The Rift - Part 2 - 11/17/2018
Last time we met, we felt it prudent to go to the Rift. Most of us felt the need to go, but one of us did not. She grudgingly agreed to go with us anyway; but if we did anything stupid or tried to take anything, she’d try to throw us off the airship.
We began our approach to the rift and the automatons and instruments on the ship started to go haywire. Thorin stopped the airship cold and we tried to fix the automatons. They worked for a time, but as we got closer, they all shut down.
Thorin and Armella monitor inside the helm room aboard deck. Outside, Ruby helps look from the port (left) side of the ship. Hikaru is off on the starboard (right) side as a lookout. Their tiefling friend hangs back, looking around from a good vantage point. Down below deck, Rodrick and Azandar man the engine room together, nervous of any hiccups.
Thorin comes over to look at an automaton latched on to the helm, frozen there from the malfunction. Armella walks up to it and back fists the machine in the face. It flies back and breaks into hundreds of pieces, freeing the controls for him to use.
Thorin takes the helm, and Armella takes the levers. As they start to steer, those up on deck peer out at the horizon. Ruby shades her eyes, but the blinding glare of the sun is shining off of the ocean. As we made our way carefully onward, Hikaru peers out using the scope on his rifle. About 20 miles out we see there is an opening entering… the Rift.
The tiefling points and says in his deep voice, “There.” Hikaru resounds his conclusion and they alert Thorin inside. “That’s where we need to go,” he calls to him. Armella and Thorin begin maneuvering the ship toward the opening, trying to gauge their distance to the water below by sight only.
It’s incredibly difficult to make a proper approach, and the wind from the salty sea begins to shift us slightly off course. By the time we reach the mountain, we’ve overshot our target. With the wind direction, we decide to find an easier entrance south of where we are, and toward our intended target. We swing our bearings around and after another 2 hours, we find ourselves in a small cove. With nowhere to go but up (higher than we could ever escape from), Thorin and Armella slowly swing the ship around.
Down in the engine, Rodrick and Azandar keep an eye on the new machinery. Azandar is still uncertain about this new type of technology, and monitors it with a questioning eye. Rodrick’s nose tingles, smelling something that reminds him of Firelord. Sniffing his way through the pipes and tubes, he finds a small exhaust leak.
He smiles. “Ahh... the smell of a fine congac... or cigar... or, ya know... toxic super-flammable fuel.” He drags over some clamps and binding, and starts patching it up.
Azandar watches in interest, letting the master do his work. He wipes the sweat off his brow, and takes a moment to look at his hands again. They are scarred from the time they were burned, but not as badly as they could be.
The rest of the engine seems to be running in top condition. Azandar and Rodrick observe the dials; the fuel levels remain nominal, with a consumption rate that is above average; as long as we don’t push the ship too hard, we should be okay for the rest of our journey.
Rodrick walks up to the talking tubes. “The engines are runnin’ fine now! Just don’t do anything crazy and we should be alright.” Thorin’s dwarvish voice echoes back down, “Good to know.”
We continue along the side of the cliff faces, making good headway. All seems relatively quiet until suddenly, from out of the corner of our eyes, we see a glint of something metallic. It pierces the side of the ship, and then several others follow it.
Upon closer inspection, what are stuck into the ship are crude looking spears. Connected to the spears are several ropes. Thorin mumbles, trying to steady the vessel, “Someone is trying to board us or pull us down!”
Suddenly, eight creatures, fishlike and ugly in appearance, begin shimming across the ropes. They have javelins slung over their backs, and they leap onto the deck of the ship. They grab their weapons and rush at those exposed on the deck. Below, those inside can hear footfalls thundering along the wooden boards overhead.
Rodrick and Azandar hear the noises and head off in different directions. Rodrick rushes down into the hold and flings his leather apron on the table. Swiftly grabbing a cane and revolver from a bedroom tucked off to the side, he transforms as he runs back to the deck with as much speed as he can muster.
Azandar runs up the stairs two at a time. Wanting to avoid the main exits, he heads to the cargo loading area. Coming to a grate door in the ceiling leading outside, he slams against it with his shoulder and swings his rifle out. At the sound of it one monster turns and, slobbering, rushes with his javelin extended toward Azandar’s face.
As he closes in, Azandar levels the barrel and fires. The shot rings out loudly against the high mountain peaks, and the bullet pierces right between its bulging eyes. He turns swiftly around to search for Ruby, and climbs out of the grate door, wincing at his shoulder.
