Eventually they are; the mountains grow steeper and the ground grows steeper, going from a switchbacked path to stairs running up the hill to a final passage of steep and narrow stairs that runs up a cliff. At the top of the cliff, a small watchtower with a red tiled roof guards the stairway, and beyond it a little river valley where a river winds through cornfields before plunging into the jungle below. Not far beyond the watchtower is a village where a few dozen simple peasant homes and half a dozen nicer pavillions cluster behind a low wall of unmortared stone.
The guards look nervous about bringing an unknown into the town, but the ones on duty don't seem interested in contradicting a cultivator about it.