Scaling down from my vantage point proved harder than I indicated.  Sitting in the cold and damp hadn’t helped and although the bleeding seemed to have slowed, my wound was still painful to the extent that it impaired my ability to climb.  I really hoped I wouldn’t get into a fight.  Firstly, my injury would vastly reduce my chances of winning.  Secondly, I really hated fighting anyway.  I always felt it was more of a win if I could get what I wanted without all the associated dangers that combat brings.

I would, however, make an exception for that Jackalman guard who had caused me all this trouble and forced this roundabout detour.

Normally I’d have swiftly scaled down the building, particularly as I didn’t want to keep Gertrude waiting.  However much I fancied myself a gentleman, Gertrude was going to have to be patient tonight

I took care to climb slowly and despite one alarming moment when my hand slipped off a wet windowsill, I was soon back on the ground heading towards my chosen point to cross the wall.

Had this been daytime, I may have tried to travel by roof top.  As is was, there was no one around at this time of night.  I made good time and soon I was stood peering up at the DownTown side of the Faircrest wall.

From the base of the wall, I couldn’t see the top in the gloom and the angle I was forced to crane my neck to look at it precluded seeing any of the torches and their owners making their way along the top.

Despite the lack of visibility, I was sure in my calculations.  The guards up above would be clearing out of this section of the wall in anticipation of Gertrude’s arrival.

Crazy Steve would probably just bound up the wall whooping like a nutcase while he did it.  Partly because he is, in fact, a nutcase and goes a bit crazy when he is high up and partly because I’d stolen his ropes.  Silently thanking Steve for his contribution, I removed a length of rope and tied the end into a loose noose and worked the knot around the handle of one of the daggers I’d appropriated.  It wasn’t going to be as effective as a grappling hook, but hopefully the weight of the dagger would enable me to get some height on my throw and the makeshift lasso would catch on something. It would be better than trying to climb the wall with no equipment.

I gave the rope a few swings to build up momentum then threw it as hard as I could.  My observation showed plenty of spikes and other pointy things, so I was hopeful of catching something.

As it happened, my luck was still not anywhere near good.  I heard the dagger clattering against something and then the rope started to pool at my feet.  With speed born of a genuine desire to avoid being stabbed, I skipped a few steps backwards.  The rope and, more importantly, the dagger were on its way down quite quickly and the best place to be was not underneath it.

Once gravity had done its work, I took a look at the rope.  The good news was that the dagger had landed point down in the ground and somehow hadn’t damaged the rope. The bad news was that Gertrude was on her way and I was no closer to the top of the wall.

I coiled up the rope for another throw.