The Ladder

The south of Yak'koli is an exposed cliff-face with few ways up and none that aren't treacherous. In order to reach the access to the Shrines, you will need to brave the climb.

It's the only way up. These rickety ladders connect the people of the cliff to the people of the city.

"The Ladder!" Antunati announces, gesturing upwards to what can uncomfortably be described as sheer cliff.

The 'Ladder' is not one ladder, but many—a meander of narrow footings and hand-worn holdfasts fastened together by a junkyard mélange of patchwork ladders. It zigs and zags miserably up the sun-blasted, wind-scrawled cliff face until converges with the murky of overlapping jutting overhangs rising upwards and outwards to The Roost some four kilometers above.

At such a scale, it's an illusion of distance and perspective. Stare too long and the distance looks horizontal, rather than vertical—a pale golden plane leading towards a dark and mountainous peak huddled against the powder-teal sky. Stare too long and it seems to ebb—your mind cannot make sense of the distance, and as your measure fluctuates so does its seeming distance from you. Your eyes summon shapes from the uneven formations clutching to its underbelly. Stare too long and become dizzy.

"Not as bad as it looks," Antunati assures you as you wrestle your expression away from the cliff. His expression drops an iota as he sees your own. "There's a couple chainhikes along the way. We're not going by hand the whole way."