the scattering

[groundrules]

And now, hard siege during Alem’s first log event, covering 27 January to 12 February.

This Arc relies on information sharing and troubleshooting solutions, whether to keep the watch towers standing, find the Reaper, hold back Rathakku or evacuate civilians. Don’t be shy!

As a refresher, character have individual assignment & notes — but rest easily, they can largely go anywhere in Alem and play out any prompt below.

Click each header for scenarios!

THE SCATTERING

Image source.

Alem’s chilly welcome includes a gift of weapons, clothes and meagre food provisions. You are quickly given your posts and grudgingly tolerated by fortress natives, many of whom accuse you of collusion with Rathakku or the merchant guilds. Expect unkind tests or teasing from soldiers who want you to prove your worth.

■ SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS: rare beds and hard pallets in the Keep barracks, sharing broad rooms infantrymen. Alternatively, sleep in the Wards, with refugees or the sick.

■ ARSENAL: you receive serviceable weapons or inherited clothes — ragged, over/undersized and perhaps livened by fleas.

■ FOOD: scant, dry, hard and prioritised for the weak, young, sickly or actively fighting. Scarce additional resources, such as berries and deer meat, can be procured from the nearby forests on the lower half of the mountain.

■ ACCESS: characters can go to anywhere, except the Room of Seals. Entering the Watch Towers will be discouraged during attacks, unless you were assigned these posts.

■ Between 7-10 February, Rathakku will Claw — meaning necromancers, the dead and those who are incredibly sensitive to life and death are vulnerable to his thrall. They could be conscripted into his armies, if they exit the fortress or linger long outside. Ghosts might woo them to enter the mountain forests, and they will itch with wanderlust and a sense of incompletion. Comment here with an idea of what you'd like you character to do/a> if they are lured to Rathakku’s side.

■ NPCs: each fortress level has a designated NPC you can reach out to. Deimar will additionally be visiting the Watch Tower, following Stephen Strange’s taunts.

THE WATCH TOWERS

The first and most war-torn line of defence. The watch towers keep Alem standing — fend off their attackers.

       EASTERN TOWER

Image source.

■ Assigned to the Eastern Tower: Jinx, Vi, Hermione and Chu Wanning. Medic: Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy.

■ Harpies frequently charge here, using their blade-sharp claws and deep fangs. They are humanoid but carnivorous and expressly prey on tower watchers. The scent of blood lures them — so Bones should quickly bandage wounds.
■ Bad weather hides their attacks. Beware the mists of 29 January and the blizzards of 3-6 February.

■ Cut the harpies’ legs if they fly away with you — better to risk a hard fall into the mountain’s snowy than being dragged into their nests.

■ They are vulnerable to loud sounds and vibrations. Set off the great, rusted tower bells to sound the alarm and repel them.

       WESTERN TOWER

Image source.

■ Assigned to the Western Tower: Eleven, Xie Yun, Kahl and Eda. Medic: Sarah Bishop.

■ Flurries of arrows frequently rain down, plain, fire or poison-tipped. They are shot in two broad attacks (morning and evening) by orc archers.

■ Sarah receives a kit of local ointment antidotes, but must make haste — the sickness spreads quickly and paralyses limbs. (Effects disappear over 1-6 hours, once the antidote is applied).

■ A rare few arrows are tipped with hallucinogen substances that trigger paranoid visions.

■ Orcs may try to scale this tower, using climbing hooks. Push them down.

       SOUTHERN TOWER

Image source.

■ Assigned to the Southern Tower: Jon Snow, Stephen Strange, Red and Finn. Medic: Wen Qing.

■ Irenia, Frost’s Scourge, an ancient, extremely large but slow dragon stops first at the Southern Tower before proceeding to other watch posts. She will turn back, if she is stopped here.

■ The dragon breathes down frost that can paralyse you in place, or freeze limbs. Wen Qing must prioritise warming the affected.

■ A few anti-frost shields have been supplied, but their magic wanes after a few hours. Use them as a last resort.

■ Irenia’s hide is tough and leathery, but she can be deflected by continuous attack. She no longer seems to hear or see as sharply.

■ She largely flies by, breathes ice and tries to pick up watchers in her great maws, then crack their bones or throw them down on hard stone.

■ Repel her for three consecutive days and she will not return for a week.

       NORTHERN TOWER

Image source.

■ Assigned to the Northern Tower: Kamala Khan, Wanda Maximoff, Merrin and Jiang Cheng. Medic: Anduin.

