<div class="floatleft">(http://i1326.photobucket.com/albums/u649/wigglebiscuit/Lydia/HumeFemale_zps9b0dc3da.jpg)</div>At the lip of the grotto, Lydia checks her compass. Between the brightness of the Marchioness's pip and the dimness of the torches, the Dungeon effectively makes her decision for her.<br/><br/>"To the Marchioness it is, then," she says absently to Dex and Lex. "Let's hope I make it before nightfall." A safe bed and a warm meal--traditional first-level offerings from the Counselors--sound very nice about now.<br/><br/>After considering the landscape, there is really only one viable option. This comes as no surprise; the Dungeon favors those who take the time to consider their surroundings. It's those who rush ahead who suffer the consequences. Of course, sometimes the most obvious path is also a trap...<br/><br/>Lydia sits down long enough to strip off her shoes and socks. She bundles her socks into the toe of her boots, which she ties together and slings over her shoulder. She adjusts the weight of her pack so it doesn't shift unexpectedly and cause her to lose her balance, and swings over the side, searching with her toes for purchase along the cliff face. She has no doubt of her skills in climbing, but only hopes the rapevines and any other threats keep a distance while she is exposed on the side of the cliff.<br/><br/>Working one hand- or foot-hold at a time, Lydia picks her way down.<br/>