[center][color=#b3ccff][h2]Esben Mathiassen[/h2][/color][/center]
[hr][center][@Click This][/center][hr]

Esben frowned at Éliane's mention of his arm. He moved it around a bit more—he couldn't keep the grimace off his face at doing so, but it still moved as he wanted it to move, and nothing was stuck at an odd angle. [color=#b3ccff]"Seems fine enough to me!"[/color] he said with an incongruous tone of satisfaction in his voice. [color=#b3ccff]"Besides, the battle. We've got more to worry about than my arm, as you just pointed out, and I can't hoard her attention anyways."[/color]

With shaky hands, he pulled his weapons back over toward himself, hanging the buckler back on his belt and leaning the sword against a larger piece of rubble that had survived the fall. Then, with the help of that same rubble, pushed himself up to standing—swayed once, over-corrected and leaned hard the other way, and after steadying himself with a hand on the Dame Commander's shoulder remained upright. Just ahead of them, the rest of the group was beginning to move along, so he put his sword back in its sheathe, turning back to Éliane:

[color=#b3ccff]"Well, coming?"[/color]

[hr]

Luckily, Esben could still walk unaided as the party followed behind Cid, taking in his history lesson and the newest directives that could be passed their way. He did what he could to follow along and store every useful tidbit of information away, though keeping his focus entirely on the man was proving more difficult than usual. He'd just have to write down what he could later and compare with the others to make sure he didn't miss anything—nothing terribly out of the ordinary, there.

Getting the chance to get some proper [i]rest[/i] seemed more and more appealing the more they walked through, however...not that he'd voice the complaint. Best not to give too much ammunition to Éliane's misplaced command that he should lie down and wait for a full check-over. The knowledge that Valheim would likely send teams to seize the crystals that Cid was telling them about, though, stood out better than anything else; no doubt that would be going into both of the reports that would find their way back to Skael, if there was such a concrete threat of the Blight being brought up from within.

He frowned, a muffled sound further back catching his attention. He turned, hand dropping to his sword, just as Cid was saying something about expediting their trip to the surface—just in time to see the cathedral doors fly open despite their weight, Izayoi's old master facing them again. Heedless of the glow appearing at his feet he pulled his sword free, stepping back once to resume a fighting position—

[center][i][color=#b3ccff]Rrrrrgh.[/color][/i][/center]

[right]—and the world spun away from him, feeling like he'd just been inverted and reverted in an instant as the scenery changed back to the open sky, the tile at his feet dissolving back into sand.[/right]

Slowly, he placed his sword back where it belonged, covering his eyes with his other hand. He bit his tongue to stifle the groan that tried to rise from his throat, at the sudden light, the sudden shift, and the twisting in his stomach that accompanied the momentary sensory disorientation that followed an unexpected teleport.

[color=#b3ccff]"I [i]hate[/i] that."[/color]