The two of you stood among the rocky cliff faces of the Earthen Peak, a barren, destitute mountain region in the eastern parts of Drangleic. The ever-present dark of the last two locales of your journey had finally given way to clouds and fresh air-- albeit the dark, rolling kind of cloud and the sulphuric smell of the poisonous springs all around.

"What I wouldn't do for some sun.." Lucatiel sighed, the sound slightly amplified against the metal of the mask she always wore and only took off to eat and sleep. And never once, around you, did she dare to remove it, nor had you thought to ask. "..half-sunken cave-ports, lost fortresses at the ends of the earth, now this." she chuckled softly, a hand on the chin of her mask as she looked up.

"Drangleic.. this place is truly wretched, would you not agree?"