Log:Explorer's Guild: The Crait Escape
Explorer's Guild: The Crait Escape
OOC Date: February 25, 2021
Location: Crait
Participants: Explorer's Guild: Nerys Greystorm, Mandl, Aryn Cortess, Chani Tahn, Maireni, and Corr Waldin
CRAIT
The Explorer's Guild hasn't been hired for once; this expedition comes straight from Corr and there is no client. "Figured it was past time somebody came out here and took a look at what all's down here in these mines and tunnels," the man is saying as he cinches down the shoulder straps on his pack with a tug, wriggling the frame across his back and squatting in a rocketman posture for a moment until he likes the way the weight settles. He steps away from the landed Racnoss, a lame little Sheathipede shuttle that he refuses to upgrade, and his boots leave red tracks in the salt as he starts walking towards the large hangar door, blown open by some form of energy that left behind a huge charged scorchmark around it. A curious eye runs over the small camp of zealots huddled near an impromptu statue, but he makes no comment.
"Easy entrance they got here," he remarks as he steps through the breach, glancing up at the enormous door's weight hanging suspended above. Vulptices, the crystal foxes native to Crait, scatter into the dark recesses of the large hangar, their shimmering spines tinkling together as they run and then huddle behind various bits of debris, rock, and machinery, peering around corners with silvery eyes, unable to resist their curiosity at the strange intruders.
"By now, I think most folks have heard about the way old Master Skywalker faced down a whole army out there, but I haven't heard much talk about the mines and tunnels under this place. Resistance got out of here through 'em, but who knows what else might be here?" he muses, scratching his stubbly chin as he regards a few different passages available. There are three obvious choices, a left path leading in that turns around a corner, hiding what is beyond, a right path that actually slopes up, and a center path heading straight down, a steep and irregular descent into the red rhodochrosite crystals that make up much of the planet's crust. "Which way do you reckon we ought to go?"
Nerys, who had been through her gear and stowed it properly once she got a handle on how many might be in the party, stepped away from the Tai to head in Corr's direction, "Don't worry. I won't sell you off to the heathens, Bitty." That she said to either no one, or to the smol droid maglocked to her pack, "Do we have any intel on what they might have mined here, besides salt?" That, at least, Nerys knew about. "I'm surprised no one's bothered to gather those things up," she offered, indicating the Vulptices, "There might be a heck of a market for them at someone's exotic zoo enclosure." She quieted, though, as she stepped into the confines of the old abandoned base, settling into explorer mode, as she walked a circuit looking for the most likely entry point. "Not right," she called back, indicating the slope, "For my money, this was the way out, look at the way the rocks have settled. It's graded on an incline. But if you'd like me to verify, I can head that way."
Mandl, having been on a handful of expeditions with Nerys before, defers to her judgement until they descend. "I'll have a clearer picture inside," they mention to her. Eyes up, watching.
Aryn follows after the Explorer Guild's leader in thoughtful silence. The gear she wears is an explorer's set, designed with its own internal oxygen and environmental suit, and armored plating! Her helmet is held off, clipped to her belt, and a cape hangs off the pauldrons of her fancy gear. Aryn is the medic of the group, so naturally she is marked with the universal symbol of medicine in the color of green on one shoulder pad, and her satchel containing the various instruments to perform aid, hangs off to one side. Her blonde hair hangs freely, waving a bit like her cape each time there's a small gust.
Her silence was more reverent to what this place meant. She had served in the Resistance, but well after the battle of Crait. Seeing the fossils of that battle, and the state the old rebel base is in, gives some clue to the odds they faced which is what leaves Aryn speechless. Her thoughts go to Leia, wondering what the late Princess must have been thinking when she stared out over this glimmering landscape.
