Benedict quietly rises to his feet, following the party to the summoning chambers.  Rare was it used to drive a dagger into the heart of the abyss, and he waited with impatient hands as the spell was prepared with a painful eye for detail.  Any one with a hint of knowledge knew that even a single misstep could cost them dearly, perhaps seperate a companion, and any one individual caught out alone in this hostile environment would not last long.  Even as a strong, unified front, there stands only a chance of success no matter the assurances given and the obvious abilities of those that dared.  With one last, clean breath of air, they were gone, brought to the heart of the Abyss.<br/><br/>He immediately grabs his hat before the eye-blistering wind can pull it off his head, pulling it low to shield his face from sand and rocks whipped about like stinging bees.  He turns to squint as his companions as they take advantage of the grugarch's natural abilities to serve as a scout, craning his head back to watch her ascend.  Though her shift was immodest in the best of times, when pressed flush to form by the wind, and soaring right above them so that any curious soul could peer right up past the fabric to toned legs and firm bottom, Benedict felt himself stir faintly.  He rubs, irritably, at the place where legs meet and refocuses on something that isn't as alluring to keep himself from distraction with licentious thoughts, frowning as he observes the hilly ground level.  Easily ambushed from all directions, and only Ariel able to serve as immediate eyes on threats that could be coming from all directions even now.<br/><br/>At the report, he looks to Orlando expectedly.  It was, end of the day, his show.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>