Kohl peered down and down into darkness. It was an elevator shaft, and it seemed to descend completely down to the bottom level, Kohl’s appointed goal. He sheathed his sword and swung into the void, moving down the elevator shaft without thought or concern. His hands found grip without searching. His feet fell confidently upon the slimmest of ledges. So casual was the climb that it never occurred to Kohl to be grateful for the gymnastic experiences of his youth. Anyone with less of a rocky start in life would surely have grown nervous as the darkness deepened the further he went, and his eyesight grew almost useless.
Finally, Kohl leapt the final few feet to the ground. His boots raised dusty rings into the air. His sword was drawn even before the dust settled, and he held it at the ready
