Had he the mental capacity for it he would no doubt be amused by his waking state, almost completely out of the bedroll and with his hair wiped in every direction, a distant part of his mind could also feel a thin layer of spite on his chin indicating he had likely been drooling in his sleep. He brought his hand to his chest while looking to the ceiling with his mouth slightly open, iddly he scratched at the bandages, head empty of any thought,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . , perhaps he should have been more alarmed by the contents of his dreams -what he could remember at least as the memory was already beginning to disappear.
But alas, mornings did just not agree with James Sirius.
After some time simply staring at the ceiling he finally stood, zombie-like movements brought him to his pack and after rummaging a little he came across his bounty. A sealed rask containing some coffee beans, another with sugar, an ice box with frozen milk, and the necessary -if rustic- equipment to prepare it.
Slow steps filled the still-dark temple, some visage of his usual self remembered a kitchen and nothing could motivate him in the morning like the prospect of a hot coffee, it was no surprise he completely missed the presence of Adam despite being in the same room as the druid.
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It wasn't until Adam left and (he took a couple more zips) that his faculties finally returned to him, a sort of snap back to reality that had him calmly taking stock of himself
"Friends" Adam just left and the rest was scattered, probably still asleep,
"Garments" Same as yesterday so gross,
"Weapon" on the bed,
"Villagers" most had left the night before,
"Coffee" empty, refill. After making sure that his cup was once more full he allowed himself to relax, it was done, they had managed to beat the undead crap of the wraith and his pet cultist. Even better, they had managed to do so without losing anyone else in the party.
He allowed himself to ruminate on the party members who were not with them, he was still worried about Lilliana and he hadn't heard from Joji since they split, but despite the worry, he was glad they were still alive, unlike his other two late party members, he would be lying if he said he had got over it, Clive and Arthur deaths had been quick and brutal and he was sure they would haunt his dreams for years to come.
All because that-
"THE NINJA IS HERE!!!"One moment he was frozen, the next he was sprinting back towards his weapon, his cu no doubt shattered where he had thrown it but he couldn't care less about that. Moving as fast as he could he ignored the screaming, as much as he wanted to help he knew that if he appeared without a means to defend himself from a direct attack then that asshole would no doubt abuse it.
That didn't mean he had nothing he could do, he chanted as he ran, last time his crystal had ascended it had brought with it a new spell, he had just given it a glance but its use was beautifully simple.
"Source infusion"Grabbing his anchor he sprinted towards the sounds of battle, arriving just in time to see Zell get stabbed multiple times, the sight made him angry beyond words but behind all that was pure horror.
"Not again!"The moment the ninja dropped a smoke bomb he made his move, with a yell his anchor sailed through the air at speeds almost comparable to that of the late Arthur Baker, his aim not towards Zigmund.
His objective was Zell.
The rapidly expanding smoke didn't let him see if his aim was true but lacking options he decided to trust his luck and pull with both hands, out of the smoke came the bleeding body of Zell, he wasn't Mac so it made sense that his throw wasn't perfect, rather than fetching the larger man by the armpit the anchor had instead latched on his belt.
The result was the same.
As soon as the swordsman was out close enough he grabbed him and cast
Lesser Restore, the wounds were bad but not the worst he had treated.
He just hoped the others were able to restrain the fucker long enough for Zell to finish healing.