Story I: The Rift

"I also have supplies," Erran adds while gesturing to the fifty foot length of rope and bundle of pitons secured to the side of his pack.

Here, I'll tie a few of these together and get us ready.

Baric takes the ropes and tries thing them together. The first rope to the second goes poorly, and the third... Well, that does a good job tying the bard to the other ropes. After a few minutes he untangles himself and gives up with some colorful curses in a few different tongues.

"Here, let me help. " Pyrrah moves to help Baric and to straighten his knots out.

well let go get this over with, I want to be far away from the worms up there, and the possibility of the worm in here. Ameera gestures to the sword still resting on the ground. And there is the small matter of our talkative, and seemingly pacifist blade there. Who will take responsibility for it... Or should we let it lie there?

"He won't defend us. Simply by refusing to fight he may inadvertently get us all killed. I don't think we should risk it. Heavens know that he nearly got me killed... "

"He won't need to fight. But he's going back with us." Devanis picks Seraph up and stows the sword unceremoniously with his other gear. After checking Pyrrah's knots he drives several pitons into the tunnel wall.

Ameera peers into the cavemen below, her head spinning from the thought of the climb. "How about you lower the lightest of us down to have someone keeping watch and defending the position down there"

"I was thinking the same. Erran, could you and Baric belay us down? Ameera could go first, then me, so we can act as scouts. But send Zubie down, I suppose."

"Hey, wait, I never said I won't defend you," Seraph says, muffled while in Devanis' pack but still entirely audible. "I just said that I won't defend you," He exclaims with appropriate emphasis, more-than-clearly referring to Pyrrah in the given context. "And you advertently tried killing me, leaving me on the ground and cursing me to 'go down with you.' You even said screw me! If I wanted to kill you, I could have!" He huffs in annoyance, "So I don't see how you can just blame me. I was told that I'm distrusted, and that I have to work to earn your trust. I'm a person, too! Who's to say that your trust is all that matters?! And then I'm drawn with nary a word as to my opinion, and bid to kill!"

"Yeah, I'm just the person with legs, you prattling rusted scrap heap. You're oh so dangerous from the ground. Maybe you should just carry yourself out of this pit? And just so we're clear, I'm pretty sure killing the dead doesn't count: they're dead. " Pyrrah fumes. In her anger, her hand hovers dangerously above her dagger from unconscious learned instinct, her eyes blazing with rage.

"You aren't more important than I am, despite what you think!" He shouts, although the force of his argument is somewhat diminished as he still remains among the Ranger's other equipment. His words are loud enough to echo, however, and the blue gem on his pommel burns brightly. "How can you tell me what counts and doesn't count upon my own conscience?!"

Pyrrah drops her voice, aware of the echoing of the tunnels but still trembling in anger. When she speaks, her voice is a deadly low hiss. "You don't want to swing at anything? Fine, you glorified knick-knack, but a sword or spell will pierce me far more readily than you. My life trumps that which is threatening it. We die, you're lost here forever, so consider this your one warning. If you let us down, you damn yourself to eternal isolation as much as us. Let your conscience chew on that for awhile, and shut up so we can move..."

At first Seraph's voice is a loud yell as he roars back. The glow of his pommel turns from blue to a deep crimson, and the light that sheds from it becomes a dripping mist that slowly sinks to the floor, "You ever think to ask me kindly, instead of your manipulations, threats and demands?!"

The light in the pommel flickers briefly, the voice cracking and diminishing, wavering in strength until it returns to its soft, blue glow. Seraph comes back with a confident, almost cocky tone, "I won't be lost here, anyway. Elnaril said that he'll come back for me."

Pyrrah doesn't flinch back, but stands her ground still trembling with barely restrained anger. "Yeah? " She snaps. "Well it's time to wake up. He's not come ng back and may not even be alive. Elves lie. Humans lie. Everyone lies. " Her eyes darken, not from anger or aggression, but from the sadness of haunting memories. After a moment of silence, she continues in a quiet somber voice devoid of any confrontation. "We lie to ourselves for protection. We lie to family in order to alleviate fear. We all do a lot of things we probably shouldn't because we're desperate or afraid. Myself included. I don't trust anyone anymore; you get stabbed in the back enough times you learn not to, for your own safety if nothing else. Everyone turns their back on you eventually. "

She stares over the edge for a moment, speaking softly as she stares out over the fall. "I drew you because I was desperate and in fear for my life. I'm not a fluffy person, and I'll never be. If you can't deal with that, then figure out a way around it. I'm sorry that you think I'm mean, but mean keeps you alive. Sevarra is an unforgiving place to anyone with the smallest fraction of a pure soul. "

After that, Pyrrah slips into a gloomy silence, cowed not by the sword but by the demons of past pain hanging over her head. She'd said more than she'd meant to, but she was too numb to care. Unfeeling was better than feeling anything...

Seraph does not reply, and an uncomfortable silence falls upon the room.

"Of coarse, I'm sure Baric and I together can get everyone down saf..." Erran replies to Devanis, but is cut off by the back and forth between Pyrrah and Seraph.

As the argument dissapates, Erran kicks a few loose stones on the ground in an attempt to stave off the awkwardness.

Well... Let's keep our eyes set forward, rather than looking back. We should get moving."

"Zubie, please fly down and look around, let us know if there is anything dangerous down there" Ameera buckles up the climbers harness taken from her pack. "Gods know things are dangerous enough up here."

She attempts to tie the rope to the harness.

"Hells and hells. I don't like anything about this idea, and I don't trust my knot."

During the exchange between Pyrrah and Seraph, Devanis doesn't stir from where he's crouched by the tunnel opening. As both the sword and the raven-haired woman descend into hurt silence Devanis turns to Pyrrah and seems about to say something comforting but seems at a loss. As Erran and Ameera get down to business Devanis helps Ameera secure the climbing harness.