Loot.  Perhaps not the most mythical of goals, but who would object to finding vast quantifies of riches?  Of course it's also true that having made one's career as an adventurer does leave a the majority of such things to chance; you could only follow the crumbs you found.  Aurora lets out a small yawn and stretches her arms out idly, finding this long climb up the mountainside rather dull; and their gloomy, grey environment isn't particularly helping with that.  She keeps her bright, blue eyes lazily scanning the area, since she has nothing else to do but walk, while her tail gently sways behind her.  Next to her serpentine companion she seems little better armed. The kitsune wears only a light chain shirt - which has been tailored to freely allow her belly to expand - to protect herself and has a blade comparatively small to many others, if more keen.  While well toned she is also obviously not the strongest potential opponent, but that only further belies her true skill in combat.  Her brown fur easily keeps her plenty warm as they ascend into the cooler mountain climate despite only having simple clothing.<br/><br/>Volenzara's question pulls her attention away from wondering thoughts.  "I wouldn't complain.  It's taking longer to reach the pit than I would like and my feet are starting to bother me.  Besides, it would be rather convenient to take a break for our meal before starting on our way down the pit rather than stopping mid way."<br/><br/>[[Perception: 1d20+13  28]]<br/><br/>Suddenly something catches her attention and her eyes change focus from the naga to the rock slope just beyond her at the side of the trail.  The colored cloaks were good camouflage, but the certainly do not match the gravel surrounding them.  And then her keen ears pick up movement behind her and she turns her head around and looks up the face of the small cliff and whoever was hidden behind it.  "Well...I can't say I really expected this," she says, assuming that the other four had noticed their company.  Whether these are common marauders or people who had somehow discovered the whereabouts of the map doesn't matter; the vixen puts a hand to her weapon's hilt and shifts her stance to be ready for trouble.