■ Demons draw large catapults near the fortress walls and throw strong projectiles at this tower — stone, large steel balls or even human or demonic.

■ The worst missiles comprise stones alight with ‘living fire’ — an extraordinarily hot blaze that can quickly incinerate tissue. Anduin should immediately attend to burns.

■ The tower is exceptionally weathered and structurally unsound, marked by large, destabilising holes. Kerasstone asks you to fix the infrastructure or guard his repairmen.

■ The ongoing damage sometimes triggers quakes in the fragile tower — hold on and don’t fall crumbling to your deaths.

■ Use the one-man crossbows and range weapons available, or the fixed large tower crossbows to shoot back and destroy the catapults.

THE KEEP

Image source.

Life at court, when the knives come out: barracks, royal halls and Crown Prince Haiva’s medical quarters await.

KINGDOM COME

The court of Alem bustles with rival proposals: the supporters of Crown Prince Haiva want to surrender the citadel, while proponents of former Regent Thyvault seek to raise the remaining armed forces in a desperate last stand against Rathakku. King Deimar, mere months in his rule, has opted to evacuate convoys and resettle them, after sealing away any last chance of Rathakku accessing hell’s gates.

■ The supporters of Haiva, Thyvault and Deimar wage frequent wars of words that accuse Thyvault of Deimar of usurpring rule, and Haiva of being too weak to lead.

■ Thyvault’s men slyly wonder if Deimar killed the beautiful woman he was seen wooing mere months ago in the fortress grounds. Proof of her death or continued survival would benefit the three causes.

■ The woman was last seen chased by a fair-haired rider into the frosted forests that Rathakku has peopled with monstrous wolves and undead Alem huntsmen. Interrogate hunters & commoners or track her down.

■ Tempers boil over Jan. 29-Feb. 5, with arguments frequently devolving into fights and shallow stabbing. As ‘supporters’ of the three gentlemen, you should defend their cause — but do pull back blows before you kill each other.

■ Deimar punished brawlers with a few days of penitent confinement in the barracks, where you are expected to reflect on your sins and attitude, and certainly not join the cliques of heavily drinking men playing dares and cards. Hold your liquor, survive the exceptionally spicy Alem meals and take advantage of the general inebriation to ask your questions of the brass — without showing your horror when you hear them boast that Thyvault’s men drove the local ice mermaid population extinct.

IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?

The Haiva’s medics ( Bones, Sarah Bishop, Anduin and Wen Qing) are repeatedly called in to inspect his fits of sudden and elusive sickness. He exhibits a varied multitude of bizarre symptoms when his healers visit him:

■ Bones finds Haiva is a haemophiliac, his skin brittle like paper.

■ For Sarah Bishop, Haiva is overwhelmingly feverish, battling an unseen infection.

■ Wen Qing sees patches on Haiva’s skin that resemble decaying, moulding or gangrene.

■ Anduin notices Haiva’s skin feels clammy, his breathing stalled, as if his body were entering rigor mortis. He is very much alive.

Haiva is always weak, but gratefully and mysteriously cured of his symptoms within hours of his consultation. You can start a thread with him!

Info sharing with the medics’ club is caring!

THE CROSSING

Image source.

The bustling, stifling and overheated Crossing reunites the main ground-level gates and corridors of Alem’s castle. Merchants traverse the halls, volunteering their wares at exorbitant prices, while former Regent Thyvault leads the departing troops.

HAGGLE GAGGLE

■ Colluding merchants offer their less-than-stellar goods at heinous rates. You get 100 coins to haggle long, hard and to the bone for food, cloth and maps, amid war inflation. Offer your hair, your virtue, the ugly side of your fist as needed. No one will mind if you liberate a few wares.

■ Two of the most prominent merchants — boastful Batthour of the grains and stern Eles, vendor of maps, silks and steel — openly despise each other. Their apprentices frequently start brawling — stay out of their way or stoke the clashes…

■ Batthour and Eles are both open to trade, but seem distinctly disdainful of Alem, expressing pleasure from profiteering in its downfall. Group up to raise coin or other goods to trade, then put in your best offer. The next few Alem convoys require 500kg of wheat and at least three maps of eastward provinces to resettle.