Looking out from the bridge, Armella sees the fishlike beasts rushing at her friends. She quickly walks out, pushing the door aside at her exit, and swings her morning star with deadly accuracy. Her weapon makes contact with the first creature and, with a crunch, sends it flying backwards and clear off of the deck of the ship.
Three of the slimy creatures swarm up to the tiefling, finding him the largest and most threatening target to take out. They jab with their weapons, failing to make contact as the warrior moves aside. One lunges forward with his javelin, rage in his eyes, striking the weapon down across the large man’s torso. Contact! But… the warrior just slowly eyes him, the blood barely dripping from the shallow wound and mixing with his red skin.
Hikaru guards himself eloquently as two strike out at him. Using his rifle, he blocks the hits out of the way with ease. Across the deck, he notices Ruby being assailed upon by two other monsters. She tries to dodge out of the way of the first as he swings widely at her, but another jumps at her from over the side of the railing with surprise. He yells, “’Mella!! Get Miss Ruby!” Barely missing another swipe from the crudely hammered, jagged steel of a javelin, he turns his attention towards his attacker.
Looking at its grotesque face, blubbery molted skin, and slippery movement, Hikaru’s eyes narrow and he focuses his attention on the forward monster. He steps back, swinging up his rifle. “Get out of my face, you fish!” KABLAM. The shot flashes right into his skull, rocketing it off of its feet. With a smooth motion and reload, he sends another shot right into the second one’s gut. A messy explosion issues and knocks it backward, instantly dead.
Thorin grumbles and turns away from his console toward the door, raising his staff as he does so. It lights up as it charges with energy, overclocking the steam mechanisms inside of it. A cackling bolt of energy flares up and erupts from the top. At his gesture, it flies toward the creature atop Ruby. Catching it square in the chest, it blows it to pieces instantly. Roasted fish splatters all across the deck.
Ruby screams at the sound and the ichor that sprays out, scrambling away. She dodges under the second monster quickly. Slipping in the ooze on the floor she ducks inside one of the doorways and locks it behind her.
Seeing Ruby was in trouble, the tiefling stalks in her direction. He starts breathing heavily and clenching his fists. Time to end these games. His body ripples and courses with energy as he swells with rage. Stomping forward he whips out his greatsword, slicing the guts of the first fish-man wide open. It staggers back, gurgling, struggling to keep itself together in shock.
With another step, the tiefling jams his greatsword all the way up through the heart of the other one. It gasps at the cold metal and dies upon the sword, the javelin falling with a clatter to the deck.
Rolland emerges from below deck now. His hair blowing in the sea air, he steps out and swings his cane around, the wooden body of it sliding effortlessly free from the hidden sword inside.
Striding up to the first beastly creature, he swings his beautiful blade smoothly through the air with an elegant grace, carving down the torso like butter. The cane sword slides into its gut and he lifts it up effortlessly, flinging it in an arc to the side. Aiming his revolver, it fires off a powerful blast. “Thank for saving me that reward!”
The smoke clears and all is silent. Azandar exhales, surveying the aftermath of their fight. With a chuckle of dark humor, he says, “Well… anyone know how to make Wuxian rolls?”
The tiefling lowers his sword and straps it to his back again, the rage subsiding. He shuffles about, observing the corpses. Among the dead are fishbone necklaces, slime, and the crude javelins. He picks up one limp body and easily tosses it over the side of the airship. He continues about, tossing one after another, grumbling, “Not… safe to eat. Unnatural.”
Looking over at the side of the ship at the spears stuck in the wood, we see the ropes traversing over to the side of the mountain. Azandar mutters, “We should probably get rid of those spears.”
The tiefling wanders over and, without a word, swings over the side to pull out the spears. As he reaches for the fifth spear, he slips on some of the fish slime and tumbles downward.
Grabbing onto one of the ropes, he slides and comes to a stop with a fierce rope burn to show for it. Once he’s steady again, he climbs back up with ease and removes the spear at the top, unperturbed. Now back, he sits down on the deck. He turns his gaze again to look at the 20,000 ft tall strangely leaning mountain.
Meanwhile, now that things are quiet, Rolland is searching the deck for his cane sheathe. "Where the hell'd it end up?"
