It was humiliating, and frightning, and a million other things, to be one of the ones hiding away and shivering like mad, able to watch but not act. Nadir didn't remember the raids, he remembered, and he'd forgotten himself that necessary deathblow by cleric or paladin. And as the group of them got tossed around like ragdolls, Ezra could only feel guilt at being so totally unable to help. Rhys must have gone off the deep end with fury now, there was no way he could have kept it together for so long. He tried to ignore what looked like an icicle stuck in his back. Sometimes bad eyesight was an excuse he could fall back on.
Rogue out, hunter maybe bolted, he didn't see her anywhere. Nadir had taken a good slap aside by one of the wings and held an arm awkwardly, having gotten grazed by the vicious teeth at an inopportune moment (though what moment was ever good to get nearly bit by an undead dragon?) The spellsword wasn't looking any better than the rest of them, anyway.
The kitchen seemed eerily quiet, even with the noise outside. Everything had already been knocked over, everyone out the supply doors when he'd first run in. No one else had come in, making for the exits. Was everyone else okay? He didn't dare move to check.
Nadir's sword fizzled. Panting, ill- hopefully not due to the undead effect but that was wishful thinking, Nadir knew poisoning when he had it- he cursed, trying to pull up more energy, anything, but knew it was useless. He glanced aside, fell back, saw the door and staggered in to the kitchen. Ezra caught his shoulder and they knelt together, Ezra amazed at how hot Nadir's skin must be beneath the shirt, or how cold he must be to feel it that way.
"No shit," slurred Nadir unhelpfully. Ezra had put someone else's jacket on. He took it off and ripped the sleeve off, trying to tie it around Nadir's arm. "Now what?"
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Rogue out, hunter maybe bolted, he didn't see her anywhere. Nadir had taken a good slap aside by one of the wings and held an arm awkwardly, having gotten grazed by the vicious teeth at an inopportune moment (though what moment was ever good to get nearly bit by an undead dragon?) The spellsword wasn't looking any better than the rest of them, anyway.
The kitchen seemed eerily quiet, even with the noise outside. Everything had already been knocked over, everyone out the supply doors when he'd first run in. No one else had come in, making for the exits. Was everyone else okay? He didn't dare move to check.
Nadir's sword fizzled. Panting, ill- hopefully not due to the undead effect but that was wishful thinking, Nadir knew poisoning when he had it- he cursed, trying to pull up more energy, anything, but knew it was useless. He glanced aside, fell back, saw the door and staggered in to the kitchen. Ezra caught his shoulder and they knelt together, Ezra amazed at how hot Nadir's skin must be beneath the shirt, or how cold he must be to feel it that way.
"This isn't working," Ezra said, teeth chattering.
"No shit," slurred Nadir unhelpfully. Ezra had put someone else's jacket on. He took it off and ripped the sleeve off, trying to tie it around Nadir's arm. "Now what?"