The inside of the base is far more tolerable than the bright outside. Here, the bland grey of her jumpsuit and the dark, inky shade of her hair don't stand out as much. The latter is pulled into a loose bun that's swept back, leaving her face unobscured and making it so she doesn't have to manage it should the occasion arise. Secured near her left hip is a scabbard bearing a sword, though the scabbard itself is adjusted downwards so it's more along her leg than jutting out to get caught against anything. The stale air in the base is actually preferable to the intense scent from outside. Like the ocean, without all the water. Chani's hand reaches out to lightly bump the knuckles of her glove against the side of Aryn's arm. "You need any seasoning for that festival? Got all the salt you could need on this planet."
Crait! Maireni isn't prepared to explore Crait in any formal way beyond just being present. Which isn't nothing, but she's a Lash, so it's also not far from nothing. "Ay, so you think there's any treasure hidden up in here?" she asks, plucking the lollipop from her mouth halfway through so she doesn't have to speak around it. "I think there's gonna be treasure. This place has a real good treasure sense, and I think we're all walkin' out of here rich. I did lots of work to make sure we wouldn't bring back no curses, burnin' herbs, and food, and them pants of Yoska's that he always said were lucky. Means it'll give us luck today, that's how these things work." It's really not.
"We're explorers, not poachers," Corr retorts with a frown at Nerys' comments about the Vulptices. They only poach big mean animals, /obviously/. The full story of what happened on Crait is not available to him, but the broad strokes of it were spread wide by a very effective Resistance propaganda effort, and looking around the hangar, there are some more recent things lying around that were likely left by those same freedom fighters. "As far as what they mined... your guess is as good as mine. Must've been /something,/ though, or else why bother with the tunnels?" he reasons.
Nobody else seems intent on choosing a particular path, so he just stomps ahead into the middle passage, the one leading down, and hopefully the others will follow. "Watch your step!"
Rough stairs are chiseled into the red mineral for the first segment of the passageway, but that stops abruptly halfway down and Corr's final descent is a controlled slip on the rough, irregular surface, quick steps to keep from losing his balance before bottoming out on a more even plane. Here, the ceiling is low but not stifling, with dark grey metal tubes and piping embedded in the red walls, and occasionally there are grates thrown down on the floor and old, yellowed panels of light that still flicker and sput all these years later. He starts walking, but there are a number of alcoves along the passage where segments of the wall have been eaten away either by natural means or the tell-tale scars of mining equipment where treasures might be found, if the inquisitive have the mind to stop and look!
"Yes, I'm aware, Corr, but this place has been long abandoned. I'm just surprised no one has come to take advantage of that. Although, from the look of those zealots, perhaps that fanaticism alone is keeping them away." And then, Nerys headed off following Corr, picking her way carefully, as she made for the stairs, catching herself as she saw Corr skidding away, and she tried to angle for a better end result. "Any ideas, Mandl? If anyone would have some idea of what's useful here, it would be you." Once Nerys was safely and steadily on her feet, she began to poke around, not seeming bothered by the low lighting, as she poked and prodded into various and sundry holes and hollows. She pulled a flash from one, bright silver where it was not coated with dust or salt, and she shook it near her ear, before she moved to tuck it away in a pocket of her bag. As she worked she looked back to make sure that all were well, and to offer assistance if it were needed.
Mandl *dusts* off an old holo-cube, checking it against their datapad. "-- seek an audience with Your Greatness to bargain for *zzt*--'s life. I know that you are powerful, and that your anger with *zzt*--be equally powerful. I know that we can come to an arrangement that will be mutually beneficial, and as a token of my goodwill--*zzt,*" it dies. Mandl pronounces, "Pah, garbage." and tosses it back.
Aryn pauses when Chani nudges her arm, and listens to the suggestion of spice and needing to go no further than Crait. It surprises a laugh from Aryn, one which chases away the moment of melancholy. "A fair statement, I say. Hahaha."
As their trek takes them inside the old base, Aryn turns her gaze from her Naboo companion to stare out over the former base. Light from outside catches the surface of some metal and she walks to it, lifting up a pair of binder cuffs. "Not necessarily an artifact, but I can find no use for these.." She discards them without a second thought, and waits for Chani before pursuing their leader.
