(Skyseas of Gensokyo) Nazrin Quest (Part 13)

[DracoOmega]

>How far away are they now?
>How far away can we usually detect that kind of material?

>A little more than half a mile, you think.
>It depends greatly on your surroundings. In the middle of the wilderness, what you are tracking is essentially the only object of its kind for dozens of miles, which makes it much easier to spot at a distance, even if your current condition does diminish your effective range. It may have been about two miles away the first you spotted it, and you think you could have detected from somewhat further away than that.

[Oldmansour]

>Can we see this slope and ridge from where we are?

[DracoOmega]

>Can we see this slope and ridge from where we are?

>Clearly. You're very nearly at the point where you either abandon following the trail here or start to climb straight up. The rock is very nearly sheer in many places, and though it affords decent handholds and ledges, will be anything but easy to tackle in your current condition.

[Oldmansour]

>Well before we start climbing, have we sensed any magical auras about this hill in general, or anywhere in the vicinity of our quarry?

[DracoOmega]

>Well before we start climbing, have we sensed any magical auras about this hill in general, or anywhere in the vicinity of our quarry?

>No. It seems like a perfectly unremarkable hill in all respects, notable only in that it's in your way.

[Oldmansour]

>We do still have our grappling hook. Do we see any sturdy places we could hook that onto to aid our ascent?

[DracoOmega]

>We do still have our grappling hook. Do we see any sturdy places we could hook that onto to aid our ascent?

>There are perhaps a couple spots you could use this, but you don't think it would be especially helpful. The rock isn't lacking for ledges to grip. The problem is that the ascent would be mostly vertical, and climbing a rope doesn't stop you from having to lift your own weight up to the top of the cliff.

[Oldmansour]

>When we were tracking our quarries ascent, did it seem like whoever it was was impeded by this surface as we seem to be?

[DracoOmega]

>When we were tracking our quarries ascent, did it seem like whoever it was was impeded by this surface as we seem to be?

>It's hard to say at the distance and frequency you were tracking them; at the very least, they never moved in a way that would suggest flight while you were watching.

[Oldmansour]

>Or any sign of magically assisted climbing?

[DracoOmega]

>Or any sign of magically assisted climbing?

>You've noticed no sign of obvious magic in that direction at all - or anywhere else nearby, for that matter.

[Oldmansour]

>Well they had to get up there somehow.
>Presumably there's also been no sign of trees or roots or other signs of plantlife that could assist climbing?

[DracoOmega]

>Well they had to get up there somehow.
>Presumably there's also been no sign of trees or roots or other signs of plantlife that could assist climbing?

>The rock in front of you is perfectly climbable to someone skilled in doing so. The one you climbed earlier today was not a great deal gentler-looking. The problem here is that you're exhausted and in deteriorating physical condition; a week earlier and this mightn't do much more than slow you down. It's not hard to imagine the other party climbed up the old-fashioned way themselves.

[Oldmansour]

>So if we were able to climb up there tonight, we'd be absolutely drained by the time we got up there?
>If we fell, how much would falling hurt?
>Does there seem to be any easier paths up the hill within line of sight?
>How much time would it take to circumvent the hill to find another way up?
>Do we even have the stamina to make the attempt tonight?

[DracoOmega]

>So if we were able to climb up there tonight, we'd be absolutely drained by the time we got up there?
>If we fell, how much would falling hurt?
>Does there seem to be any easier paths up the hill within line of sight?
>How much time would it take to circumvent the hill to find another way up?
>Do we even have the stamina to make the attempt tonight?

>You're pretty close to drained already. You can keep pushing on fumes for a bit, if it's important, but you really wouldn't want to have to do anything strenuous afterward.
>That depends a great deal on how high you are when you fall. You'd guess the top is at least a hundred feet up and the ground below is gravely. A short fall wouldn't exactly be comfortable, but you could shrug it off. A fall from near the top could give even a youkai several broken bones. It should go without saying that this would hurt enormously. You'd like to think you could manage a better landing than that, but you're also well below par at the moment.
>This is the assuming the easiest path of ascent that you can see. It's not entirely straight up - there are a few small sloped ledges that would allow some careful walking - but it's demanding nonetheless.
>You don't know that an easier path up this hill exists - at least one within several hours of walking distance. You got a good look at this ridge when you were mapping from your last vantage point, and it looked quite steep on all sides but the south, where it meets the larger mountain range. This southern access is useless to you, since those cliffs are even higher.
>It's not out of the question, but nor do you feel altogether comfortable trying.

