Nalla doesn't seem to be inclined to repeat herself, but she also does not rush the compliance to her plan, waiting patiently for the next phase to begin and obviously quite sure it will.

For a moment, Alberic looks rather expectantly at the others, before realising that it is he who is supposed to lead them back. "Ah, yes. Shall I?" He gestures over his shoulder, then turns and heads towards the entrance of the cave. Without his crutch, his gait looks quite unstable, but is surprisingly quick. He makes his way out onto the ledge, his mechanical hand splaying out its appendages to dig into the rock, and calls back into the cage: "If you wouldn't mind, would someone bring my clock hand? I got it all the way from a clock out in the Clock of Kala!" He chuckles, and apparently oblivious to the fact that no one shares his amusement, proceeds along the ledge, muttering "Clock hand! Clock of Kala! Ah, me..."

Alberic will wait for the others to come out, and begin to make his way back to the camp.

Zalbane regards the gregarious stranger with a most peculiar feeling.  He had been so absorbed in Nalla's command and Tacita's questions that he hadn't really seemed to register her sickly pink skin, bulbous bronze eyes, lumpy flesh, strange proportions, tiny baby teeth, or wire-like sparse hair.  She picked up the clock arm with trepidation and followed with the others, holding the arm more like a club than anything else...

Nalla nods reassuringly at Zalbane as she picks up the clock hand, then returns her focus to the new guy and follows him out closely.

”Now that we are on our way lets get back to that bit about how you got here, and what it is you think we need?”

Alberic seems thrilled by the opportunity to talk after months of virtual solitude. He appears to take a very broad interpretation of this question, and launches into his life story, fiddling to put his mitten back over his mechanical hand - a slow process given how often he stops to gesticulate. "Well, it's a long story. How familiar are you with Exigen? Or Pocket Dimensions?" He does not wait for answers. "I started out in Far Brohn, you see, when I was just a lad, apprenticing with the Order of Truth. There were so many caravans and I always wanted to see the world, so I signed up with one as a mechanic, and did the run over to Nihliesh. After a few years of that, my employer sponsored an expedition out to the Lambent Fields, and sent me out because of my way with the Numenera. It was incredible! We found huge amounts out there, but in the end we got a bit cocky trying to study the Iron Wind and..." He waves a hand towards his distorted left side. "We got too close. I was the only survivor. It was quite the adventure getting back to the Pythoran Empire - I'll have to tell you about it sometime! A little circuitous - I got all the way into the Clock of Kala before I realised that I had gone in the wrong direction. Still, I picked up this delightful souvenir." He gestures towards the clock arm that Zalbane carries. "And - by the way - thank you for carrying it. " He appears to be unphased by her appearance. "It's a useful counterbalance, and very handy in a fight! Anyway, by the time I got back towards Far Brohn, I ended up pretty much bankrupt, and was a little worried that our sponsor would, erm, expect me to put up their return on investment, so I headed over to Jargolamis in search of work on that newfangled bridge that Limech is putting up. Well! It's quite the fascinating project! A technical marvel and..." He trails off, abruptly realising that he is answering completely the wrong question, and that the life story he finds so fascinating to remenisce on doesn't seem to be gripping his audience in quite the same way.

He coughs, and resumes. "Anyway, long story short, I, er, resumed my association with the Order, ended up on an expedition to the Umbil. It seems my monkeying around with an extradimensional teleporter attracted the attention of the Exigen - they're sort of extradimensional beings. Do you know them? Did I ask that earlier? They're quite fascinated by our dimensions, and often pull people across to study. They snatched me from the Umbil, and well - initially they were quite chatty, in their picture-driven sort of way. They communciate telepathically, you see. Images and concepts... no language barriers there! Anyway, they seemed quite interested in me at first - couldn't get enough of my tales about the Lambent Fields and the Black Riage. My explanation of the Clock of Kala and my clock hand - oh, they were in stitches at that one... heh, heh - at least I think they were. It's hard to tell. I clearly couldn't top that one, because they seemed to lose interest after few months, and, well - left me to my own devices, and picked up your Mustane. He wasn't much of a talker, though, so he persuaded them to let us go. In exchange for some other people, I think? And anyway, here I am. Probably in breach of a second contract, so I'm in sore need of work, and Mustane said you were with the order, so I thought maybe you were in need of a Wright." He offers a lame cough. "Still, I'm an enthusiatic sort. Will work for food and lodging, heh heh! I realise I seem to have baled on two contracts, now, but I assure you, both were force majeure! I have many fulfilled contracts under my belt, and am handy with tools. I mean, I have to be!" He wiggles his mechanical hand. "This stuff doesn't fix itself! So, if I can be of any service... well, I'd be happy to help. I, er, didn't think to ask what you were up to. What are you up to?"