The way her voice echoes in the enclosure might be spooky if she stopped long enough to think about it. As it is, she pays only mild attention to the various passages and nooks around them. What ones she does bother to look down seem too dark to take note of anything, leaving her to spend most of her time looking forward. She follows the Alderaanian noble in some loose semblance of a line, though the occasional fray to the left or the right means she's nevery truly behind the other short woman. While her right arm sways lazily by her side, her left rests on the top edge of the scabbard, adjusting it so that it is slightly angled behind her and not smacking against her leg with every step she takes. "Is it actually edible, you think?" An idle curiosity. She wouldn't be so curious as to try it herself, but maybe Aryn knows something of the planet and can turn her deducing, scientific mind towards the general idea to provide some sort of answer.
Maireni has nothing helpful in the way of ideas where they should go, or what's here, or probably even what time it is, but she seems happy enough to trot along behind Corr as he chooses where they go. She appears to be sticking close to him, untiiillll it registers that someone mentioned a festival.
The Ryn halts long enough to fall into step alongside Aryn and Chani, giving both women a big, toothy grin. "You all havin' a party? You know what's real good for parties is people like me! And I guess my brother. You ever had a fortune read by a proper Ryn fortune teller? We're the best at it." Her eyes track as Aryn finds treasure, which isn't actually treasure at all, but as the binder cuffs are discarded, Maireni dashes after them and snatches them up off the ground in the spirit of her trash panda brethren. "So you should invite us, yah?" she says, jogging after Aryn and Chani again with her new binder prize in hand.
"Everything's edible if it don't kill you," Corr surmises, peering into the darker recesses of the mining shaft. He illuminates a small light held in his hand to better see, as the dim panels have grown further and farther between the deeper they go into the tunnel.
It soon appears that this is all for naught, though, when they round the corner on daylight, streaming down from a chasm ripped through the surface high above. The light bounces off the multifaceted edges of dozens of enormous rhodochrosite crystals shot out across the ravine at seemingly random angles, a crisscrossing lattice of deep red planes dazzling at certain angles where the reflection catches them just right.
"Now that's something to see." Corr steps out into the ravine, of which they are at the bottom, staring upward at the impressive display put on by Crait's natural formations. A bit further down, there's a few crystals sheared off, and mounds of the ruby mineral shards scattered all over the passageway floor. Here, too, there are alcoves and crannies where mining activity and the pitter-patter of Vulptice mischievousness have left their mark for others to sift through later.
Nerys, moving with care as they explored further through the tunnel, blinked quickly as she saw the light ahead, allowing her eyes to shift from dark vision to normal sight before she stepped out into the ravine. Gazing upward towards the sky she could see far above, she frowned as she caught a flash of something and began to pick her way towards what looked as though it might once wanted to be a tunnel, but was now the well-established den of more than a few of the crystalline creatures who made their den. She took a knee, reaching in to root around, because she had no shame and came out with a smile, "Finally! A useful bit of kit!" For anyone close enough, or, indeed interested, it was a roll of brand new, never been used, only slightly gnawed...duct tape. Truly a treasure with which one could conquer the galaxy. It was known. "Do you think," she offered to the group, "It's worth it to climb up and see what we can see of the surface?"
Mandl *nudges* an old power-converter with their foot, deciding bending over isn't worth the payoff. They nod? "More ground means more-- priceless artifacts," they opine, deadpan. "Ready when the group is," they announce.
"I grew up with Ryn friends on Delaya. Fortunes were often told, what with folded paper designs. I hardly recall any of them, because it was so long ago." Aryn says to Maireni, laughing. "Though, if you desire to come, it will be on New Alderaan. You could show your craft upon the boardwalks with others who have other feats and skills they like to display. I daresay you might be a hit." Aryn trails off as the Ryn goes after her discarded treasure. Aryn glances to Chani, and was about to answer with some science-tilted response, but Corr's voice cuts in with the authority of what is edible and is not. Aryn leans in to say, "I dare not try it either."