Hikaru looks frustrated, finally noticing Rolland in the aftermath. “Ugh not Rolland again…” He approaches him and rolls his eyes. “If you didn’t go throwin’ your cane everywhere you wouldn’t need to go lookin’ for it!”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Rolland responds with a smile as he picks up the wooden handle. Barely a second later, there’s a puff of air in both his hands. Startled, he looks down. His revolver has turned into a spade, and his cane sword has turned into a shovel.
He looks absolutely boggled as to what’s happening. “What the--?!?” He vigorously shakes the shovels, aghast, trying to get them to turn back into what they’re supposed to be.
The tiefling looks over at the voice, suddenly realizing there’s a different person present. He cocks his head a little bit, watching the exchange.
Azandar’s mind seems to wander in thought, and he winces as his shoulder pangs. Unable to help anymore here, he starts to head back to the boiler room. He passes Rolland on the way there and stops, backing up. “Were you not just holding a revolver and sword not two minutes ago?”
"Yeeea... and they damn well poofed! Stupid magic…” He continues to wave and smack the shovels around, beginning to mutter and curse incoherently about broken magic.
“Aaaah. So I see. Honestly, it's this place. Or so I think.”
Rolland sighs. "Yup... Rezza even told me to be careful, as even my magic is broke here... and I damn well forgot!"
Thorin looks out from the helm and gives Rolland a funny look. “You sure it’s not YOUR magic? Your changling magic?”
Looking perplexed, he responds back, “Ye… there’s somethin’ goin’ on here… but that’s the only thing I can think of.”
Azandar shrugs. “Well, hopefully they can be returned to their former states sooner than later. I'll be in the boiler room.”
"You and me both, Friend..." Rolland promptly smacks the spade against the wall. “Turn back, damn you!" Dismayed, he retreats back downstairs with his tools.
Azandar returns to the boiler room. He tries one of the valves, and winces, jolting away when his shoulder pangs. He turns after twisting a valve with his non-dominant hand, and wishes he hadn’t injured himself opening that grate door.
Rolland, stomps down to the hold and throws the shovel and spade on his bed, then finishes getting dressed before walking back up to the deck and over by Hikaru. "I hate magic right now..."
Hikaru looks over at him. “Why’s that?”
"My cane... my revolver. They... they both turned to shovels!"
The tiefling glances over at you both. “Unnatural.”
Hikaru pauses, still addressing just Rolland. "But you change back and forth from human to gnome. But the shovels, that's unnatural? I mean... it is though...” he trails off.
The tiefling, still listening, frowns and looks at Rolland.
Thorin shrugs and turns around, stowing his staff and returning to the helm. Armella follows after him, heading to the levers as she shakes off her morning star and stows it away.
The tiefling and Hikaru return to the sides of the deck, warily looking out for any trouble. Hikaru holds up his rifle scope, and sees a bit of creature meat stuck to the end. “Oh that’s disgusting… Ugh.” He flicks it off. The two absently clean their weapons as they keep watch, things now eerie and quiet.
* * *
Ruby, now inside, feels a chill run down her spine, goose bumps and tingles rushing down her body. She can tell what’s happening and tries to breathe slowly and deeply to keep her focus. The feeling eventually passes and she makes her way to her room. Looking at the mucus-y poison in her shallow wound, she can’t make heads or tails of it, never seeing the likes of it before.
“At least it’s so small… if it was any deeper I would have been in real trouble. With a sigh, she saves what she can in a vial and cleans and bandages her wounds, feeling rather foolish and useless. Once she’s done, she resigns herself to staying inside. She’ll leave the harder stuff to the fighters.
She heads to the galley, warming some rations for the others. Bringing a plate and fresh water to Armella and Thorin, then to Hikaru, he looks at her. "Are you alright Ms. Ruby?"
She approaches you with an embarrassed look. "I'm fine, just a scratch..." She hands over the food and is quiet.
"Are you sure Miss Ruby? You don't look very well."
"Oh, sorry to worry you, hun. I think those spears were laced with somethin, but it's worn clear off by now.” She shuffles a bit. “I saved some in case you or Rolland wanna investigate it more, it might be good if we do."
After a moment of silence between both of them, she continues. "I just... I felt so jolly useless. I ran again. I just saw them and--and had--flashbacks, I guess..." She sighs. "I was meanin' to actually fight 'em, but then that electricity blasted one to bits and the taste, and odor, and... and..." She shutters. "It got to me, is all.” She looks defeated.
