Rahel had found the bodies of the Dwarven party and their orc attackers an hour before. Now she stood at the base of an ancient stairway cut into the living rock of the mountain. The sole surviving dwarf and his pursuers left ample tracks as they made their way to the steps leading to the heights above; she did not need the skill of her Masca cat companion to follow the spoor. Sending the large cat ahead she climbed carefully up the interminable ramp. Whoever had carved the steps must have had longer legs than the current inhabitants of the land. She and the cat had to lift their legs higher than usual to make the next step. How the dwarf managed to keep his distance from the orcs on the path was a bit of a mystery.
It took almost another hour for the pair to reach the top. All caution as they came close to the end they peered out on the the landing where an altar of sorts dominated the circular opening. On the far side of the circle away from them the rock wall gave way to a drop off. The orcs stood at the edge staring down and yelling at something below.
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