FAT49 #7 - The Master's Mast

Ranaweyt was the definition of guile. He would instantly find a way to where he wanted to go bobbing thru the mass of busy people as if they were a low-grade obstacle course. He would pause and turn back from time to time to see that the others were still on track. Then he would carry on, hopping from street to wall to confused trader's head to fence and to whatever else would serve as the next medium to his destination, a destination Jean and Beardface knew nothing about and judging from their conversation didn't much care.

"I know he's the 50th master and all but what is he the master of exactly?" Jean asked.
"Why... He's... He's a master of... paw-to-paw combat." Beardface said.
"Or, maybe it's a symbolic title and he's the master of our destiny or something."
"Hmm." Beardface was unconvinced.
"Also, we can't call ourselves FAT49 anymore since we've lost all the other masters."
"I concur, BAT49 has a more inherent poetry." Beardface said missing the point entirely.
"What!? I think you'll find JAT49 is more hard-hitting. " Jean said. She walked into Beardface who had stopped in his tracks.
"Alack! What mighty totem is this!?"

Flockboast City, as we know, was originally a humble fishing town. The naming of the city had somewhat failed in the honouring-the-past department. So, it was decided (by Maximillions Doshforthewin) to erect a symbolic structure that would truly pay homage to its history.
A vast collection of ships' masts were amassed and forged into a magnificent memento, simultaneously immortalising their fishing vessels and scuppering them (it should be noted that they now outsource all of the their squid). The Master's Mast (as it was named) now stands at the impressive height of rather-quite-tall being just over rather-tall and just under sub-cloud. It's really quite astonishing that FAT49 hadn't seen the hulking construction before until you discover the author only thought it up now. Ranaweyt stopped at the base of the towering mast.
"I don't suppose Valiant is up there?"
Ranaweyt gazed in the direction of some distant buildings.

Flock, you see, was a gathering of greedy fat cats individuals. They ran everything from behind the scenes and raked in land-whale-loads of money. They are rumoured to own sub-everything just over rather-quite-enough and and just under everything. As Flock expanded these masters of money would stop at nothing to remain on top. So, they built their houses on top of everyone else's. Situated high above Flockboast connected by invite-only bridges is the sky-city Flock, home to the super-elite (or so they like to think). Those elites hardly ever visit the ground, having all they could possible desire brought to them .
How, then, does one get there without an invite?

"We climb!" Felix said just in time to appear in this chapter.