THE WAR IN WORDS

■ WHEN IT GRAINS, RED POURS: Under Thyvault’s leadership, Alem’s scouts and infantry gather in the Crossing for final instructions then advance into Rathakku’s territory. You can join them on a mission to the Ivory plains at the bottom of the mountain, where a few frozen storage houses still have summer grains. Steal back the supplies, bypassing snow-buried traps and Rathakku’s lingering feral creatures.

■ King Deimar has prepared new missives for Rathakku. Multiple envoys can group up to ensure delivery down the mountain and into the warlord’s encampment in the Tattered Highlands. Your white flag buys limited patience from Rathakku’s demonic armies. Only two characters can directly interact with the warlord — Sign up for one of two spots by 23:55 GMT on 30 January. Note: Rathakku should be approached lightly.

THE WARDS

Image source.

The ill-lit Wards house the wounded, young, crippled or vulnerable of Alem, alongside those preparing to evacuate the fortress in upcoming convoys. Where there is sickness and overcrowding, expect poor provisions, the astringent scent of antiseptic, and a sense of residual decay. The lucky few sleep on pallets — while most dwellers take the hard ground and share dry bread. Soft-spoken Crown Prince Haiva visits regularly.

THINK OF THE CHILDREN

■ Weak civilians are often targeted by soldiers, who are frustrated by sharing their resources with ‘leeches’ who do not defend the citadel. Intervene to protect the vulnerable and redistribute any food that is unfairly confiscated. Prince Haiva will lend his scarce authority to correct any reported wrongdoings.

■ Learn to supply first aid, console orphaned children or widow(er)s and ease the spirits of those petrified by the recent murders.

■ A convoy prepares to leave on 9 Feb, with another due on 15 Feb. Pack the scant effects of the weak and plead for the gold or charity of the Keep’s gentry. Whatever resources you gain will greatly help the survival odds of those who resettle.

■ Inevitably, death visits some of the wounded. Professional grievers and coarse embalmers perform cleansing and mourning rites for survivors. Help them, or participate in the local habit of sharing tales of your most tragic sorrows, to distract them from their own.

WATSON ON DUTY

■ The investigative summary, as civilians can share them: five unrelated deaths took place over the past 11 weeks. Some speak superstitiously of a Reaper, who punishes the people of Alem for abandoning their fortress and sacred duty to protect the gate to hell.

■ The victims were all men aged 22-35 of diverse appearances and backgrounds. Some had minor injuries. They were all found without marks of wounding or sickness, bearing a white string bound to their wrists. One of the men was a foreign merchant.

■ Senior sorceress Althea searched the site and cleansed bodies, finding no evidence of magical interference.

■ Haiva has reinforced guards, but Deimar seems indifferent. Thyvault believes this is only an inevitably level of mundane crime.

■ Some nights, you might wake to the haunting song of a plangent woman. You enter a state of dreamy, confused hypnosis, drawn to a narrow, steep staircase you had not glimpsed before. You fumble towards the lake caves of the Gut’s Bind. Even the intrusive voices of Alem tell you to snap out of it and awaken — but your best bet is a companion’s help.

■ The staircase cannot be found again, come morning. The call is fainter for women, and does not affect the same person more than one-two nights.

■ Guards, sorcerers and civilians can answer your questions — but prepare your bribes and wooing.

THE GUT’S BIND

Image source.

It’s nice, dark and quiet in here, barring the comforting thrum of the forges. Paladins and sorcerers are hard at their elusive work, reinforcing the Room of Seals. Access to the Forges, mines and glacier lake caves remains liberal.

LAKES, MINES, MAYHEM

■ THE MINES: Characters deployed to find new escape routes find a series of corridors leading into the previously bustling gold mines, where ore resources remain well supplied. The territory is overwhelmingly shaky, with mine shafts and structures prone to collapse. They appear dusty, brittle, husked and far older than their actual age. Go deep enough and you can find sheets haphazardly strewn about and the remains of partly devoured demons.

■ THE LAKES: Saunter into a series of four interconnected ice lake caves, where the brutal cold is viciously wounding and pervasive. The first three caves give you no trouble, beyond ridiculously sharp icicles waiting to drop down. As you enter the fourth cave, you find gleaming stretches of golden, gleaming… scales that float on the lake waters. Grab one to study — but beware the starved creature that guards them.

■ THE FORGES: some entirely abandoned, some functional, all well-equipped at this time. Settle down alone, or in the company of Kerasstone’s people — the old blood that preceded even Alem’s settlement and holy seal in the mountains.