[Oldmansour]

>I don't suppose there's any visible ledge above us where we could pause half-way up or so in order to rest, should our stamina fail us?

[DracoOmega]

>I don't suppose there's any visible ledge above us where we could pause half-way up or so in order to rest, should our stamina fail us?

>There are some small ones, though none that look large enough to make for entirely comfortable seating.

[Oldmansour]

I find myself very torn here, troops. Not the least reason being this could be Draco leading us around by the nose, and though I do doubt this strongly, I can't rule out the possibility that this is a wild goose chase.
So here's how I sees it. If we climb this hill and make, we could find ourselves at Yuuka's doorstep only to pass out, at which point she could very easily throw us off the hill when she finds us, or simply mulch us.
We could also camp out down here for the night, but if we do, we risk losing our quarry.

[Hello Purvis]

I say we do it. If nothing else, we die on her doorstep and hopefully she catches the plague too and follows us >=|

[Oldmansour]

My, we are generous. Still I suppose action does trump inaction nine times out of ten.

>Sigh deeply. Only natural that things wouldn't get any easier.
>Okay.
>By the best possible means, ascend.

[DracoOmega]

>Sigh deeply. Only natural that things wouldn't get any easier.
>Okay.
>By the best possible means, ascend.

>With a very heavy sigh, you size up the task in front of you and then get to work. The rock is unpleasantly smooth, the ledges narrow and angular, and the ascent long. Your fingers fight for grip and you press yourself as flat against the cliff as you can to retain your balance. With what little stamina you have left, each meter feels like a minor accomplishment, each new foothold bought with sweat and struggle.
>But still, you press on, clawing yourself up to one ledge then carefully skirting along another. Every now and again you reach one just wide enough to pause and try to rest; your breathing is heavy, your thoughts thick. The wind is growing brisker now, colder, with just a hint of dampness lingering upon its touch. The ground recedes away from you - thirty feet, forty... Your arm trembles slightly as you let its muscles relax a moment; it's a good thing your legs don't do likewise. You crane your neck upward. Not quite halfway yet. Do you even have it in you to climb all the rest of it? Never has so short a distance seemed so far away.

[Oldmansour]

>Aim up at the uncaring sky and wonder aloud, "Can I get some help here?"
>In for a penny, in for a painful fall. Keep going.

[DracoOmega]

>Aim up at the uncaring sky and wonder aloud, "Can I get some help here?"
>In for a penny, in for a painful fall. Keep going.

>After quietly beseeching the heavens for aid, you resume climbing; one hand over the other, carefully feeling out the surface of the rock for the safest place to grasp it. Your fingers quiver slightly, but you steady yourself and focus your thoughts. Careful, mechanical, methodical. Exhausted. But you know what to do - you just have to do it. Fifty feet, sixty... All your limbs feel like heavy rubber and sweat that even this wind cannot whisk away trickles down your nose. The sound of your breath rises loudly above the stillness of rocky wilderness.
>You stretch your left hand up to a distant handhold and grip it tight, lifting yourself upward to the next ledge. Your muscles tremble slightly and your brow furrows; come on, Nazrin, it's not that hard... You shift one foot up to a tiny lip of rock and then carefully move the other.
>Suddenly your foot slips from its purchase! The abrupt movement throws off your center of gravity and you react too slowly to keep your left hand's grip from being jerked aside. Your fingers claw at the rock for an instant, then lose grasp of it entirely. Your whole body swings to the right, and for just a moment, you are left dangling precipitously from that arm alone and it is absolutely everything you can manage for it to not give way immediately.
>It's not enough. No matter how strong your will, no matter how much it matters, you've spent everything it had to give and now there's nothing left. Your arm does not so much tremble as it quakes, and then it gives out completely and you fall.

