Altaïr rubbed at his own beard thoughtfully. "Some of those in my village used stone knives. Steel was available, but expensive. Stone, however, was everywhere. Those who skinned, tanned; the basketweavers used them for their scraping. If I remember correctly, the best stone they found for such things was flint. Some few found obsidian, but I hope we find none of that nearby."

The last thing they needed here was a volcano. While he didn't know how far the land stretched in any direction, he knew that eventually, all land ended - be it in a mountain range that was impassable or an ocean they were ill-equipped to navigate. He had traveled on the ocean before. He knew he didn't want to repeat it.