As they move further into the mines, Aryn stoops down to collect at set of dark-vision goggles which, to her dismay, still function. She turns to Chani after donning them, and the optics around the eyes come to life with small green tick marks that rotate when they zoom in, creating a small mechanical whining noise. "I seeeeee you..." These are kept, needless to say.
Chani exhales a short laugh at Aryn's suggestion. No, she wouldn't either. Though the illumination has definitely decreased, the lamps flickering in and out of existence help her catch the sight of something tucked barely out of the way. Since her question to Aryn, she's had little to do except study the tunnel around them and try not to think about how many layers of soil and ground exist above them. Or about how old this place is. Or about how it could all come tumbling down for no other reason than, in that moment, her mind says it's a possibility. What she finds is a discarded knife that looks older than she is. Squatting down, her gloved hand hesitates for a moment before picking it up, taking it out from under what sediment it's buried under. The stirred up dust provokes a cough from her, and her left hand abandons its brace against her sword's scabbard so she can fan the air in front of her to try and dissipate it. The knife tucks easily into a pouch big enough for it and Chani moves on. Right into the goggles that are trained on her. Showing a moment of mock surprise, Chani's hands shoot up to shoulder length, miming surrender at the noble.
Maireni has a tattered knapsack that she carries with her, and the binders are immediately shoved in there. "Yah, yah, we got the best fortunes. You want the best ones tho you gotta use the cards, ya feel? That other stuff don't really net you the good answers."
The Ryn have a serious natural FUNK about them, and as she lingers near Aryn and Chani, said funk encroaches on their space. Along with an abundance of expensive smelling perfume. In moderation it would be nice, in excess it becomes more assaulting. With the FUNK, it's offensive. Maireni is a multi-sensory experience.
"I'm always a hit! I'm real great, people love me!" She veers off to the side when she spies something that looks like climbing equipment that she immediately shoves into her bag with the binders, then it's a quick job back to Aryn. She edges closer, and closer, smiling a big smile a her tail swishes around, bracelets on said tail rattling with the motion. Does Aryn have pockets? If so, they might be a bit lighter.
As the group moves into the ravine, there's a shift in the air, literally; it starts to move. Wind, it's sometimes called, and as it slowly wends through the canyon, running over the many inches of crystalline surface area, a faint whistling picks up and builds as the air speed gradually increases. Probably nothing to worry about.
"You hear that?" Corr questions, waving a finger vaguely up at the air. "Prob'ly nothing to worry about," he decides, shrugging, and continues further in, looking up at where Nerys indicated and squinting in the brightness as a glint catches him right in the eye. "What for? We're looking in the-" And then there's Maireni, helpfully finding the exact thing they'd need to do it and stuffing it in her bag.
Lips twist as Corr is forced to consider the fickle finger of fate which has pointed him out by causing the stars to align in this fashion. "Do you think there's a god somewhere laughin' at us every day we're alive, or chance is just real kriffing cruel?"
He waves Mai over. "C'mere, Maireni, we need your jingle-jangle to get up there. That might be a ledge up there," he decides, eying a shadow on the ravine wall. "Or it might be a shadow. We'll find out." When she gives him the gear, he hands a rope to Nerys, grappling hook first. "You've got a good arm on you, right?" The wind keeps blowing a little bit harder. Probably nothing to worry about.
Nerys, who had tucked away her duct tape, lifted a hand as Corr called out, tilting her head as she listened, a hand rising to touch the side of her helmet, so that she could better hear the ambient sounds around her, a frown crossing her expression, still unseen behind her helmet, "I don't know how much longer we might have in here, if that wind gets worse, it might blow the sediment from above on it. Just as she went to lower her hand, the hook was laid in her palm, and she shook her head, "I'm a free climber. But I can have Bitty take it up for you." Bitty, droid on the spot, unclamped herself from her harness, hovering over to stare wide eyed (having no eyelid, it was always wide-eyed, really) at Corr, before she hovered over to grab the hook from Nerys, "Send me your visuals and I'll let you know where to place it, Bitty." She pulled her backpack around, reaching in, "I have climbing gear, for those of you who would rather." The droid, no longer eye-stalking Corr, hit her repulsor as she began to ascend along the canyon wall.