[Hello Purvis]

>If we're falling along the cliff face, we might as well try to grab onto something, anything.

[DracoOmega]

>If we're falling along the cliff face, we might as well try to grab onto something, anything.

>You grasp desperately for purchase as you plummet away from the rock face, hands scrabbling with renewed vigor for something, anything! One hand brushes narrowly across the edge of a thin ledge, but your fingers slip past before you can grip it. Your shoulder bangs hard against the cliff, sending you tumbling sideways. You try to right yourself, try to reach forward. Everything is a blur of rock and sky and panic; the air whistles shrilly past your ears as you fall, but you scarcely hear it.
>There! Your hand slams down on flat rock - hard enough to drive it numb if you had focus to notice - and you push against it with furious resolve. You feel your shoulder wrench as the rest of your body falls past it and twists, but you slow! And then something strikes you in the face and you lose your grip once more. The rest of your fall is a disoriented haze of scrapes and bruises and the relentless pull of gravity. And one sickeningly sudden impact.

>You are normally a stoic person. You take pride in this, in fact - in your ability to keep a straight face despite fear, or pain, or disbelief. But at that moment when the ground meets your body and batters it with the force of a sledgehammer, you cannot help but howl with all the air left in your lungs. Pain. All the fear and panic in your weary consciousness is replaced with one single overriding sensation: Pain.
>It is hard to remember that there are other thoughts to think. Harder still to remember where you are or why you are here. Hard enough to merely hang on.

[Hello Purvis]

>Fuck...everything. All of 'em...

[DracoOmega]

>Fuck...everything. All of 'em...

>Slowly, the bitter cold of resentment seeps into that misery of pain that is your current existence. You might pound the ground in frustration if your everything did not hurt too much to consider moving. It is hard to tell where one pain stops and another begins; your whole body feels bathed in it, like a sheen of lava beneath your skin. Each breath stabs you, and is taken only by necessity. You think there is a boulder pressing into your side, but it's difficult to determine which way is up. In the dim part of your mind able to process such thoughts, you wonder if it might have been just plain better if you'd lost consciousness altogether. But no, you have to be aware of all this - fuck that, too.
>Eventually, with excruciating lethargy and just plain excruciation, your thoughts pull back together enough to open your eyes. There is a red sheen to your vision and a pile of gravel in front of your face. You seem to be on your side, though you're not sure if that's how you landed. You head feels too big for your skull.

[Hello Purvis]

>How much of that gravel seems discolored? Or are we seeing too much red to tell?
>We're going to die out here. This much is certain now. So now we have a new plan. Somehow find that garden and die there. Let the plague take that youkai and every damn plant there.

[Oldmansour]

>After we lie down here for a minute. Or two.

[DracoOmega]

>How much of that gravel seems discolored? Or are we seeing too much red to tell?
>We're going to die out here. This much is certain now. So now we have a new plan. Somehow find that garden and die there. Let the plague take that youkai and every damn plant there.

>There is a bright red stain on the ground, though it does not extend a large distance from where your head is uncomfortably resting, at least. Your vision is hazy and swimming a little, but not totally discolored.
>Your spirits, on the other hand, mingle pain and bitterness in equal measure. Some part of you wants nothing more than to lash out at the nearest target you can blame - whether out of frustration at her or at yourself, you're not wholly certain.

>After we lie down here for a minute. Or two.

>For once, you are in the very exact opposite of a rush to get moving now. You were exhausted enough already before you did.... whatever it was that you did that makes so much of you hurt so badly. Were it not for the pain, you think you could just fall asleep on the spot. You might still manage to do that anyway.
>But not in the next few minutes anyway, it seems. It is hard to tell exactly how much time has passed, between the disjointness of your thoughts and the chorus of agonies throughout your body, but eventually some of the worst of the pain starts to subside a little. Or maybe you're just getting used to them. It doesn't really hurt to breath now, at least. Much.