“Was-- was that you?" She gives you a queer look. “The electricity?”
"Not at all Miss Ruby. Just regular shooting from me..."
"Huh... alrighty, that's fair." She looks around, and eyes Thorin and Armella from a distance. Not knowing what else to say, she heads back to get food for the others.
* * *
After a few more hours of drifting, Armella sees a cleft in the mountain and points it out to Thorin. “What about there?” The tiefling seems to notice it too, and begins pointing quietly. Thorin turns to look, peering at it closely with his drawvish eyes. It appears there is a canyon narrowly sandwiched between the rocks. Based on his calculations, the airship could fit through… if they are careful.
He contemplates, worry etched on his face. “Well… there could be more beasts here. We were just attacked. Who knows if their village is down this canyon or not.” He looks at Armella, and out one of the open windows to the deck. “What say you all?”
Hikaru keeps staring out at the mountain. “I just follow the group.”
“What about you, Armella?” He turns to her. She considers the options for a minute before saying, “It would take more time to head back…. It might be worth the risk?”
Thorin furrows his brow. He grabs one of the tubes and tries the laboratory and Ruby’s room, looking for the others. “You there Miss Ruby?”
Having made a few trips to deliver food, she hears the voice and scrambles over to one she’s near. “Yessir, what can I help with?”
After relaying the situation, he concludes, “Was there any other information in your maps and paperwork as to the exits of these canyons? Will it take us inside?” The tubes are quiet. Ruby calls back after a silence, “…I’m sorry, there’s not a wit. I’m not sure where it’ll lead us, but I reckon inside. I suppose it’s mighty dangerous anywhere we go really, outside or in…”
“Alrighty,” he responds. He flips a few of the caps covering other tubes, then calls down to the boiler room. “Azandar, how about you? How’s the engine working?” The voice of the elf comes through kind of pained. “Yes, that’s fine. But something’s not… my shoulder, I think I injured it. I’m not sure I can work these pipes and gears the way it is.”
“I see, is Rodrick—Rolland, ugh, whatever form he is now, is he there with you? If not we’ll try to get him there.” The tiefling, overhearing the conversation from a distance, looks more perplexed at this whole… form business.
Thorin sighs, closing the tubes. “Here we go, then.” He begins steering the ship toward the canyon. Carefully the ship is maneuvered through the entrance. Armella struggles with the levers, trying to keep it just under a rocky overhang up above. Squeezing through the canyon, it is unnervingly quiet.
After a time, when the light is most thoroughly blocked out by the towering walls of the mountain, there is a strange sound. An alluring music. A beautiful chorus of female voices, cool upon the air. The wind blows them across the deck of the ship and deep into the woodwork, like a chill entering your bones.
Armella and Thorin’s minds begin to fog up instantly. Azandar, from down in the engine room, stands slowly, his eyes glazing over. “Th-that singing...I...must...hear...more…” He slowly moves in the direction of the unnatural song.
Rolland, having headed back into the hold earlier, looks sadly at his bed and the shovel and spade laying atop it. As the song begins, Rolland pales. "Damn it... these things are supposed to be extinct!" He approaches Rodrick’s area. He transitions into his gnome-like form and, dressing up in his normal gear, he grabs his weapons and heads up to the deck to find his friends.
Meanwhile, still sitting on the deck, the tiefling stares out at the shadows of the cliffs where the voices are coming from. “Unnatural…” He mutters. Across from him, Hikaru’s ears twitch, a placid look on his face.
Suddenly, several feathery creatures soar down. They have the faces of women, but they are feral and ferocious. Their hands end in bird-like talons, razor sharp and scraping the deck.
Swooping in, two of the creatures head straight at the barbarian warrior. One reaches out with its claws, screeching at the tiefling.
Unamused, he nimbly dodges out of the way of the incoming talons. The second swoops low, scraping against his armor as it rushes past. He seems unperturbed.
Another flies toward Hikaru with a club ready, ready to slam into his skull. But surprised by the other harpy richocheting off of the tiefling, it shrieks and loses its grip on the weapon, which drops right into Hikaru’s hands. He looks down at it with a mixture of confusion and happiness, admiring it.
Thorin exits the helm room, tipsy like he’s inebriated. Trying to reach out to hug an incoming harpy, he trips on his boots and accidentally ducks under her clawing arms. Trying to re-balance, he stumbles to the side and into one of the walls. Armella follows after, a buzzing in her head, looking up at the “angel-like” beings fluttering around.
