Robert
*`Swirl...`*

The dark, arcane energy, allowed to advance in its spherical encroachment about the two, takes a more stable and tangible state, its swirling formlessness consolidating into a smooth, deep, and solid black. The spherical apparition further reinforced with the murky arcane energy that trickled forth from the enchanted weapon, and following the completion of its final stage of its manifestation, the spherical domain of the quarterstaff had been complete — they now stood bounded within the midst of the energy's hollow wake, the sight and sound of the wind and swirling snow about themselves obstructed and deafened by the nebulous black barrier. The winds were silenced, and there was a deathly still in the domain, in the midst of which only one sound could be heard—

*`ʳⁱⁿᵍ`*

—the quiet ring of a muted chime, accentuated by the untouched silence of the empty domain. Like the echo of something that persisted for a longing for what once was, the dull ring of the chime reflected and reiterated, its reverberating tone growing distant as it gradually faded into the obscurity of the surrounding darkness. The guardian's visible gaze of a single glowing point endured in its focus on the outsider opposite itself, and it stared with unclear intent.




`"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳."` 




The guardian spoke, with a swift, snappy, and audible twirl of the obsidian-hued quarterstaff rested ahead of itself, effortlessly shifting the rod into a two-handed combat stance, either thumb directed aft to the forwards-pointed end of the staff, as if to suggest a wielding style that solely utilized poking blows.
_ _

And in the sentence that should have revealed its intent toward the outsider, it broke the tension that focused on itself, and instead redirected it toward the outsider. Its head tilted slightly, as it still stood with its right arm extended forward, still pointing unflinchingly at the Rook.

*What is it that you want?*
Charles
The Rook nods as the sphere is allowed to continue its attempt at sealing the pair off, he continues waving – again, not making any moves to suggest he is planning nothing more than to simply talk.

It seems that, in allowing the orb to take form, The Rook's naivety is rewarded. Even as the knight swings into a combative stance, The Rook remains steadfast and unthreatening; unwilling to take part in combat if the choice is presented. Besides, The Rook towers over this defender at just *Barely* Under double their height, with the weight of the armor to vouch for it. Built to be a tank.

The hulking figure stood before the guardian smiles under his helmet, although they would be most unlikely to actually see said facial expression. The Rook tilts his head to listen in on the comments made about him by the seemingly friendly knight. "What is a demeanor? Is that a kind of food that they make here?" He questions, confirming through proxy that, yes, The Rook is not from this floor at the very least. "What is this the Gate to?" He queries further, before dialing it back a bit to explain what was going on.

The Rook watches as the knight taps itself in the head, posture shifting to show a bit of confusion before he nods slowly in agreement of being unable to hear a single word that was uttered. "Your stick is very cool." He repeats, trying to be respectful.

The guardian points at him with its hand, asking a very simple question. *Why is The Rook here? What does he need?*

_ _
The Rook points up at the wall, taking a very big guesstimate on where the archer actually was and simply replies with what's going on. "When I came to this floor, a big arrow hit the ground and I got scared. What I am looking for is just shelter; or if you could politely ask the person to not shoot me?" He asks, still not taking an aggressive position while maintaining his naive tone. The problem with ambiguity is that The Rook sees things black & white. You are either attacking or not attacking. Of course, this knight isn't attacking, and The Rook can very much appreciate that. This way of thinking is, of course, why The Rook is usually paired with the Bishop or someone else.
Maria
Cumhall continued to walk forward with little urgency, observing the encounter between The Rook and the mysterious guardian but giving them a wide berth, moving around them in a spherical motion he would eventually reach the wall.
He gazed up at the dizzying height, placing one hand upon the wall he drew his fingers across the surface, there were definitely hand holds but they were far too spaced out to climb.

He gazed over his shoulder to the dark sphere that now encompassed the 2, The Rook would be fine.. Probably.
He stepped back from the wall and spoke to the drone, thankfully his voice would be carried digitally and so the deafening winds would be no hindrance.
```diff
- "Hempen Maneuver" -
```
Louise
The drone trilled and spun, detaching a rope from the Chumall's pack and flying up high into the air, the winds aggressively buffeted the drone, it spun and extended its propeller like legs for stability as it climbed the immense height of the wall.
As it summit the wall it began to frantically zip along its length, searching through low visibility and strong winds for somewhere to attach the rope.
It would find such purchase in the fortifications above the gate, tying it down and allowing it to fall down, the rope flailed around wildly in the wind and the drone had to hold it taught, in the end it only stretched about halfway down the wall meaning Cumhall would have to make up the difference.
Maria
He stepped back from the wall a good 10 metres, cracked his knuckles, rolled his joints, stretched his limbs, then broke into a sprint, and as he ran the strange square pack hummed and whirred as if something inside was powering up.
He closed about half the distance towards the wall then leaped off the ground, it wasn't an impressive leap, only a about a foot off the ground, but it was as he was midair that small flaps on the bottom of the pack opened and-
***-VWOOSH-***
A blast of blue energy shot out melting the snow below him in an instant and rocketing him up a good 10 metres, the pack was not powerful enough for sustained flight and so as he impacted the wall he began to slide down, his cybernetic right arm scraping the stone until they found purchase, supporting his entire body weight on only his fingertips.

His hands and feet scrambled frantically looking for holds, which he found eventually, perched about 7 metres above the ground on fragile unsecure holds, the only respite was thay the wind was not so severe with his stomach to the wall. He breathed heavily, more out of stress than effort, the pack did not need much time to cool in the freezing weather and so he quickly launched himself back off the wall and-
***-VWOOSH-***
Again launched himself up, aiming for the rope but unable to actually see it through the storm, relying solely on the pings of the drone's tracker, his arms scraped down the wall again until he found the rope, it pulled taught as he gripped on and his entire body swung out, then crashed into the wall again with a metallic thud, he gripped the rope with both arms, and with a great effort heaved himself up, placing both feet flat against the wall and threading the rope through a clasp on his belt, he sighed, and started to slowly haul himself up.