Mandl takes the extended rope with confidence self-assuredness, *hand-over-handing* neatly to the far-- indeed it is a ledge. "Ah, yes, safe to stand. Some old mining equipment, doesn't appear functional."
Aryn is blissfully unaware that Maireni had made off with her newly found treasure! Not that the noble needed the scratch anyway, but hopefully Maireni finds some use out of the goggles! As they come to this section and take notice of the change in environment, Aryn has a cold feeling that sweeps over her and prickles up her spine. "Mr. Waldin, I have a bad feeling about this," Aryn says, her tone further emphasizing that /this/, whatever they were deciding to do, was bad. Aryn was becoming well-known for having these feelings, or small fortunes, and there being reason to put stock behind them.
Chani's divided attention to their surrounding area and the giant formations in the ravine ends hte second Aryn mentions a bad feeling. Turning towards the blonde, left hand once again resting against the scabbard so that it's angled and kept out of the way, she turns towards the woman and slightly hikes her eyebrows. "What's--," Chani herself hesitates in her question and glances around, scrutinizing the area more carefully than she had been before. "What's up?" She finishes asking Aryn, gaze ending and facial expression adjusted just enough to express a sense of concerned curiosity. It's the same kind of expression she'd consider the rope with, had she given even the most minor thought to scaling it. She has not.
SUCCESS! Maireni's sticky fingers squirrel away the lifted goggles, which are immediately stashed in her bag with all her other newly acquired treasure. Corr calls her over, and ever the one to have an excuse to get close to and pickpocket people, she doesn't hesitate, but then he's asking for... "You want my /whaaaaaaaaaat/?" Five fingers splay as she rests and she rests them against her collarbone in an effort to look shocked and offended. "I ain't got no dru-- oh, the ropes?" She definitely has some drugs on her somewhere, but the attempt to deny that she does fades out as she realizes what he's actually after.
"Ok ok ok, but I get 'em back. And maybe a reward for being so helpful, yah?" Corr is given a big, hopeful smile.
Whether or not she's paid, the gear is already handed off so it's too late to negotiate. One day she'll get better at this. (She won't.) Once the rope is secured she begins to try and scamper up with the help of the gear, getting part way up and then sliding doooooown several of those feet with an alarmed squeal. Her hands are left a little raw from the attempt, but -- whining -- makes her way up.
"Well, maybe you don't got a good arm on you." Corr shrugs, watching the droid zip off with the grappling hook instead, fully expecting the hateful thing to just sail up into the sun and disappear with the rope forever. But it doesn't, and there's a Ryn clinging to it before long and nearly falling down it. "Some bacta cream'll have to be bonus enough," he mutters darkly as he watches her whine her way to the top.
The wind, now a persistent gust, continues to grow as the explorer takes ahold of the rope himself, looping the length around one leg and giving the pair of concerned ladies a look. "Well, what'd you expect when you come out here to an abandoned mine on a godforsaken planet the color of blood covered in a layer of salt? Lighten up and live a little! What's the worst that could happen?" Then he's up the rope, relying far too much on his upper body to haul himself rather than the much easier use of the legs, and finds himself shortly at the top, scrambling over onto the ledge as the wind continues to rise, now hard to describe as anything but a dull roar as it whips through the narrow canyon, gusting strongly enough to blow hair around and billow garments dramatically, if you're the heroic or flowy sort.
"...any of you know much about the weather on a planet like this?" he wonders apprehensively, squinting against the wind before stepping further under the ledge and the partial shelter from the gusts. There is indeed a scattering of mining equipment left abandoned up here, a broken lift that looks like it used to go to the surface and back down to the bottom, but now sits here, lifeless, a few crates, and what appears to be a very large parcel of canvas sticking out of one of them.
