Ronken was clambering up the rusty ramshackle fire escape, fighting his feet to go up the stairs without tripping, slipping, tumbling, and other types of clumsiness. His breaths were labored and uneven, his ears were ringing with the roars of explosions and poor decisions, and he still didn't know what was happening. At this point he was guessing the apocalypse.

He could hear the metal of the fire escape clanging behind. As he ascended the next flight of stairs he turned his head to see the demon still on his tail. Jumping from place to place, leaving marks in the off-brown metal where its claws met. 

Ronken hit the top of the stairs and starting running around the platform to start the dance again. He vaguely heard the demon yell and looked to see it about to lunge. He threw out his left arm in an attempt to keep it away. He could tell he hit it when he felt the immense pain in his hand. Whatever the thing was made of, it wasn't fun to punch.

He hoped he managed to finish it that time, but he didn't dare to check at this point. He was stumbling with every step, his reflexes dulled. He needed to concentrate on the stairs. He was almost there.

His footwork wasn't doing him any favors, but he was making it. Until all too late Ronken heard the sounds of claws on metal and the same horrid scream. Before the thought even entered his head to defend, or much less even turn around, the demon had sunk its teeth into his right ankle.

He gave out a yell as he tripped, landing hard on the stairs. He looked to the demon ready to fight for his life, but after a flash the only thing to fight was a bunch of dust. 

It should be hurting, he knew it should be hurting. The thing had teeth like rusted knives, his leg was probably torn to shreds. Or maybe it ripped off his foot. Or his leg. Oh hell, did it bite off his leg? Was he hallucinating it was still there?!

Ronken started patting down his leg to makes sure that, yes, it was there. Giving a bend he confirmed that it also was still attached. A relief. 

The only thing on his mind was running to safety. Right now the closet thing to safe was next to a bona fide traveller. So he got back on his, thankfully two, feet and finished his trek up the last set of stairs. Walking on his ankle stung a bit, but beyond that it was really nothing. He'd had much worse in the ring.

What he wasn't accounting for was the opioid in his system added onto an incredible amount of adrenaline. He'd would realize this after the fact, Right now he was seriously considering if his drunken claims of invincibility were becoming reality.

He tried to imitate Meryn's feats of parkour, but he barely got an inch of air as he weakly jumped from the wall, missing Meryn's hand. This time he just stood still and jumped for her hand, producing far better results. He nearly slipped from her grasp due to the blood covering his hand. After that he almost pulled her down with his weight, he forced himself to only use her as leverage and leaned into the wall for support. Eventually he made it up.

After that he just heard something about getting down. Fine by him. He was very happy to lay on the stone roof. Could practically nap there. In fact he probably would.

The fairy made some sort of magic bubble thing, but at this point Ronken just didn't care. She did magic, grand, but right now he just wanted to rest. There were more flashes and more explosions, but he'd had his fill for now. He just sat on the ground wheezing, looking over his injuries. One cut up hand and a maimed ankle. Yay.