Ajax clutched his prize firmly, fingers a deadly vice. The house, sensing its master riding away on the storm and its most valuable posession in the hands of an unknown while another forced sought to supress it, redoubled its attacks and seeming self destruction with great vigor. Pieces of the walls, floors and roofs erupted in sprays of shrapnel while supporting beams snapped down like fangs, pieces of fabric from tapestries and carpeting animated into slithering tongues and decorative objects morphed into malignant orbs as the structure shook and warped into itself fueled by things Ajax could not understand. 

He had half a mind to go to work on the accursed place, as though it were a living, conscious enemy he could force to regret ever messing with him, but it was not the time. With a grunt, Ajax stomped down on a rising plank and tugged violently at one of the long strips of fabric wrapping itself around his arm, intent on tearing it clean off as he turned towards Isabeau. "Looks like we're the only ones left, aside from him. Lets see what all this is about, shall we?" he said as he took a step back then jumped right off the house. Something curious happened to his descent, however.

Rather than being caught by the wind, as the mage had intended, Ajax's body broke right through it and his 300 pound mass careened towards the floor like a catapult's projectile. His powerful legs, and the rain-softened soil, helped break his impact as he landed with a resounding crash and an explosion of mud that sprayed all around. He rolled through the mire himself, to further reduce any ill effects the drop might've had, and quickly bolted to his feet. He was covered in muck head to toe, but he still held the crux of this whole matter in his hand. "Easy come, easy go", he muttered while thinking about his recent bath.