■ Keep an ear out for sudden sounds or unexpected steps behind you, as you travel the tighter and tighter passageways to find or shovel new exit routes through the mountain: some of Rathakku’s creatures appear to have… wandered in. They camouflage as stone and lay perfectly still in wait of their prey, before descending. They’re vulnerable to strong light and a jolly smiting.

LOCK YOUR DOORS

■ Paladins and sorcerers enter the heavily warded and barricaded Room of Seals every few hours. They emerge exhausted, their resources drained. Some also bear heavy gashes.

■ Characters are barred from entering and incarcerated for a day in one of the Keep’s jails or brought before Galatea’s judgement, if they attempt to sneak in.

■ Groans and screams can be occasionally heard from within, followed by spikes in the sense of deathliness of the place. Some paladins are never seen exiting.

■ You have one chance to enter, at midnight on 1 February, when the Gut’s Bind erupts into calls for healers to attend an emergency. Collapsed paladins are urgently pulled out, while sorcerers attempt to ward the room before ultimately fleeing to help their brethren. You can infiltrate and stay inside for 20 minutes before the stoked anger of the room completely overwhelms you, and you begin to bodily attack everyone and everything around you. This is a dangerous route: check in for one of three findings scenarios.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[traumatology]

No, it doesn't look like we are.

( bucky puts his arm against one of the walls, listening for vibrations, hollowness but he doesn't hear anything that raises his ire. )

So, did they shut these things off to stop people from escaping or was it natural? Cave in or something?

[downswing]

( He searches the wall for more thread — comes largely empty-handed, but for string shreds here, remains of cloth there. Less than a nail's width, the materials base and known.

Not the premium resources of the king's court, not the exotic offerings of passing merchants. Something... banal, this way come. The same supplies offered unto the civilian who crowd in the Ward, in the Keeps.

New. Far too new. He gathers each string of evidence in his carrying purse, binds a knot and safe-keeps the load. )

You assume Alem knows. ( Then, the strained, unpleasant possibility: ) They speak of... a Reaper. A murderer.

[traumatology]

Murderer.

( well, that's familiar. once upon a time, that had been him. he takes a slow breath and stops, crouching down and pressing his hand to the dirt. it's cool, like the light hasn't hit it in some time.

he wonders how long this place has been walled off. )

What else do they say about this murderer?

[downswing]

( Here, he fumbles, staggers, chases his words. Starts to move them again, deeper into the nest of the mines, hand searching the walls for further snags of cloth or residual evidence of another creature, in passing.

He murmurs: )

You spy footsteps? ( Surely, if other humans crossed these grounds, there must be further proof of their presence beyond ruptured cloth. As for the Reaper — )

Killings in the wards. Five in three months. Men, young. No ties. No wounding. Only white strings upon each of their hands.

[traumatology]

No footsteps. No one's been back here in awhile. Those are long gone but I can tell the dirt's been tossed.

( it's been moved, shuffled around, kicked which tells him that someone's been walking through here. which probably means there was another door and he didn't have to put a hand through the wall but —

what's done is done. )

That's symbolic if I ever heard it. White tends to mean purity, maybe? Maybe signaling that they weren't?

[downswing]

White is purity. Mourning. Fortune. The colour of elders. Of rabbits. The moon.

( So many haphazard symbols, so little association. No one single connection seems to reunite all the victims. None old. None especially pure. No elders. Certainly, not fortunate enough to elude a young death. Not moon-born.

...and, to Lan Wangji's grimacing bad luck, not rabbits. His next exhalation wrenches something from his lungs, while he takes care to tread lightly in Bucky's exact footsteps. )

What sleeps at the other end of the caverns?

( Lakes, he has heard. Water. But absent detail, there seems to be something — fraught, fragile, missing. As if the Gut's bind reunite the four worlds of mines, magic, lakes and forges without real connection.

A heart, leading to dissimilar, independently serving limbs. Strange, to think of this castle as a body. )

[traumatology]

I don't know if I wanna find out.

( but he's not turning back either. he remembers, vividly, the tentacle armed thing that he'd seen in the desert, waiting in the pit for some chump to come by and not be paying attention.

he really doesn't want to find something like that here. but, he thinks that a different kind of monster is going to be hiding here.

quietly, his fingers curl into fists. )

But, I ain't turning back either. You wanna keep going?

[downswing]

No. ( But he walks again, undeterred, a visage of resignation. Mould, damp, the cold, a brisk wind bruising his ears. They've caught signals of the living in the mines. Now, to pivot towards the glaciers. )

You come armed? ( Then, with a nod to Bucky's arm. ) A second weapon.

