[center][h2]Krunk Fortress, Courtyard[/h2]
[sub]Ballmen, dragons, and hammers, oh my[/sub][/center]

Zerraf's lazy, glazed eyes drifted upward to the sky. They rested on the man of three heads. Zerraf wasn't aware that triclops existed until then. Whatever the case, the wind mage was glad he didn't have to dodge all of the fire going around. It seemed to be the popular element these days. Maybe Zerraf should pick up some fire tricks. Eh, it wasn't his style. The wind mage returned from his day dreams, blinking slowly, and once. He raised his left hand, elbow bent and fingers dropped. He wagged his fingers in a wave-like fashion.

[color=ed1c24]"Hey."[/color]

With that, the hand was brought down like a lever of a slot machine. Ribbons of wind formed on the ground, weaving between the grass of the courtyard. They formed abstract patterns. As if they were alive, they danced amongst the tiny organisms the soil held. If a Krunklet was to step on one of the many ribbons, it would feel gravitation toward Zerraf's wind wall, picking up speed until they were shot as a cannon toward Spike. Zerraf's arched neck proceeded to creak in the direction of the wind wall, feeling as if he had forgotten something.

[color=ed1c24]"Oh, Right."[/color]

Zerraf bent at the knees and leaned backward, just dodging the half-speed spikes that had been sent in his direction. He rose from this position afterward, as a zombie from the grave. Slowly, he returned to his feet and cracked his neck in his classic hunched position. The fingers of his left hand danced on the rapier, as he would unsheathe and strike if any rolling ball men were to escape Jenso's hammer and Zerraf's currents.