As with so many of Alberic's monologues, he trails off, lamely, as he realises he has said too much.

Zalbane starts when Alberic's ramblings reveals he was touched by the same disaster that had changed her.  "I too was changed by the Iron Wind.  I was the only survivor of the building it destroyed in my village, and it brushed me... I was protected by a great light from dying, though I will forever look very different."

When he begins to speak of pocket dimensions and creatures from other places that liked to pull people away for study, she looks at him sharply.  "We are here because people seemingly foreign to here are appearing from the gorge randomly.  Our Aeon Priest wanted us to establish an enclave here to discern its cause and see what we could learn from it and from the people.  Perhaps your Exigen are the source of this disturbance!"

Alberic is immediately fascinated by Zalbane's encounter with the Iron Wind. "Really? Goodness! You too! How was it? I was fortunate that I was on the edge of the cloud. You can actually see the line where its edge was..." He begins to undo the top button of his shirt to show off the scars, before realising that this is wholly inappropriate, and giving an embarrassed cough. "You said a great light protected you?"


In reponse to the question of the Exigen, he muses: "That's quite possible. I had assumed they returned Mustane and I here because it was Mustane who negotiated our freedom, and this was where they took him from. But perhaps they have other reasons for being interested in this area? After all, they must have been here to take an interest in Mustane. Have you managed to speak to any of these new arrivals? Have there been other disappearances?"

Alberic's urge to undress is inappropriate not least because he is traversing a narrow ledge above a very deep crevasse, and perhaps he should be focusing on surviving while he chats about pocket dimensions.

The shuffle along the arcing wall of the gorge is slow for the quartet, but slightly safer for having passed by so recently.  The weather remains calm and conducive to travel.

OOC: Time for more discussion/banter along the ledge if you want to.

While quite content to let Alberic talk about whatever he wants, and for some ancient history to be shared Nalla makes a very obvious attempt to head off the mention of any information relevant to the current mission.

”I think we will wait on telling you anything about what has been happening in the area until we can at least confirm your story with Mustane, even if that will not give us any way to confirm your identity.”

"Oh. Er, yes. Of course." The problem of actually confirming who he is doesn't seem to have crossed Alberic's mind at all. Indeed, so wrapped up is he in narrating his tale, that he seems to have largely lost track of their surroundings, and is making his way along the ledge without due care and attention. "I hadn't really thought of that. I don't really have any identity papers or the like. If only the order kept a membership database? I suppose you could contact the Aeon Priests back in Jargolamis? I'm a fairly distinctive fellow."

As the group edges their way back to the camp, noises from that direction can be heard.  Objects colliding, likely lumber being stacked, and the relaxed banter of conversation too distant to be made out.

Tacita slows down until she is last in the group. She seems relaxed, but she is curious about what will happen when they reach the craftsmen. She holds off on conversation, simply because it takes her effort to do so, but she likes the half-mechanical man.

Even though he talks way too much...

"Ah, I think we are back at the place." Alberic declares, heading for the noise and calling out. "Ah, Mr Mustane! I think I have found the Order of Truth folks you mentioned!"

The ledge finally resolves again into the steeper, uneven steps leading up between the boulders and out into the clearing where the trail from Yenth ended.  Zalbane has edged along behind Nalla, in front of Tacita, bearing the clock-arm staff in a harness of light on her back.

Back on solid ground and under the canopy of green and purple leaves, the group from the gorge has a clear view of the three carpenters counting lumber and moving it over to an area of bare earth staked out, a perimeter in twine.

"We's gonna run low on lumber soon, if we ain't gonna cut more trees," says the thinnest, Pik.

"Prelate said them's would help us with it," said Mustane, jerking his head toward the group emerging from the grotto.

"Don't look like any axe or saw on 'em.  They gonna chew us some boards?" laughs Artane, with the others joining him.  He calls out, "Welcome back, you lot.  Relief to see you didn't fall in or nothin'.  Hate to think we're building a mausoleum instead of a cabin."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:21, Thu 27 Feb 2020.

Zalbane had made a harness for herself out of strands of living light to haul the clock hand behind her as they made the trek back up the gorge, brows furrowed at the rapid appearance of this stranger.  They had a tiny part of an answer about the Gorge, but it would take days, even weeks of further exploration to uncover even a part of its secrets.

But as they emerged back into the campsite, Zalbane stared at Mustane with surprise. Alberic had said, but the proof was in the pear, as the saying went.  "Mustane!  How good it is to see you!  Alberic said you had quite a strange experience together."

"Bit strange, yeah, but blessed quick, I think.  For me, at least," he says as he lugs heavy boards across the camp.

"Definitely a blessing. I was in there significantly longer, and for most of that I was getting the cold shoulder treatment." He gives an exasperated. shrug. "I can't think why. Anyway, Mr Mustane - I, er, tracked down your friends, though I think they would like you to verify that I arrived here with you from person."

