"No tomorrow without yesterday," Progress in Kirkwall, progress everywhere; all lowered over the deep warrens. The dark. "Everything's built on someone's back."

Jayce shines his mace. Doesn't take an sculptor to spy the clay, still wet with thumbprints. A man of progress.

"C'mon. Gonna show you something."

He doesn't wait for agreement, just starts away, up a narrow strand of crag.