[center][h3][color=ff9900]Týfurkh[/color][/h3][/center]

What had just happened had been a very, very long way down the list of T+yfurkh's expectancies. The man he had encountered far back on his way, the mysterious individual that had ultimately guided him to the Pactmakers and the whole affair with the Sightless, he... was not exactly an ordinary mage, right ? Týfurkh had not yet heard of a spell that would allow somebody to witness an arbitrary event like a crossbow bolt hitting something from an arbitrary position, let alone said somebody to teleport in, change the flow of time and deliver some kind of weird message before disappearing again. However it was either that or this mage had perhaps planted a message in his head to be delivered when the time had come.

Both alternatives were not exactly to Týfurkh's liking! And if someone was so capable, why did he need some Pactmakers to stop something from going on in the first place ? Way too many question waiting to b...

Bang!

That was all Týfurkh heard on his attempted escape from the clearly angered seed as he was suddenly thrown around. Even as he landed quite hard, he was not yet aware that his heavy armor, albeit dented, had actually saved his life where more light equipment might have failed utterly. Týfurkh tried to inhale fresh air as the impact had blown out the old one for sure, but as he did he could sense both the expansion of his chest being constrained by the reshaped metal and the location where he had been hit hurting quite a lot. His breathing clearly was impaired and that was not a good thing for the rest of the fight, but he couldn't afford even just taking the time to drop his chestpiece.

The giant's steel boots skid along the stone floor as he tried to accelerate out of harms way, but the cloud of dust that inadvertently came along with parts of the ceiling still caught up to and surrounded him. Caughing, Týfurkh frantically tried to at least reestablish his line of sight with Chres. Whether the seed's vision and ability to find targets would be impaired by the dust as well ? Something inside him doubted it, given the so far quite wicked properties it had so blatantly presented them with.

Týfurkh, still aware of being a prime target for the seed's anger, sought shelter behind what looked like a pile of abandoned barrels, shelves and other debris. It was not exactly a sturdy barrier, but maybe it would buy him just enough time to reload the crossbow or think of a new way of blowing parts of the seed up.