Screaming in pain as their back hit the ground, the sudden flash of knight might as well have been a knife right to Ihosha’s forehead. It made the discomfort caused by the barrage of information fed by the third eye seem paltry in comparison, and they could feel the eye writhe beneath the hand slapped over it. Gasping and coughing at the foul taste in their mouth, Ihosha rolled over slowly with a groan as the pain faded to more manageable levels. The intense ringing refused to abate from their ears though, and they were slow to prop themselves up and take a look around to try and reassess the situation. The ground seemed to rumble and shake as the tunnel finally collapsed atop the blighted ones, and Ihosha stared at it for a moment. A pity about the most likely crushed lanterns, but it was probably a trade in their favor. 

The two remaining blighted ones had to be dealt with though, and the question now was who did they try and assist? The bowman forced into close quarters, but seemingly ready to hold his own, or the two tired and poorly positioned about to take another blast from the hand-cannon head on. … Well when it was thought of in that way, the choice wasn’t that difficult was it? Or did it have to be a choice? Looking down at the staff cradled in their hands, Ihosha wished it was a bit more aerodynamic and wieldy, but better than one of the blackened monstrosities everyone else seemed to be stuck with.  

Though their mind felt a bit frayed from the third eye’s observations, Ihosha grit their teeth and pushed their body forward. Physically, it should be fine right? No time but the present to find out. Spinning around, they tossed the staff sideways like a boomerang at the back of the blighted one engaging Solomon, hoping to knock them off balance. Their vision wasn’t the clearest, still somewhat dazzled by the bright cannon fire, but the symbol marked on its torso was clear as ever and even seemed to draw their attention. Focusing on that to help them aim, Ihosha finished their turn and surged up onto their feet.

Joining the sailor who’d abandoned his anchor in the rush for the cannon wielder, Ihosha scrunched their third eye shut and held out a hand. The dull smack of the thrown staff hitting something, although they didn’t look back to see what, was just caught as they listened out for it. Focusing and tugging on the faint connection that seemed to exist, a small grin split their face as the comforting weight materialized within their hand and they grabbed it firmly. Though the room was no longer quite as clear with their darkvision cut off, the strange symbol seemed to linger in their sight like a fading wisp. Grunting as they grasped the staff by the bottom end with both hands, Ihosha tried to halt themselves and transfer all that momentum into the swing at the blighted man’s soul-mark.