Dirk felt a sharp tug on the line and was momentarily lifted a half meter off the ground. He needed to get out of this rig, and fast. Removing a knife strapped to his boot, Dirk quickly sliced through the line. He landed deftly on his feet and used the knife to swiftly extricate himself from his gear. Once free, Dirk looked at the top of the ledge, checking to see how far he had fallen. There was no way those goons could get a clean shot off at him from that height. He breathed a small sigh of relief. He wasn't out yet, but not having to worry about gunfire was a definite bonus. He quickly scanned his surroundings, taking in the valley floor. There was no time to see if the map had any pointers for escaping, so he relied solely on what he thought the floor would look like compared to the details of the rock face surrounding it.
He chose to go back the way he came, hoping there was a slope or ridge that he could climb to make it back to the outskirts of the village. From there he could arrange transport out and everything would be fine. But as soon as he started off, his skin had other ideas. Dirk stopped dead in his tracks. Well, if he couldn't go that way, then he'd have to take his chances around the rock face in the other direction.
Dirk set out, weaving his way through the brush, not noticing what his skin was really trying to tell him.