Eretejva_pandemonium Falwood_pandemonium Blightlands_pandemonium Spine_pandemonium Valthar was deeply suspicious of magic, particularly from an outsider. He was too tired to protest, but he recoiled in horror as he felt Luna's magic flowing through him. It wasn't pure relief to have the wounds transferred away. Having his flesh and nerves rebuilt was a very different kind of pain. He could still feel something like an echo of to searing heat even after his skin was in tact once more. Magic had a price. Everyone knew that. Valthar had never seen madness, but he imagined it looked very much like the woman who had healed him as she babbled about herself. Madness and dark magic was still better than demons. She was standing over him, fighting them off. He was motionless. His muscles reluctantly obeyed. His hand found the handle of his axe on its own. They'd kept saying he'd looked like a fighter when he was young. At least those trying to complement his father through him had. With both arms he swung, catching one of the wounded creatures and putting it down. Valthar wasn't a fighter; he wasn't his father. He turned to follow Luna's arm. She pointed at the monstrous creature just as the shadow of a great boulder flittered past them. The world seemed to be ending. Was this even their world? The tusk charged past them, not to fight a new foe but to grab the talking wolf and the witch before they were swallowed up. Shadows moved around the tusk, tendrils rising up from the ground. "Help them," he growled to Luna. He could barely even run now. Hair matted in sweat and blood, freed from its braid, obscured his view. He dragged it back, plastering it to his own skin with gore. His axe seemed a pitiful weapon here, but he hacked away at the tendrils regardless. The only other option left seemed to be lying down and waiting to die.