Lost and Clueless (... and May the Gods themselves Weep at What we Have wrought)

[Ethrael]

Mordo looks up and grins, almost darkly. They will find us, won't they? Before waiting for an answer he takes a run-up and leaps up onto the piles of slag, running up to the top as fast as possible and ignoring any stumbling that he might come across.

Balance: (1d20+5)[17]
Climb: (1d20+3)[22]