He sighed as he approached the ladder and looked up. Yep, that sure was a vertical climb, not even a slant or anything. Typical griffons. He contemplated the matter a few minutes more before moving over to the pantry. Nope, empty—he’d need to get it stocked again at some point when he managed to keep a few of his coins from being drank, sung, danced, and gambled away. Most of his share of the cut and what he could salvage from Blackport was spent getting contacts and information, so he had very little left.