Once everyone was mostly up who was going up, Nerys resealed her helmet, shutting out the sound of the wind, mostly, which was playing havoc with her hearing. She took her time, not wanting to end up dashed against the rocks, or to risk dislodging the ropes for anyone else who might come behind her. Once she was at the top, though, she did not leave the ledge, but took the time to secure the rope more tightly into the shelf, and to pull out a secondary rope which she added to help stabilize it, before she stepped away. Bitty, of course, moved to clamp herself back on Nerys' back. "Either we get into that cavern," she offered to the ones up on the ledge with her, or, those of you on the ground get back into the tunnel. The way this wind is blowing, there's a saltstorm on the way. Just as deadly as any sandstorm on a desert planet."
Aryn takes hold of the rope with supreme hesitation, weathering the 'live a little' talk with a momentary flash back to her crash landing and subsequent castaway experience on an uncharted world. "Sure. Live a little." She echoes, then segues to climb the rope. Hand over hand until her legs circle the rope and pin it between her small feet, leveraging friction at the toes to inch-worm up! When she is able to join the others and secure herself, she turns back to offer Chani a hand too.
Stepping over to the rope, Chani grasps onto it higher above her head. She hops and draws her chest up to her hands, allowing her dangling feet to find the rope. She uses her left to trap it on top of her right, providing her a way to not only use her arms, but her feet to climb. It's not particularly fast, but it's efficient enough that she scales up behind Aryn, eyes squinted closer towards shut to block up the sediment that's starting to kick up now that the wind is picking up around them. It carries with it the hint of salt. Chani doesn't like it too much. Still, it doesn't impede her progress, leading to all of them gathered in the same location again once she accepts Aryn's hand at the end and hauls herself up with the aid.
Maireni's hands smart, but once she's all the way up and distracted with the task of looking for more things to take home with her, the whining ceases. Though other than the occasional rock, she doesn't find anything fun or useful. The whining may resume again soon.
With the crew together on the ledge, it seems they've regrouped just in time, as the gusts raise to gale-force and bits of the crystalline shards that scatter the floor of the ravine are caught up in the wind, dazzling chunks of red that rush through the air like glass knives. It's beautiful, in a way, and utterly terrifying in other. Of course, there's a name for this phenomenon: a crystalstorm, a rare but not unheard of event on Crait.
"...we gotta go," Corr decides, as it seems he always does on these expeditions at one point or another, pursing his lips together and puffing them out at the same time so they don't stick to his teeth and shouting to be heard over the roar of the wind as it barrels through the tight quarters, sweeping larger chunks of crystalline rock adrift. "There's got to be something here," he fumes, tossing a crate over and the skein of canvas tumbling loose, a long length flapping free to wave in the wind.
Nerys, once she was certain that everyone was up and safe, took the time to retrieve the ropes, glad of her armor that protected her from the winds and crystal. Better to take them than to risk them being torn away or weakened so that they would fall should they try to use them to get back down, "Get back as far into the shelter of the bore as you can! Use the mining equipment for cover!" She would follow along in the wake of the group, covering the retreat as best she could. And then, as she rose to make a low half crawl to the equipment, lest she get pulled off by the force of the wind, she waved a hand at Corr, "The canvas! We can use it to make a shelter! We'll try to repair the lift!" There were two we's here. We the group, for the canvas, but we the repairs would probably be Bitty and her steed.
Mandl focuses the effort to lead the untrained to proper shelter, instructing them in clipped Basic where to huddle-- which parts of the abandoned machines will provide the safest, densest cover from the elements.
Aryn plucks her helmet off her hip and plops it atop her blonde grape. Establishing the seal was the easy part, and the fresh rush of cool air filled the mask, protecting her from the harmful elements that occupy the air. Nerys was yelling about the canvas and using it for cover, so it's that very thing that Aryn motions Chani to, if she can see/make out what she's motioning toward. With all the wind and such, it's probably really distracting! It occurs to Aryn, that Chani could just use the cape!
