[ It's going smoothly enough. Or so he hopes that's what the silence means. It's unsettling to have to do this when he can't see how she's doing, but he continues the tale—mostly from the perspective of Kyphon, the knight with the slightly less ridiculous name—and at one point, he regales them with a famous passage from the story, lines that had been read to him enough times as a child that he could still recite them from heart. ]

"The knight parried the assassin's blade mere inches from the spine of his king. Kyphon's blade hummed like the wind, slashing the enemy's throat. In mere moments, their forces lay vanquished—decimated by his mighty blows"...

[ And that's when he hears it. A little noise, like a rock being dislodged out of place, and the subsequent tapping of toes against the cliff face. A few of the more wary knights hop around at the sound, though they haven't yet leapt to investigate. To him, it's clear enough what's happened.

And so he's left with two options: continue the story and leave her to get herself out of the crater, or go over and help. It's easy to make a choice, but subterfuge and misdirection aren't his strong suit—he's suddenly, loudly, and a little awkwardly, clapping his hands together once to get the elementals' attention again as he speaks quickly. ]

And so, um—in modern Faerghus we now celebrate Kyphon's prowess with—tournaments. Of martial prowess. Which you should all try yourselves... now.

[ Then he nudge-kicks one of the knights at another of its kin, in hopes they'll start brawling.



Unbelievably, this seems to work, sort of, as they start to clamour in squeaky voices about what he assumes must be confusion, chivalry, and good-natured rivalry. He doesn't stick around to try and decipher it all, because this horrible lie has probably bought only bought about two seconds of time; his boot is still smoldering slightly as he hurries over to yank her up by her arms.

They should probably get out of here. ]