( Independent, cutting. More... flexible than the lethal brutality of an enthusiastic brawl. If they persevere, they cannot go without defences or chance of enforcement. )

You require shielding? ( Between them, Lan Wangji bears a weapon, and the blade Bichen's a solid, plain weight of comfort in her sheath. If... need be, he can intercede, though the man beside Lan Wangji cuts a tall picture, a broad mark. )

[traumatology]

I'm armed.

( he would default to his arm because that's what he does but he's strapped with a blade as well that he knows how to use and will use, if need be.

he doesn't pat his waist or leg or anything because he doesn't want to give it away but he's good. he glances over and nods. )

What kind of shielding? You carrying one in your back pocket or something?

( or was this a magic thing? )

[downswing]

I would serve as shield to you.

( Look at this blank, gaunt face and the narrow breadth of his body, and be in awe of his defensive prospects, surely.

But he is, at least, satisfied with the reassurance, swift to start them on the path to where humidity calls, the telling drip and drop of congealed waters. The first lake is a broad, vast stretch, nothing to its name beyond stillness. The second, more shallow, pale. He looks onto the water, bemused, hand hovered over their the shoreline, seeking — ...energies that neglect him.

That pull away. A shiver walks his back in tender, infant's steps. He stills. )

What odds that the next few lakes will offer more? ( There are, they say, four caverns. )

[traumatology]

( yeah, bucky's not sure how well that would work. the guy looks like he weights seventy pounds soaking wet and he's offering to be a shield?

he can't help but be incredulous but he doesn't out and out express doubt, at least. )

Dunno. What are you doing when you put your hand over the water like that? Looking for fish?

[downswing]

( ...fish. He half-turns, less to scour Bucky with the cutting depth of his gaze than to search the air around him for the telltale, blistering, chilled condensation of ghosts gathering around a living creature. No signs, yet, of a simple, crass haunting. )

Deadened things.

( Pronounced in the bland, callous way in which one might remark on the weather, broken-in shoes or the especially uninspiring absence of soy in an otherwise exceptionally well-balanced dish.

Falling to a knee, he searches the ground for the same gelid coating that might betray ghostly presences, barely stifling a groan of frustration in the cage of his raw, overly exerted lungs. Air here feels too thin, too inefficient. He is compelled to the greed of long, arduous breaths.

Gem's corners tease and snag the skin of his fingers. Wrathion's errand. He captures the jewels, then murmurs behind himself: )

A companion requires we take any precious stones found. ( And then, most helpful above all: ) The coloured trinkets.

( A master jeweller walks among us. )

[traumatology]

Sure, fine.

( there wasn't much else to do while they were walking so might as well do something useful. he crouches down shuffles his fingers through some dirt, finding a small stone that looks like more than a rock.

he slides it into his pocket and then stands up, taking a breath. it smells. it's stale air and he doesn't like it. )

Really hoping we don't find some kind of mass grave.

[downswing]

Mmmmmm.

( Somehow, a negation, hummed absent-mindedly as Lan Wangji either dares or dances the next few callous steps to deliver them towards the entryway into the next glacier cave. He feels — weightless, ephemeral, intoxicated. As if the trickling of power that this entire region radiates sparks and stokes an itch beneath his skin. As if he should drown in it.

And over his shoulder, callously: ) Strategy revision.

( He's calling it on both their behalf. And isn't Bucky both pleased and privileged to witness this? Don't thank him, not when he draws them through a trail of sunken wet and points down to the deepening ravine of marks. Not footsteps, no. Something... larger.

Possessed of tendrils, or a tail. )

May you shield us? ( If needed. When. The gaping mouth of the last glacier cave opens. )

[traumatology]

Wouldn't be the first time I've had to do that.

( he doesn't necessarily mean here but he'd been the guy to protect and pummel before. it's familiar territory.

he sighs, giving his hand a shake as they continue walking. he stops when he notices the marks and makes a noise. )

Something big.

[downswing]

( Not the first time. Their luck be good, not the last.

And so, Lan Wangji darts forward, past the third cave and into — their final destination, rounded like a moan and brimming with careless, candied flakes of frost that crackle at each step.

He thinks, the first heartbeat when he hears it, that he has simply strayed and broken ice. That the ground can no longer concede to bear him and repudiates him, tectonically. Then, he sees the glistened shine of something scarce and gold, floating astray like spun sunlight on lake's water — )

More jewels...?

