At the edge of the civilized world, deathstalkers were not a common occurrence, but they were dreaded ones. From atop the walls, the defenders of Vale were utterly unable to strike at the humongous scorpions' weak underbellies. With no other option, they could only hope their hail of punishment from above could penetrate the deathstalkers' bony carapace before they could inflict too much damage on the defenses. As Abel had become more acquainted with them, he had grown to respect them as well as fear them, and with his friends and family -comrades all- at his side, no deathstalker could breach the kingdom.

A bunch of teens alone in the forest, however, was a far cry from the seasoned coalition that manned Vale's perimeter. Abel's run ended along with the others, all eight coming to an abrupt stop when faced with the colossal arachnid. From the front of the group, one of the kids from the other team opened fire, disorienting the deathstalker with its explosions but not even chipping its ivory exoskeleton. After a few seconds, Abel realized that the mass destruction of trees, indicating the coming of a large Grimm, had not abated after the scorpion's arrival.

He did not have long to ponder what else was inbound. From the treeline exploded a titan the likes of which Abel had never seen. His focus almost scattered merely to see the beast, so powerful was the terror. For a few instants, Abel was paralyzed by the feeling of being the ant facing down the boot. Almost effortlessly, the monstrosity thundered forward and attacked the deathstalker, which now looked like an average bug in comparison. Abel watched, entranced, as the arachnid sailed overhead and plunged over the cliff's edge, wailing like a ghoul.

The words of the other team's members simply didn't register with him, but Abel did manage to get an idea of what Nevin was saying. “Crappy luck?” He intoned, his voice surprisingly dull and depressingly hopeless. “If we fight this thing, we die. Now's not the time for heroes. I'm running.” With that, he took off, following the others toward the cliffside path.

He paused on the edge, analyzing the descent. It was treacherous and narrow, fit for only one person at a time. All it would take would be a good tremor to knock every person on it off into the void to meet the same fate that the deathstalker had found. After a quick look backward to confirm that yes, the basilisk still existed in all its bloodcurdling majesty, he stepped away from the edge and rushed to pursue the others down the path. He sincerely hoped that the Grimm wouldn't try to climb down after them, but by the same token he was pretty sure that it would.