From where he is, he hears scuffles and noises some distance away in a direction from his campfire. He stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "...?", before spotting the beast jumping at Fen. "!"
He makes a run towards the fight, his right hand raised as he mumbles a short prayer, electricity starting to coat his right hand and forming an incandescent spear made of electricity with bolts arcing off the spear.
всегда веренHe approaches from the other side of the beast, a ready bolt of light and thunder in his right hand and raised
, his shield raised up with his left hand.
"What is—?"
всегда веренThis man. This man is chock full of misery. Under his silver plates and blue coat, something crawls around his heart. Sorrow, isolation, neglect and anger. Years of his life gone by, the bottle slowly filling up and spilling over. Now he is the only one left, and he knows it.
"...Foul creature! Come at me then! Over here, you fiend!"
всегда верен

-takes a look at them-
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