"Huh?  From Person?"  Mustane stops in his tracks.  "I met you in the exy pocket after they took me.  You came with me when I convinced 'em to trade for more chatty folk."  He shrugs.  "Builders know how to solve problems."  He continues the last few steps to the building site, dumps the lumber in a resounding clatter, and starts going back for more.

"Hmmm... I think I meant in person or from the Pocket Dimension." Alberic strokes his chin, thoughtfully. "A lengthy period without verbal speech will do that."

His demeanour brightens. "Anyway, Mr Mustane's terse demeanour quite saved the day. Anyway, I'm afraid I don't have a saw or an axe handy. We could probably improvise one from my crutch, though..." He looks thoughtfully at his clock hand, tied as it was to Zalbane's back.

This was apparently good enough for Tacita. The young delve shot a look at Nalla, notifying the woman of what she was about to do. Then she young woman moved towards the half mechanical man with his pack and pipe in front of her, handing it over if he so pleased.

She also held back a grin as she looked at the craftsmen again. Although they were quite different from her depictions of them, she thought there was also some truth in her depiction and the thought just made her smile.

Returning Tacita's glance with a nod more like agreement than permission, but surely some of each, Nalla addresses Alberic in a more detailed and descriptive manner.  ”Now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way welcome to our project, we are establishing a base camp at the moment, feel free to engage in the construction of any of the prepared kits around the camp, they all have detailed instructions included for use and placement.”

With what she obviously considers the only required introduction out of the way Nalla begins a tour of the site, stopping at each group of builders to ensure that they are following said instructions closely, more than a few times she adjusts the angle of something or helps level out the foundation of a structure but most of the changes are more cosmetic in nature than strictly required.

"Wonderful! Thank you!" Alberic nods to Nalla, and accepts his pack and pipe gratefully from Tacita. "That's very kind of you."

He slings the pack over his shoulder and clamps the pipe to his mouth, soon, producing a cloud of rose-scented pink smoke. He turns to Zalbane. "Might I recover my crutch I can walk without it, but it doesn't half level my posture out?"

This is true - without the staff, Alberic still walks at a spry speed but the lolloping gait clearly isn't designed to aid the human posture, and is unpleasant to watch. MoreqQuietly he adds to Zalbane: "You know, I really must ask you about your run-in with the Iron Wind when we get the chance. Absolutely  fascinating - I find so few other survivors. Even fewer who are in a fit state to speak..."

He then follows Nalla on the tour, studying the different layouts and instructions, clearly fascinated by them, and enthused by the prospect of work. Mercifully, this fascination means that for the first time, he actually falls silent, studying everything intently.

Zalbane hands over the heavy clock hand to Alberic so he can stand easily.  "Few indeed," she says of the Iron Wind.  As Alberic watches the creation of the camp, she says softly, "I was in the Children's Hall when the Iron Wind passed through our village. Just a touch of it brushed over the roof, turning it into a huge eye that opened into a mouth filled with butterfly wings and shards of glass.  The weight of it collapsed the building. Most of the children were killed.  One survived, with broken limbs, but I was touched by the 'blood' of the eye, and woke up with a shard of glass in my hand." She holds up the shimmering shard she wears around her neck. "It lets me focus my light, and I used that to help my kin rebuild, even though the Iron Wind changed me to look very different."

As the work, introductions, and commiserations continue, a good day's work is done and progress made in following Nalla's well-laid plan.  As the group collects to eat their evening meal together, a glowing light erupts in front of Nalla.  It quickly resolves itself into a hologram of Prelate Mez and begins speaking, audible to all.

"I received a message from Listran.  He used the last of his iotum to build a communication cypher.  He reports that he, Thar, and Kase have fallen into some kind of alternate dimension of crystal and edible corals.  They fled the purplish creatures floating in there and took refuge in a cave.  It is likely exigen, but as their pocket dimensions do not remain fixed in our world, even if they can find their way out, there's no telling where they'll emerge.  Efforts to rescue them have begun in Stirthal.

"In the meantime, you are reduced in skills and labor.  I've made arrangements for another to join your party.  He goes by the name of Lyel Veric and will be coming from Thriest using a travel bubble.  Create some kind of signal that can be seen day or night, so that he can reach you safely by dawn the day after tomorrow.

"Your party continues to have my confidence."

The message blinked out and the chirping silence of evening filled the gap.

"Ah, that is indeed the place we were, Mr Mustane!" Alberic declares. He turns to the others. "But I'm curious... you said many people, had been turning up here from other places? The Exigen might well be an explanation, but I wonder why they would be dumping various people in the same place. Might I ask if that is the purpose of the camp you are setting up here? To invesigate this phenomenon?"