Another harpy lands on the deck with a clatter of claws. Spotting the doors leading below, it struggles at the handles to get inside to make its way downstairs.
Rolland, heading upstairs to find Hikaru, spots the harpy through the window and ducks in the shadows. It sees his movement and warily heads towards him, club raised.
Still weaponless, Rolland reaches into his coat and withdraws a fragile glass globe containing some of the concentrated Wyrmtongue Petals he got from Ruby. His eyes narrow as he tenses up to aim.
Faster than lightning, the glass shatters in the harpy’s face. The red liquid floods into its nose and eyes and mouth. It foams and writhes on the ground, choking, and dies almost instantly.
Armella, outside, struggles with the fuzzy feeling in her head. She knows something is wrong, but unable to shake it, she staggers forward toward another angelic beast.
The tiefling stares up at two flying high over his head. He drops his sword. Unhooking two hand axes, he begins to rage, muscles bulging. He takes careful aim and spins both axes up into the air. With a crunch they sink deep into the chests of the harpies, instantly killing them.
They begin falling from the sky in a feathery mess. His eyes widen, realizing he’s about to lose his axes. Without a second thought for his own safety, the tiefling immediately launches himself off of the ship after them.
All of the fuzziness of the beautiful singing dissipates from the air, and the charmed feelings from those before instantly vanish. Thorin shakes his head to clear it. Armella stands up, blinking in the chaos.
Hikaru drops the club hurriedly in disgust. He grabs his rifle and swings it up, firing a shot at a group of swirling harpies. A bullet lances through two of the beasts at once, sending blood and feathers everywhere. Their forms fall from the sky like flies, crashing on the rocks below.
At that moment Ruby peers out from a door. She looks over at the battlefield, and sees the steam still rising from the rifle in Hikaru’s hands. She had heard the haunting, chilling music, and had come up to see what was going on, her derringer shooter in her hand. The last of the harpies were starting to flee, the loss of their comrades too much to warrant taking the ship.
Down in the halls, having been slowly making his way up to the deck, Azandar stumbles as the music leaves him. He shakes his head. “Wha…?” His breaths are shallow. Something else is still there. Not just the harpy song. He feels something awaken inside of him.
Hands shaking, heart rate rapidly increasing, he runs to a window feeling like he’s about to throw up. Tossing it open, he opens his mouth with a heave from his chest. Instead of evicting his stomach, he lets out a strange ethereal shout.
He breathes deeply, heaves again, and finally retches into the sea. Stumbling back into the hallway, he collapses on the floor and drifts into unconsciousness.
The shout from Azandar continues across the mountains, and a rumbling issues up above. Boulders begin tumbling down the sides of the cliffs toward the ship. On deck, Armella and Thorin scramble in the helm room. Hikaru shouts, "Miss Ruby get down!" as he pushes her under cover.
Knocked down next to some cargo for shelter, she covers her head in surprise. She feels his figure covering her up as dust and rubble shatter down from above. A deep rumbling makes its way down the mountain, as boulders race toward the sea.
Hikaru looks down at her, pebbles and dust all around them. "We gotta stop meeting this way Miss Ruby. This happens far too often for us ma'am."
Hears the rumbling stop, she shyly sits upright against one of the railings. Looking down at her hands, she mumbles, "I suppose I just have poor luck is all, Mr. Karu, my apologies. I feel like I has a bad habit of findin' myself in trouble, or in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"That's alright Miss Ruby. We always seem to get you out and that's what matters."
"Too true... just hope that lasts. I'm... glad you seem more like yourself, today. I mean.. you've been kinda—“ She looks over at you and gasps. Her eyes widen and she shrinks back away from him.
Looking down, Hikaru notices his skin, his clothes, even his hair, are starting to crackle and writhe with little tendrils of blue electricity. His aura seems affected by the broken magical energy of this place.
Ruby stutters, recoiling more, “Is that... what… are you okay?”
"I-i- I don't know Miss Ruby." His face is incredibly concerned. “I don’t know, that’s never happened before.”
She looks concerned. “Well it has, but usually you get all sparky and squiggily like, when there’s danger…” She looks around for any unseen foes, but it’s otherwise quiet.
At this point, Rodrick steps out from downstairs and stops dead in his tracks upon seeing his friend. “Now Hikaru, let’s not have any... complications. More than we already have.”
