[center][color=plum][h2]Dwyn[/h2][/color][/center]

And so, this climb was added to the absurdly long list of 'things Dwyn had had enough of'. It hadn't seemed so high when she'd started, but the weight pulling her down - physical and emotional - did nothing but grow as she made her way upwards. She could feel her muscles burning from exhaustion, panting heavily as she paused in her ascent. Looking down, it appeared that she was halfway to the top, or near enough it for the description to be fitting. And yet she had a sinking feeling that this next part would be just as, if not more, difficult when compared to her climb so far.

The stranger's criticisms were met with a frustrated groan as she pulled herself up further. [color=plum]"I'm [i]trying[/i]--"[/color] A pause to focus on maintaining her grip. How in the name of the gods was she expected to get up there so quickly? Flight? [color=plum]"Weapon's - [i]ugh[/i] - heavier than it looks."[/color] A quick glance towards the movement, while the distraction didn't help her feel any more secure, showed her that he was working on something or other.

His murmurings weren't getting much less anxiety-inducing either. One more? One more [i]what[/i]? Her, clearly. For there was no-one else here that he [i]hadn't[/i] left to the wolves. Dwyn didn't know what fresh horror awaited her, but she was becoming increasingly certain of its existence. She could only hope that she'd have enough strength to fight once her climb was over.

If she made it up without falling, breaking both legs, and lying as fresh ritual-fuel at the mercy of what were no doubt more monstrous priests, perhaps she'd be able to figure out what he was doing. Though from his muttering, it seemed the effects of his actions could be seen sooner rather than later - at least where the contraption he currently worked on was concerned. Part of her wondered if that was a good thing, considering his obvious paranoia and instability.

Though he wasn't the one who'd just heard voices in his head, as far as she knew. Perhaps it had simply been the final thoughts of a trapped, tortured soul which rang through her mind. Perhaps it was simply a case of the blind leading the blind. [color=plum]The mad leading the mad, rather.[/color]

Still, certain as she was of her companions' demise, Dwyn couldn't help a small smile at the thought of these priests reaping what they'd sown. If only because they'd doomed her to a quest of isolation and inevitable lonely, horrifying death. Whatever this stranger had in store for her, it seemed he might well need her alive to do it - and even if it involved her eventual death, it seemed unlikely that there was much more than that in store for the deserter regardless. A lone wanderer in a blighted hellscape.

Little more than a scared, self-deceiving little girl. Despite her best efforts to remain silent, cries of exertion punctuated her movements as she continued to climb, the sweat on her palms making it even harder to maintain any sort of grip. If she were to reach the top, she hoped she'd be able to brandish her weapon for self-defence at the very least - but she suspected she wouldn't be able to do much but lie there until she regained her breath.

For now, she gritted her teeth and kept going despite her body's protests.