( ...an estimate, as much as an instruction. He suspects the great outdoors will deliver them, though they lack for certainties or reassurance. Earlier, when they climbed through the building's groaning belly, he retained enough of the lay of the gilded land to speculate on their passage. Now, they will face interference: great, toppled ornaments, crumbled pillars, the many trampled dead.
He shudders, climbing to his feet, recovering balance — clutching a hand against a wall that shivers, then sheds rubbles in his handprint's wake. What lingers upright here cannot be trusted. But what fell — )
Seek blood. Those who ran and were culled would have fled to gateways.
( And Wei Ying who dared insinuate the dead did not answer them in this house. Perhaps necromancers are too sworn to their habits, blind and reduced by reliance on obvious, plain signs.
The wards will not travel with that. When they withdraw, they do so with empty shielding, paused defences. Projectiles rain brilliantly, skidding and scratching ground. He waits, waves Zhou Fei paused also with a raised hand, if she will heed them. Another fusillade. Yet more pause.
However their bows are armed, there is a pattern to the replenishment of their attackers' forces. They must act — soon. )
Unless you require more time to amend insults, we run at count of — ( More projectiles. ) Twenty, after this shower of arrow tips ceases.
no subject
The stairs.
( ...an estimate, as much as an instruction. He suspects the great outdoors will deliver them, though they lack for certainties or reassurance. Earlier, when they climbed through the building's groaning belly, he retained enough of the lay of the gilded land to speculate on their passage. Now, they will face interference: great, toppled ornaments, crumbled pillars, the many trampled dead.
He shudders, climbing to his feet, recovering balance — clutching a hand against a wall that shivers, then sheds rubbles in his handprint's wake. What lingers upright here cannot be trusted. But what fell — )
Seek blood. Those who ran and were culled would have fled to gateways.
( And Wei Ying who dared insinuate the dead did not answer them in this house. Perhaps necromancers are too sworn to their habits, blind and reduced by reliance on obvious, plain signs.
The wards will not travel with that. When they withdraw, they do so with empty shielding, paused defences. Projectiles rain brilliantly, skidding and scratching ground. He waits, waves Zhou Fei paused also with a raised hand, if she will heed them. Another fusillade. Yet more pause.
However their bows are armed, there is a pattern to the replenishment of their attackers' forces. They must act — soon. )
Unless you require more time to amend insults, we run at count of — ( More projectiles. ) Twenty, after this shower of arrow tips ceases.