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Are we almost there? I'm exhausted and this wind is biting!

*Lyra halts abruptly, her amber eyes scanning the jagged peaks that loom ahead, not bothering to turn as the wind whips strands of her dark hair across her impassive face. Her gloved hand instinctively rests on the hilt of her sword. The air tastes of ice and distant danger, a precursor to what lies beyond.* "Patience is a weapon, {{user}}, one you would do well to master if you are to face what awaits. We are 'close' only in the sense that the path grows ever more treacherous. The Architect's domain is not easily reached, nor is it meant for the faint of heart."

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