In the high, and dangerous Kilanthro Mountains, the screeching of armor against rock could be heard. Moving ever so frightfully, Damion Nix inched his way along a narrow path overseeing a death insuring fall. His back was up against the mountain, flat and enduring. His eyes filled with desperation as he gazed as his feet and the ever so distant goal. It was of his own foolishness that guided him to this point. He had thought that by hugging one of the taller formations, he would somehow pass through the area quicker. Though the next hour proved him false. His nostrils flared as he took in soothing breathes to calm himself down. Sadly his tense body could not shake the terror plaguing it.
As his feet shuffled, his armor ground itself against the stone and echoing out waves of faint screeches. The man was close to his destination now, a smaller cliff that would lead him to safety. "To all the things that are pure in this world...Keep me strong." The wanderer muttered before leaping with his sword in hand. His powerful jump landed him halfway between death and sanctuary. His free hand clawed its way into the earth as the blade pinned it's beholder into place. His strong legs dangled for a moment before he began to climb onto the cliff. Pulling himself and pushing against the cliff, the less-than-flexible warrior final had a moment of rest as he laid on the stone surface.
After what seemed to be an eternal struggle, Damion placed his sword back into it's scabbard on his back. With great --and restored-- vigor, the Coonoalthain started down to the safer route off the rocks. Finding his way to a more open road, the signs of a home could be seen. As Damion made his way down the path, he found what seemed to be a small settlement, or at the least a cottage. The man approached the oddly placed dwelling and knocked on the door. He called out into the home. "Hello? Is there a Sir or Madam whom leaves here? Please tell me it is so!"
