Initially, Cyrdic didn't know what to say. The very air was rough to breathe and cold to the core. He felt a wheezing crackle in his massive chest. The same hunger gnawed at him, yet to perhaps an even greater degree. The blessings of Ulric had its downsides, and Cyrdic's hunger nearly drove him mad. Though he knew Camilla seemed to be wasting away. He had to be strong for her. Even with his respect for her skills, and all they had been through, she had been a courtesan and duelist first. These past weeks had been nothing like she could have ever experienced, and even Cyrdic only had had a taste of it before he had flung himself into the wastes. 

"We'll be ok," he told her. Promised her. 

He was afraid as well, but his fear was nowhere near as powerful at his anger. Something he had to keep in check far more than usual, with the lack of food and water, and the odd obsession of the world with throwing them into terrible situations. He had the intense urge to find what being had decided to curse them, and bathe in his blood. With a will, he swallowed down the images. No...I will not be lost. The Blood God would not have him. 

Instead, he nuzzled into Camilla's hair and held her, even his strong arms tiring. "We just need to go into that temple, and we'll be fine. We can do it, right?" He asked. Cyrdic waited for a long moment, and her muddied hand gripped the back of his. "Right," she said with a conviction. He kissed her head. 

Konrad looked every part forlorn, though he gripped his greatsword with a strength born from desperation. Even Ivan seemed somewhat slower and more tired, and Boris looked as if he wished to charge out into the wastes of the Dark Lands and simply end it with his sabre in hand. Yantz seemed on the verge of violence for having to wait any further. Only Dietrichia and Skaldi seemed somewhat calm, though they both had an edge of wariness to them. 

"Now is the time." Dietrichia said, standing up. Her red hair fell in waves about her, though the sweat of the day caused it to staick to her shoulders and back. "Lead us on, good Dwarf." 

Cyrdic groaned, and helped Camilla up. Konrad had to use his sword to stand up, but down they went. The group hugged the crags and knelt as low as they could behind the rocks. Skaldi glared at the temple constantly, and they were not sure if it was he looking for the ventilation, or simply his hatred for his dark kin. The howls of beasts filled the air in the distance, seemingly carried by the faint wind. 

"There," Skaldi called, pointing toward the southern end of the temple. His thick finger aimed at the left side of it. Camilla and Cyrdic would spot a small, square hole that hugged the rocky ground. It took Cyrdic a moment to realize it had been cleverly made to look like a uniform curvature in the deceptively blocky architecture. No matter their differences, these Dwarfs had the same eye for detail as their kin in the World's Edge Mountains. 
[@Penny]