B A D W O L F || Chamber Gang, have at it.

[Kushiel]

The magician’s monsoon hit Kushiel with a punishing force. He swore, cursing meddlesome fools who thought they were gods. Kushiel knew a little of men and gods. He was a man, his father fancied himself a god. But no, this benevolent magic wouldn’t be Carnage.

It just wasn’t his style.

Still, the gray stallion had enough time to think as he tumbled head over heels. Straia’s fire raven shrieked toward the sky. He was glad that it, at least, wouldn’t be doused. When he struggled to his feet, dripping and exhausted. He looked at his handy work and groaned.

It was really hard to burn wet wood. He started to curse anew, and the fire bird landed on his back, offering him flame. Kushiel ignored it. He didn’t need fire. He needed heat.

Queue Erebor. The Chamber Lord appeared and Kushiel laughed gleefully.

“Good man!” Kushiel crowed. Around him Erebor worked his magic. The heat rose, his hair dried, and without being asked, the fire raven spread its wing and lit his mane on fire.

They were back in business, baby.

Kushiel moved back towards the tree, determined to finish what they had started. Of course, that was not meant to be. In an instant, Kushiel felt the world shift around him. Before he could open his mouth to complain, the universe shifted around him and he was falling.