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An end to a beginning ( A continuum)
And with that final thought, he took a step. He took a step back towards his pack, retreating from the edge as he laughed quietly to himself. He turned back to face the edge of the floating rock. It was now, or never. He sprinted for the edge, diving headfirst into the nether.

He was in free fall for nearly a hundred feet He deployed his parachute cloak as he neared the base. He knew he would run out of slack in the cable by the time he had reached the tip of the base. If that should happen, he knew, recoil from the cable would snap him in two, almost instantly.

He shook his head again, clearing out that thought. He knew better. He had calculated this out far too well for it to end in tragedy. His job was simple. All he had to do was place markers around the base of the rock that made up the floating island. It was simple. There was nothing that could go wrong.

Finally, all the slack in the cable was gone. He was now dangling nearly 200ft below the surface of the island. Now all he had to do was mark the base. He swung his weight forward, swinging towards the rock and latched on to one of the many rocks jutting out from the edge with his hand. He proceeded to make his way around the base, placing a marker here and a marker there. Within a few hours, his job was done and he was now right back where he had started marking the island.

At this point he realized there was something he had failed to plan for. He spent far too much time calculating the fall and the length of the cable needed for the descent that he had forgotten to figure out a way to get back onto the Island. He whistled sharply, trying to summon his Wyvern, but it was no use. The wind from the Twisting Nether was too great for his whistle to be heard.

He sighed, realizing how stupid of a mistake he had made. He let himself hang for several hours as he thought of a way out of his predicament. It finally came to him. He swung his weight back to the island, and again, grabbed hold to a rock jutting out of the surface. With one hand holding him to the island, he reached down to his belt, removing a throwing star. He embedded the small object into the island just above his belt line. He repeated the process, placing a second star in the rock a few inches to the left of the first.

He pulled his dagger free and plunged it into the rock, pulling himself up as he did so. He placed his feet squarely on the stars, giving him a place to stand. When he was sure they would hold his weight, he let go of the island and detached himself from his cable. He removed two more throwing stars and embedded them into the rock in similar fashion. He removed his second dagger and plunged it into the rock over his head. He pulled the first dagger free and plunged it into the rock as well. He pulled his weight up and used the throwing stars as foot holds. His ascent would take nearly a day and a half to complete.
Exhausted, he pulled himself to the surface of the island, panting in exhaustion. His muscles ached. He was parched. He had not taken any food or water with him when he descended to the base of the island. With his remaining strength, Lucinther drug himself over to his pack. If he were standing, he would have collapsed on the spot. He was too tired to eat. He was too tired to drink. He let himself drift into a dreamless sleep.

He awoke the next day, parched and exhausted. Every fiber of his being ached. He knew he had to summon the energy to rummage through his pack and find food. He used more effort than it should have taken to reach into his pack and pull out a small basket.

With a blanket, made from some expensive cloth (that he probably stole), spread out before him, he emptied the contents of the basket. He had a small array of food, ranging from Dirge's Kickin' Chimaerok Chops to Roasted Clefthoof. To drink, he had brought along some of the best Rumsey Rum's Black Label and Thistle Tea. A wonderful combination.

When he finished his small feast, it was time for fun. It had been far too long since he had had a chance to take the time and toy with his many gadgets. He sat down next to the bag and began pulling parts out, one by one.

He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and began tinkering. One after another several of the contraptions he pieced together began to move and converse, talking in a language that a robot could understand. Lucinther smirked. It was his own personal army of gadgets. The question was, could the perform the tasks he needed them to, though?

Lucinther spoke clearly as he issued commands to the small gadgets. The each fell into attention and listened (or at least appeared to listen) intently to the orders being assigned to them. When he finished, each robot eagerly began anchoring a thin cable to the small rock, and just as quickly, each began to rappel down the edges of the floating island.

Now for the real test. Lucinther once more summoned his Wyvern to him. He mounted the beast and took flight as he shouted commands to his gadgets. Again, just as before, the small robots did as instructed, planting seaforium charges all around the base of the floating rock. Then, each gadget released itself from its line dropping towards the nether, only to moments later hover back through the air. They hovered over to the Rogue as the charges went off.

His gadgets worked perfectly. He had now found a new way ( a much safer way) to gain entry into areas, and, even possibly, pilfer small valuable objects without having to risk his own life. It was perfect.

Sighing, he turned his Wyvern back towards the Stormspire, his army of gadgets hovering behind the entire way.
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