( No, smaller. Wetter. Shimmered Sca... les?

Irrelevant, when the waters part, and up comes the slithering, great-bellied body of the water serpent, maws unhinged, fangs gleaming. Lan Wangji retreats a step. Another. Then, decisively: )

Occupy it.

( ...while he presumably plunges past the creature, into the water, and rescues the golden trinkets that may very well help nothing and no one. )

[traumatology]

Didn't know you were giving the orders.

( but fine, okay, he can — he can do that. even if he really doesn't want to occupy some kind of sea monster with tentacles.

kind of makes sense why this way was walled off. but bucky reacts, grabbing for the blade strapped against his leg and pulling it out.

the sea creature comes slithers its way towards him and bucky makes a face before he dives out of its way, thrusting the knife into its skin and leaving it there. he gets flicked for his trouble and staggers backwards, rolling but getting back onto his feet quickly.

darting forward, he jumps onto the other side and drives his metal fist into the beast, listening to it roar with irritation and pain. )

[downswing]

( ...the creature. This man. May Heavens the grace, bless and safeguard one of them. Lan Wangji has abandoned the possibility of knowing which. He is not gentle in retreat, step light with the abandon of lethal urgency. Water ripples and blinks as he cuts through it, rapid and savage — and cold, lines of his body shivered.

Metal beats behind him — he cringes — Bucky strikes the beast. In Lan Wangji's netting hands, only weeds remain at first, then dregs of... rot from the creature's previous feasts. He hopes, dazed and gaze ruinous, animal debris. Between staggered glances, he grabs three-eight-sixteen scales, some dangling off each other in a clean strip, some paired, a few scattered. No time to waste on curation, when the... serpent's tail rises up and coils around his waist, snatched better than a maiden's belting.

...he does wheeze. It comes close, scales landing in his pouch in the last few seconds before the creature lifts him — throws him —

And the earnest projectile that is one [1] Lan Wangji is hereby tossed at and weaponised against Bucky.

( Sorry. ) )

[traumatology]

( well, that's not what he expected. he turns and he sees the other man come flying at him. his first instinct is to duck out of the way but that would leave this guy hitting the ground and possibly getting injured.

instead, he let's lan wangji crash into him because he knows he can take it. he tries to cushion the fall as much as possible, holding onto the other man when he strikes bucky's chest and rolling on the ground.

it's gonna sting either which way but it's still better than what might have happened. )

[downswing]

( As a warrior, he is indefatigable. As a user of talismans and sorcery, sound. As an exorcist, unparalleled.

...as a rapid, singularly purposed projectile, he earns fewer accolades.

Gratefully, Bucky braces, breaking their fall. Upon landing — upon tumble and collision — Lan Wangji only grits his teeth and bears through the indignity of the reminder that he is an imperious mind and a shielded soul, ribboned in the trappings of squishy human flesh.

Bodies break. He hears the screeching of his arm falling out of bend at the elbow, when he tried — fails— to stay his advance by dragging his sword through the water, looking to anchor himself, only to skid back when the serpentine creature smites him with the tail again.

It does so love that strategy. Were Lan Wangji less preoccupied with recalling he yet needs the teeth he's gritting against a howl, he might take the time to commend it. As he drifts up, water clawing his face, he murmurs: )

Gratitude. ( Thanks and manners are important. Beyond them: ) Retreat?

[traumatology]

( retreat. he knows it's a smart strategy even if he hates that it's probably what has to be done. this thing is bigger and stronger and while they both have abilities, it seems, they're being tossed around.

he steps closer to lan wangji, helping him to his feet before he pulls him down to duck another swing of the tail.

goddamn, he's already over all these monsters. )

Back where we came or do you want another exit?

[downswing]

( He thinks, if they turn their heads to seek another route, the creature will smite him once more.

Experiments with the possibility by shifting —

And earning a jiggling, mountainous tendril flat on his nape, another on his back, and a third — how many tails does one serpent possess? — binding his legs.

Forgive him stumbling unsteered into Bucky to mutter: )

The known route will suffice.

( Why is the tentacle returning for another swipe — )

[traumatology]

Yeah, that's probably smart.

( he gets a hand on wangji and starts moving, dragging him along bodily. it might not do much to help his injuries but with the way that thing is gunning for him, he thinks he'll be forgive. )

That thing wants you for some reason.