Li Salagh, the Walking City, Last Wonder of the dying world

Mrin looks through the Runemaster, out the back wall of long hall, and deep into the void beyond the confines of the walking man, where his mind is free to roam. There are a few that say Mrin is deeply contemplative, most say he's just slow, both would be right. Suddenly as if remembering that he is in the room, Mrin's focus snaps back to Rorin,"I bought a hanging tent."

"What?"Rorin replies.

"Why would an Axe need to be pretty?" Mrin murmurs.

"What are to talking about boy?" asks Rorin, more amused than frustrated.

"Father gave me money for a pretty axe. So I bought a Hanging tent, and an axe as ugly as me. I'm fairly certain it will still kill the same."

Rorin bursts out laughing, "Climbing and killing, worry not pup, on this trip you'll get a belly full of both."

“Fair enough.”

Both men stand and perform the ritual farewell of their clan- A quick grasp and one-handed slap on the back—hard enough to ensure it is not mistaken for a hug. Mrin, short even for a dwarf, looks up at The Runemaster, “I will always be shorter than you.”

“True.” With the same precision of their parting ritual both dwarves drain their steins and slam them down upon the table. Mrin’s gaze wanders off, and his feet begin to follow.

“Off to the airbarge with you, and keep your head on straight!”

Mrin is barely out the door, but his head is already a thousand miles away.

"Your arcane guild, the Guardians of the Rod and Cup, are sending an initiate and yourself- a full apprentice. The Guardians always have a full docket of requests, such that they have very flexible contracts with the Gatherer's Guild. It is not uncommon for your arcane guild to send agents along to ensure fair business practices, and quality control regarding the handling of goods." Draven presses his finger lightly against Lucian's chest "You will perform that service as requested I imagine. But you and I both know your bond to the blood is deeper. More compelling. So- trinkets and baubles for Faustino, then essence of the gods for me." A gruff cough echoes from the bend of the stairs just below the landing where Draven and Lucian are talking. Aldo Brandino, aged headmaster fo the Gatherer's Guild appears, breathing heavily from his labored ascent. "A personal appearance up here?" Draven coos smoothly "Your handsome chamber boys must be anxiously drawing a warm bath and a stiff drink."

"Subtle? His funeral was loudly proclaimed the party of the year." Draven purrs. "I have limitless faith in you Lucian." He says says keeping his heavy lidded red eyes locked on the headmaster. He begins down the steps saying over his shoulder to Lucian "Godspeed."

The bustling skywalks are aglow with the orange light of the rising sun. Five major piers stretch out from the tower's capital. A catwalk rings the exterior of the tower connecting them all to the portal through which Aldo walks. The largest of the five piers extends directly from the portal and out over the hindquarters of the colossus. Along this patchwork, yet sturdy structure hang three large air barges, each tethered to the bottom of the pier by four mighty ropes. Although capable of bearing a large payload, the barges themselves are woven of a tough but very light cane.

A total of over a dozen barges, large and small sway in the wind from the upper piers. The three lower piers array themselves beneath the larger piers and connect to the tower at the nadir of the great rift that runs more than half the length of it's hindmost wall. The towers wound is almost sealed shut, scabbed over by the ramshackle cube-like gnomish homes, built haphazardly, one atop another in the gap. The lower piers are manned almost exclusively by the gnomes, who clamber on precariously perched ladders and absurdly engineered derricks to access the undersides of the big air barges. A gnomish barge captain, weaving dangerously along the edge of the pier to avoid the gathering guild members, shouts orders down to his crew.

"No no no! I Told you to refasten the starboard belaying pins! Spit the patchin' gum out of your mouth, we don't have time to fix a hole that size. The rigging lattice has to swing up 'fore next quake. Blasted teamsters will bring the aerwhal in with that cloud bank." He shoots a dirty look at three halflings standing among the gatherer's guildsmen. Briefly a vivid image of each of the halflings plummeting, in turn, over the side of a barge appears above his head.

Aldo walks warily over to a pair of identical young men, and opens his satchel handing a scroll case to each. Meanwhile Lyeas and Kiara drop to the tower top from the branches of the great tree, and below them Arctorious and Dairmida emerge onto the main pier. Mrin is huffing his way up the tower steps. While Lucian and Lastwall make their way out onto the pier, Rifain stands near the end of the pier, above the farthest of the three barges.

Liurra leads Urindel silently through the narrow alley's of the upper pier. They pass the sydrieth guarded doors of several noble houses. The lizards do not seem to note Urindel's lack of a circlet. Liurra wades into the rush of a gnomish crowd at the base of Adakan tower and weaves swiftly to the stairs. She glides up the twelve stories, and pauses before the threashold as Mrin passes through. Turning to Urindel she says. "These are the Gatherer's. They serve the colossus. You will serve them, until they bring you to the Contandari and the vessel of the Emperor' flesh. Return with all haste once you have acquired it. Good luck, clever jig." She leaves him there and sweeps back down the stairs, disappearing into gnome noise.

"This is an extensive dig, and there are many non guild representatives joining us today." Shouts Bjorn, also holding up his silver scroll case. "We will work together seamlessly, and collect for the needs of the colossus. It is our duty!" As he orates a heard of gleaming aerwhal rise into view on the crest of the looming arcus cloud. A few halfling riders can be seen on the lead aerwhal.