Hikaru looks frustrated. “I’m not doing anything, it’s just happening!”
“I know… Trust me I know.” Rodrick seems acutely aware of the strangeness of the Rift.
Hikaru asks pleadingly, “What do I do, Rod?”
His friend looks at him. “We’re both in uncharged territory. I don’t know if I’ll use my flamethrower next, or throw needles at someone. This place is weird. I don’t like it.”
Looking down at his arms, Hikaru responds, “We should probably hurry and get out of here.”
“Agreed.”
* * *
The tiefling soars toward one of the harpies as they tumble through the sky. As far of a fall as it is, there’s not much time. He grabs onto its back, trying to pull the axe from its chest. Failing to grip it from the wind whipping by and the blood seeping from the wound, he changes tactics.
Roughly spreading the wings of the harpy, he attempts to slow his descent with them. He arcs to the side, slamming against the side of the mountain—SMASH SMASH SMASH—before hitting the brick wall of water at the bottom 1,500 ft below. With his muscles fully enraged they take the brunt of the energy—along with the corpse of the harpy beneath him. He splashes down, feeling the excruciating pain of ribs breaking in the impact.
Sinking into the water, he swims nimbly toward the harpies and pries his axes from their dead bodies. Their broken forms plummet into the green abyss.
Breeching the surface, he looks up at the airship far above. Without a word, he turns and makes his way over to the rocky shore. Mastering the salty spray smashing against it, he climbs up and finds a safe ledge where he can catch his breath and tend his wounds. His rage now subsiding, he lovingly tends to his axes, inspecting them and cleaning them, and storing them away with their brothers.
* * *
After several long minutes of looking around, Ruby says, “Wait... I didn’t see Mr. Zander or our… Red friend on the way up. Were they up here?”
Having been nearby when it happened, Hikaru snorts. “Well our “red friend” decided to just jump off the side of the ship.”
“HE WHAT?” She stares at the edge in horror.
They look down below at the swirling, churning waters of the Rift, or what can be seen of them among the canyon rocks jutting from the sea.
Figuring they have to at least check, Rodrick goes down below deck to look for any ropes we might have. The crew searches for about an hour, as Thorin and Armella try to keep the ship stable during that time.
Unable to find any that are long enough, Rodrick comes to the hold of the ship where Firelord is. He finds what he was looking for; a gigantic anchor rope, thick and roughly braided, is tucked near the back. Easily weighing about a ton all together, he ties part of it to Firelord and heads upstairs with the machine.
BMRRRM. BMRRRM. The heavy footfalls shake the deck, and a hiss of steam issues from the mecha. It stands next to the railing.
Rodrick looks back at the others before he jumps, a good length of the rope in his hand. “If you hear a loud bang, pull the rope back up.”
Hikaru stares. “Rod, this concerns me.”
His friend shakes his head and sighs. “It means that we’re tied on the end and can’t climb back up. Because he’s dead.”
There’s an awkward silence as those words sink in.
“Ok, Rod.”
While keeping one hand on the rope, he jumps off the side of the ship. Down he goes, down, down, down, as the airship gets smaller and smaller. The bottom of the canyon comes up quicker and quicker, and there are roiling waves and rocks below. Rodrick starts to question if this was a good idea… but it’s already too late.
As he starts getting closer to the bottom, he tightens his climbing hooks into the rope so he doesn’t lose his hold and slows to a stop. About 25 yards away from the churning sea, Rodrick sees a very familiar crimson figure sitting on a rock, rubbing his side and tending his wounds… but, considering, looking rather lively.
He shouts, “How you doin’ over there?”
The tiefling, hearing him, cocks his head.
Mumbling, Rodrick says, “Well you’re not talkin’ so you’re not dead… but you don’t talk when you’re alive either. Maybe you’d talk if you were dead.” He says, louder, “Are you okay? Can you move?”
The tiefling, still quiet, stands up.
Rodrick looks up, then back at his crewmate. “Well it’s a long way up. Can you climb?”
After several long minutes the two get on the rope together. The tiefling climbs the entire length with ease, one hand over the other, shrugging off his pain like it is nothing. Rodrick follows after, using his climbing hooks to assist him.
Sometime later, once both are back on deck and safe and sound again, Rodrick uses Firelord to coil the rope back up and returns him to the hold. The rest of the group retreats to their places, resigning themselves to their harrowing journey through the unknown. There’s no turning back now.