The magma continued to churn, and after coming to the swift decision that no one wanted to die for Lugh, the party quickly organized their ascent up the treacherous slope. Magpie’s efforts, crude as they were, helped them get a headstart, everyone benefiting from being able to ascend one foot up easily. But the slog that was a climb through a small, cramped, slippery sauna-tunnel remained slow going. If they rushed it, their hands could slip and they could fall back. If they were too slow, then the eruption that Raime predicted would swallow them whole and all the END and HP in the world wouldn’t save them from death by flesh-melting. So, with varying degrees of success, the party negotiated the tightrope of too slow and too fast, pressing upwards and outwards.

Ames undoubtedly had the advantage of proper footwear, quickly taking the lead as he scrambled up the slope. The soles of his sturdy sandals managed to grip to the slick stone where others slipped, and the red-haired warrior ascended swiftly. Klein found success as well, even if he willingly took on the role of the rear guard. Descents may require technique, but ascents were all about endurance and strength, two things that a Mountain Man had plenty of. His Traveller’s Proficiency kicked in this time around, and was actually useful: planting his arms against either side of the narrow tunnel, Klein functionally became a safety net for the others, tough enough that he wouldn’t have fallen even if another person crashed into him. Between Ames’s trailblazing and Klein’s safeguarding, the three in the middle were able to climb safely as well, even as their hands became hot and damp from grabbing at handholds, even as their backs became more and more sweaty from exertion. Raime felt the toll of climbing the most. He had scrambled up as efficiently as any Scout could’ve, but after the initial burst of speed, was finding that his limbs were being to slow. He was certainly tiring, and it didn’t help that he was scrambling up with only one arm. Magpie was fine herself; monstrous strength befitting of a devil-horned brawler helped her prevent any falls. There were a few dicey moments, of course, but she could arrest her descent with the strength of her fingertips alone…even if those fingertips ached afterwards. It was Amulak, decked out in boneplate and a thick coat, who had the most difficulty. Whether it was due to some unseen modifier affecting his physical capabilities or just due the fact that Klein kept on awkwardly bumping into him during his climb, the necromancer wasn’t making nearly as much progress as he would’ve liked.

Beneath them now, the party could hear the rising of magma, splashing against rock with an almost geyser-like hiss. Shrill cries sounded, like the broken glass against chalk, before the cracking of stone resounded in quick succession. The chamber rumbled, echoes of the shockwave reaching the near-vertical slope they were in. A great mass of something was approaching from beneath. The party was a good thirty meters up now, but was that distance safe from the prophesized eruption? From within the thick steam, it was hard to see down below, but steam itself seemed to be rising up towards them, red-tinged and much hotter than before.

[i]Pshhh![/i]

Something whistled through the air, snagging onto Amulak’s ankle. With a sudden jerk, the necromancer was pulled back, his foot wrenched from its hold and his nails scraping futilely against stone as he freefalled…right against the Mountain Man’s brick wall-like body. Klein was the rear guard after all, and this reversal of roles meant that he was able to stop Amulak from plummeting down the shaft, if only barely. But whatever had snagged Amulak did not stop just because Klein held on. The pressure upon the necromancer’s ankle increased, and slowly, Klein’s own hands and feet began to slip from the rocks that he had anchored himself onto.

It would be easy, to flip Amulak off like Magpie did to himself. It would just be like cutting loose deadweight, so the rest of the party could continue on at a faster pace. And if he did it quickly enough, it could be framed as an unfortunate accident.

But would Klein do it?
[sub][@Shovel][@Searat][@Psyker Landshark][@OwO][@Yankee][/sub][hr]
The world around her went dark, and then lit up in a phantasma of chromatic brilliance. Xu Fu, settling over Ari’s eyes, gave the catgirl insight once more on all identities around her. Bortz and the rest of her party members glowed blue and the frame of the gyuki that was still sandwiched between Vator and Droko oozed with a malevolent red. Where was the one that disappeared though? She whipped around, her sealed gaze turning all around as she tried to prepare herself for an ambush. Virtual energies continued to drain from her body, causing her mind to being light, airy, but the immediacy of the danger around her kept Ari focused. All it’d take was a single hit, and she’d die.

And then, she saw it. A fine red mist, once dispersed into near-imperceptible particles in the air, was now coalescing to her right, behind Bortz who was charging through the poison blast now to end the one gyuki that [i]could[/i] be seen. Intangibility and invisibility then. Practically cheating. But let it be known that no phantasm could hide their form from the great seeker. Ari’s blades spun through the air, striking the half-tangible form of the monster and tearing great chunks out of it. The bleat of surprise, of rage, drew the hammer-wielding warrior’s attention behind him as well, and with a ferocious shout, he smashed the insect-bearing amber into the monster’s semi-formed skull. Upon contact, the hammerhead buzzed, vibrated frenetically, and the gyuki’s form was shook apart, viscera and blood blasting outwards, only to instantly evaporate.

[b]"Nice fucking shit, Ari!"[/b]

Incorporeality, it seemed, had made it much more vulnerable to damage.

With only one gyuki left, the fight became a foregone conclusion, one in which Ari’s party had no chance of failing. That was good then. Very good. As Bortz laughed, swore colorfully, and joined in on the brutal murder of the remaining gyuki (who no doubt regretted grappling that giant bear), Ari could think on something else.

Within the unerring gaze of Xu Fu, she could see the merchant, Man Joji, exuding red fumes. And deeper in the wagon he used to transport his goods, rows of blue frames were stacked upon each other.
[sub][@GreenGoat][/sub]