The Icy Path

Where the Invictus were cautious in their ascent, Maria's pace was fueled by something more primal. Falling wasn't a concern that crossed her mind, nor did the possibility hold her back. Numb fingers gripped a small crevice in the ice, a boot wedged against a rocky outcrop. Hand over hand. Sweat coated her form, even with the frigid air biting at her skin, and her silvery eyes had taken on an amber hue.

The summit was within sight, within reach.

Down below she could hear them, their voices calling to one another as they too made their way up the rocky face. There were about six, maybe eight by her reckoning. She never looked down though, and soon her hand found purchase upon the summit of the of the precipice. Hoisting herself up, she rose to her feet as her lips curled back into what could only be described as a sneering snarl.

She had found herself standing upon a small plateau of rock jutting out from the mountainside with a wall of sheer ice ahead. No winding caverns, no mountain passes, only an imposing wall of ice.

The summit was close, but maybe it was nothing. For all they knew the person they were looking for went down, maybe they saw them coming and found a way to get around the Invictus vehicles.

No. Arya and her team needed this capture. They were the replacement team. They would be better than The Commander and his team. They had to be.

Arya continued on up the mountain, her speed increasing as the thoughts raced through her head. It was time to prove to Stryfe, to everyone, that they weren't just the B-Team.

The woman was close to the summit, hooks digging into the ice and rock until she could begin to pull herself up to what she hoped was solid ground.

As Arya cleared the summit, she was met face to face with Maria. There was something almost feral in the wolfish gleam of her quarries eyes, something fierce and wild.

"Veidimadur," Maria growled lowly.

She spared a glance to the rest of the team as they began to make the summit, one after the other, but it was Arya that she returned her gaze to. Scarcely two paces separated the women, should either choose to act.

"Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way, girly?" Arya asked, picking herself up slowly.

"You can speal English?" The Invictus soldier asked Maria, stepping closer to her slowly and carefully. She didn't want to spook her. "The people down there say you've been giving them a hard time."

"We ain't here to hurt ya', just here to take you somewhere safer. Those people will Frankestein you soon enough." Arya was mostly lying, but for all she knew the mob was forming right now.

Maria's eyes glanced to the pistol at Arya's hip before looking to her face once more. Every shift of her movement was keenly noted, every muscle and tendon, every placement of her feet upon the rock. It was her hands though that Maria kept the closest eye on, ready to react should she reach for the pistol.

"They say many things," Maria replied, her words heavily marred by her thick northern accent.

Her eyes remained sharp and fierce as she stood her ground to Arya's approach.

"I have to take you with me. The people need to know you're no threat." Arya said to Maria, taking a few more steps closer. "I promise we won't harm you if you decide to cooperate."

"But..." Arya began, "I will have to get violent otherwise. Bring in you with force." The woman informed Maria, "What will it be?"

Maria grasped the hilt of her hunting knife and jerked it free as Arya closed the distance still further. She glanced to the team members at the woman's back, assessing their numbers and their weapons. She didn't like it. There was a span of eight soldiers armed with guns and no cover available. The situation wasn't in her favor, and her regenerative capabilities had their limitations.

Finally after a long moment of deliberation she cast the knife aside in a fairly universal display of cooperation.

"She's coming in with us." Arya said as the soldiers were situating themselves after the climb. "We just got up here... nowe have to climb back down?" One of them asked, palms slamming against a his face.

"You can grab your dagger or whatever. Don't use it on us, we'll be forced to use our own weapons." Arya told Maria, "We're going back down."

The narrow pathway leading up the mountainside nearly claimed Cináed's life before anything to do with his lack of supplies. Every step by this point was placed without much thought, and though the ice melted before his feet met the ground, even without that slippery addition the rocky incline, combined with the falling snow and high winds, was treacherous.

His eyes had shot open in terror as his foot had come down on a section of pathway that gave way beneath it. Only a timely jet of fire to propel himself into the wall of the trail had saved him from falling to his death. He doubted he had the energy to carry himself to safety from a fall of that height.

He stayed in that spot for several minutes while he waited for his heart to stop racing. When he finally started walking again, it was with a lot more care taken.

He spent the night pressed into a small alcove, taking shelter from the building snowfall that, despite not touching him, was beginning to make it hard to see. Maintaining that constant warm glow was taking its toll on him, but he had no doubt that he'd freeze to death without it, natural warmth or not. He'd thankfully had the foresight to hunt for several days worth of meat before leaving the forest, and so he didn't go hungry despite the lack of anything to hunt on this trail.

He didn't miss the city just for its luxuries anymore.

He missed not thinking he was going to die.

In order to preserve supplies, Sahlie had begun hunting a few days ago, having little luck and wasting precious energy. On the third day, catching a rabbit sucessfully had actually brought him towards a clearing in the trees. He was dirty, cold and hungry, but at least he was out of the forest. Instead, what faced him was a path, looking rather precarious.

It was worth stalling out a night to tackle it on a fully-rested body. The survival knife was in his hand during the climb, in case he slipped, and the trickster proceeded forward very slowly. Just because there was nothing special about him did not mean he had no fortitude. A narrow fall nearly brought him off the edge, but he didn't slide a whole lot and thankfully had stabbed the blade into the weakened stone, saving his life.

There were no more problems after that, except the adrenaline that brought him to the end of the path. Sahlie refused to go any further that day, digging a small hole into some snow and spending the night there.

"Entry 108. Have some bread and rabbit left. Maybe another day or two if I stretch it. Luckily, shit doesn't spoil up here, except my good mood and sanity. I will feast like a king tonight, if kings had to climb mountains and eat nothing. It's still fucking cold, but that's nothing new. Knife is a bit duller now, but I'm alive. Barely. If I'm insane, at least I'll see it to the end."

Tizer Van'Luven

A green meteorite falls from the sky and blasts a plume of smoke and snow upwards. Trees are knocked over and anyone who approaches the crater will see a green light from the bottom of the crater and there a green glowing orb sits.

Arlin Soarge has arrived, coming from The Cold Plains.

Arlin Soarge has left the area, heading east towards The Icy Peaks.