the rant from the Pycon. The words of threatening the group's success and of causing the death of Sahashkalila struck through to his heart, washing his angver away quickly. He did not want to hinder of hurt them, especially Sahashkalila. Steeling himself, he stood up and grabbed his pack, stepping around the group to the edge. He looked down and felt that momentary fear of falling again, but the lingering sting of Pikel's hand reminded him of his duty. Looking at Shurk then back to the rope and it's knots, Stigandr moved down to the ground, grabbing the rope at the first knot in his hand. How hard could this be? He had watch others do this before. Just grab at the knots right? Letting his feet slip down over the edge to the next knot, Stigandr gave one more glance to Sahashkalila, the vanished slowly past the edge, the rope going taut in the massive Jamoura's hands. Stigandr slid down slowly, taking much longer than any climber with experience would have, each time stretching his body out to go from one knot to the next. He could feelbthe burning pain running through his muscles as they were used in ways he had never used them. A couple times he had to stop, hanging onto a knot with his hands and letting his feet rest on small out croppings. As he reached the bottom, he moved away and fell to the ground, his hands, feet, arms and legs red from the rope and from scraping the rock wall on the way down. His body was covered in sweat as the Syna galred down on him. Leaning back agaisnt the cliff, he looked around wearily, seeing if there was any danger nearby as he took a drink from his waterskin and waited for the rest.