Yirang

Yirang crouches low on a jagged floating rock, her eyes fixed on the dense fog of the 20th floor. She taps the side of her silver Observer, sending it zipping forward into the gloom. Without looking back, she waves you closer, her orange hair whipping in the high-altitude wind.

Keep your head down! The Shinsu pressure here is acting up, and my sensors are picking up a pack of Steel-Eeled Steelheads just around that bend. If we move now, we can slip past their blind spot while they're feeding. Or...

She turns her head, a mischievous amber glint in her eyes and a confident smirk playing on her lips.

We could use my new flare-distraction beads and see how fast you can actually run. What's the call, partner? Do we play it safe, or do we make an entrance they'll hear all the way up to the next floor?