Finally, reaching the mountains' base sizing up her first of many challenges. More of a cliffs wall rather. With a acclivitous rise immeasurably from her feet beyond a myst high above the limits of most man. A wall with no way to climb was discouraging . But, Without doubt, and any hesitation, she surveys her surroundings, scanning for a path and sets a point in her mind past the myst then walks up within an arms reach. Ruin pulled from her side pouch a small rolled pointed rod about the length of her forearm. She unbound leather to reveal it was actually two metal spikes tethered with a short piece of the leather she unwrapped them with. With a spike in each hand looping the leather through her fingers she sank the first spike into the side of the cliff wall with a pertinacious hard jab. With each chisling gouge she lifted herself higher and higher scaling the obstacle with nothing more than two pieces of steel, brute strength and determination. Completely switched off in thought, her relentless subconscious took over. Staring off past the myst breathing in a heavy rhythmic trance, she climbed on as though she had done it time and time again. Several hours had passed without notice. Except for the occasional slip or bits of rocks showering her, and the wind becoming more cooler as she ascended. Ruin steadily made her way up the cold black stone of rough texture.  Finally, she had reached the myst, and by then the dry cold had hammered into her body like the slap of a god. Twitching her head she comes back into check. Not only did the cold air burn past her nostrils and scrape her throat...