Swiping the material up, Aryn makes a shield with the cape after backing some where for shelter, concerned more for her companions, thankfully because her armor should take most of the abuse!
Aryn isn't the only one donning a helmet. Chani attaches a respirator to her face, first, drawn from somewhere within her pouches. Then the helmet goes on, her done-up hair already making it so that it's not an issue. The visor of the helmet is plasteel, and if need be, she can lower a thicker blast shield down over it should the weather get too crazy. There's no way for the helmet to seal, however, which is why she drew the respirator first. Following Aryn, Chani hunches down near where Mandl indicated was the thicker part of the machine, ensuring that it's unlikely for anything to puncture through the old machines and pass straight on to her on the other side. She tucks her chin farther down, trying to use angles to help keep anything out.
Things are getting really messy up here. Pretty, but dangerous. Maireni gives their location one last sweep of her gaze in case there's some really obvious treasure that she missed, but there is none. "See you all down there!" she calls, then turns and takes a flying leap off the edge like a crazy person. Or maybe not so crazy, because her armor has a wing suit that she uses to glide back down to ground. The landing might be a little rough, but that's mostly because she's an idiot and no fault of the equipment.
Drat. She had only just started heading out of the storm. But, with Corr deciding to take a flying leap after the Ryn who decided to take a flying leap, well, what was a droid to do, but follow after her guildmaster. Nerys, putting aside all hope of reason, made to reach for one of the corners of the canvas, hoping to put herself at the lead edge along with Corr, where the damage might be worst. Her suit was already taking a severe scouring from the crystal shards, but she would simply have to continue on, "You hold on, Bitty, fire your jets if you have to!" The smol droid, who was no longer trusting just to her maglog, freed her hands and feet to anchor her digits in the straps and folds of Nerys's backpack. "I'm a go when you are!" When Corre leapt, she would leap.
Mandl *up-chins.* Chin or no chin. "Corr, before we leap: they were going to drill up there. Straight up. If you know what to look for, you can see pilot-holes and fracture predictions? They're there. They wanted something in the ceiling."
And, against her better judgement, again, Aryn takes a leap of faith and is injured because of it. Something lodges into the lower section of her armor, and before long, they hit the other side. She rolls and favors where she's been hit, but turns to look for the other explorers to see if they all made it.
Like Aryn, and adopting a plan that shouldn't feasibly work because of the combination of gravity, the weight of four individuals, and given the surface area of the tarp they're all going to try it with, Chani grabs hold of one of the edges of the tarp and follows Aryn into the leap. It's unlikely that the sharp yelp she emits is heard over the howling wind, but Chani can feel something hot and wet beginning to pour down her torso from the back. When they make it to where they're going, she's quick to abandon the tarp and immediately twist her arm around to swipe her gloved hand at where it feels hot. What she comes away with is blood staining her glove in a dark coating. Better than a bright red coating, all things considered.
With the crew spread out on the narrow ledge as best they can and the wind already whipping the canvas in their grasp, Corr counts down. "ONE!" Don't look over the ledge. "TWO!" Don't look!" "THREE!"
Weightlessness! and the horrible sting of the windswept crystals, grit seeking out every gap and seam. The canvas billows uselessly and then fills with a sudden tug, threating to jerk free of the explorer's fingers, but the panic and rush of adrenaline pays off and the makeshift parachute buoys skyward.
Mercifully, the largest shards are contained in the lower strata of the ravine, with only a few of them straying this high. They're born aloft, on the wings of the eagles, a majestic- oh no they're falling. As soon as the canvas parachute clears the rim of the ravine, the wind force drops and so do the fearless adventurers and their better judgement, deposited roughly in the salt below, leaving a wide skid of red through the white.
"I think that went well," Corr decides shakily, stumbling upright, his face, ears, and neck bright red from the wind, only bleeding a little bit! "Krif, don't- oh hell, the salt. The /salt./ This did not go well. Everything burns."
Oh well. Not every expedition has a crait ending.
