It always rains in Civilization's End. Today was no different, as the clouds got caught up on the cliff's edge around the town and released their payload. If one were to approach from the city, there was no way to the top of the cliff. The face is too great to climb, and to approach from the other direction one would have to brave the noxious fumes of the Sulphur Lakes, and cross both the rivers Oblivion and Memory. No sane person would even attempt it.
The view, though, from the cliff face is quite beautiful, thought the lone, cloaked figure. He had traveled the long way around; his nose and eyes still burning from the Sulphur Lakes, and not only did he cross the rivers, but he drank from them. It was an eerie calm, as the winds did not reach this high. He reached for his flask, and took a long drink of weak mead. Then, with a ringing of steel, he lifted the blade Dauntless above his head, pointing directly skyward. He then twisted the blade, and plunged it deep into the stone of the cliff. He withdrew his hood, pulled the cloak from around himself, and folded it neatly where steel met stone, taking great care that the brooch faced upward. Then, he left.
The citizens of Civilization's End were unaware though. Their view was shadowed by the dark clouds. For it always rains in Civilization's End.