Socorro wakes up, and stretches. Best get going before the others wake up. He knows they hate and fear him, so for the most part he tries to avoid them. He straps his strange blade to his back, and slips outside. He sees Yullar, with his powerful arms, strong mount, and admiration of all who know him, and sighs longingly. [i]What would it be like to be that kind of man?[/i] He walks up to Yullar, averting his terrifying eyes, and humbly asks, "Captain Yullar, what is it that we are trying to accomplish here? We stand at the crest of Krolm's Anvil, but I see no purpose as to what it is we're trying to do."

	He looks out at the Anvil, and sighs. "We know virtually nothing about what lies inside the Anvil, yet you want to venture inside on the [i]hopes[/i] that there [i]might[/i] be something of worth? I don't understand, but I'll do as you command." He examines the brands on his hands, and mutters to himself in a strange tongue he invented a few weeks ago, so he can talk to himself about others without them knowing about it.