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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=#dc143c][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Dungeon, -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria[/right][/sub][/color]
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Hell rained from on high. Magic flung from all corners of the room, detonating against the monstrosity's chest like a series of atom bombs. [i]Boom, boom, boom.[/i] A fireball the size of semi-truck. A giant, crescent-shaped slash that consumed all light. Arrows that hit like cruise missiles. An earthen cleaver, aimed to split the demon in half. A curse so foul it crumbled even rock. And a thousand frozen teeth delivered from the sky like judgement from God.

Snow fell all around Graves. It gathered in fine piles 'round him, stained red. Every breath was a labor. Every attempt to push himself back to his feet ended in him collapsing back to his knees. It was all he could do to keep the darkness from closing around his vision. Pain wracked every inch of his body, digging its cruel fingers into every nerve it could find. Needling him. Prodding. Searching for that place to destroy him completely-- that spot it could carve into to keep him down.

That was a fools' errand.

[color=dc143c]"Hell of a haymaker you got there."[/color] He sucked in a breath, leaning his weight against Alja's. She was nearly as beaten up his him, though little of it showed; all the damage she'd done was on the inside. But it was worth it. God damn had it been worth it. Arnaakus s was stumbling, now. Its armor cracked, its will to fight diminished. Everyone still standing was wailing on it with all they had left.

He wrapped a hand 'round her bicep best he could, pulling up on it. [color=dc143c]"How 'bout we kill this thing n' go get that drink you talked about, huh?"[/color] He sniffled. The bloody gauntlet wrapped around his hand shifted, shrank, tightened. Part of it folded away into his pores and flowed into his bloodstream, granting new life to a battered body. Bits of ice were pushed out of his back by regrown skin and muscle. She had a hell of a haymaker, for sure. [color=dc143c]"Up we go. Together."[/color]

More of the gauntlet broke off, flowing up around his shoulders and down his other hand-- restoring Alja as best it could. Fatigue wasn't something he could fix; not as well as Sif could. But he hoped what he knew of restoration magic could get one'a their best and brightest back on her big, ugly feet so they could finish this monster the fuck off.

Graves stuck his sword into the stone and lifted himself back to his feet. Everyone else was hitting the demon with everything they had. They were working themselves to the bone to tear off layer after layer of its arcane armor, hoping to expose whatever core lay at its center. Whatever bit kept that creature going. There had to have been something fleshy in there; the thing had eyes like anything else.

It was the only vulnerable bit that he could see, so that was where he'd be going. He hefted that great, wicked blade onto his shoulder and began his march forward. He picked up speed as he went, getting faster and faster as he grew closer. The other front liners would ensure the center held-- they had to, or every single one of them was going to die. Most of them had lives to go back to. Most of them couldn't risk losing it all in a hellish place like this.

Rock climbing wasn't something Andrew did a lot of back on the other side. Once or twice he'd gone with his older brothers, only to get humiliated each time; he wasn't strong enough to pull his weight up like they could. Wasn't dexterous enough to leap like a fucking frog up a vertical cliff. 

Graves bounded up Benkei's pillar with one hand behind his back. 

Fatigue and pain tore at his fingers but he kept holding on, forcing himself to climb. He planted his foot in the pillar just as he reached its apex and leapt up toward Arnaakus. His fingers brushed stone yet they found no purchase. Panic filled his chest. He dropped his sword, flinging his other hand 'round to grasp the beast's leg. There he dangled precariously, blood pounding in his ears. This was maybe the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He swung up, grabbing onto the torso, and continued to climb.

Something was screaming at him from down below. What they were saying was lost on him; lost in that pounding headache and the screeching in his inner ear. Something deep in his center kept him pressing ahead, despite it all.

Climbing wasn't the hard part. There were plenty of handholds on its body- plenty of sharp, craggy bits to stick himself to. The hard part was holding on for dear life as the titan flung itself around in the midst of battle. It was like they'd taken the rock climbing wall, put it on wheels, and shoved it down a hill. That wasn't even to mention the thing clawing at him all the while. Tearing, snapping, trying to get a grasp on him. Graves shrunk as best he could, pressing ahead. 

Graves scrambled up its back. He climbed, dodging past another claw. Just the wind of it swinging by his head was damn near enough to send him tumbling off. He gripped his handholds all the tighter, pushing on until he reached its head. A hand went to his belt. Shaking, terrified. He could see his sword laying on the ground far too many feet below. [i]Heights[/i]. Fuck.

The only weapon he could find was a glass bottle full of odd colored liquid. One of the potion he'd snagged from Rael. It'd have to do. He broke the thing in his hand and reached up over Arnaakus's head, shoving a bunch of glass into its eye with all the strength he could muster. The demon let out a roar to shake the world and finally got a hold of him. It pulled Graves off its back and began to squeeze his tiny, fleshy body.  
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