You drift through the air toward the ground, which is barely discernable from the dark sky. You must land on top of a cliff that overlooks a small settlement of adventurers in a remote corner of
Kneeling, closing your eyes against the imminent death that will come from the automatic rifle that is pointed at your head, wielded by an international saboteur whose path you have unwisely crossed, you pray. Your ears begin ringing, until an all-encompassing roar blocks out all other sounds. Suddenly it is very cold, and gravity disappears. When you open your eyes, they cannot see. A flash flood has taken you.
Holding your breath, clutching at the ceiling of a submerged tunnel, kicking with your feet, trying to reach an exit, hope fades. Turning back will result in death, for a killer is in pursuit. The lungs begin to burn, and panic sets in. Just before drowning, you are pulled out of the water, then…unconsciousness.
Friends and family embark on a boat that is also a truck, journeying toward sanctuary.
Hanging from a dime edge on a huge quartzite boulder, blood oozes from your fingers.
Home is a tent in the desert. Life is a dialectic of peace and the extreme.
You are in the world of Ibex Proper.