Firion didn't mind his tone, it was honestly a wake-up call. He knew he was in the middle of combat, but he was confused and hurt. It let him focus on the matter at hand. He nodded and let Rich guide him around the fire. He wished he could help, but he wasn't sure he knew how to use whatever it was these energy beams came from. They reminded him a little like magic, but with something that shot it out. Squall would be the only one with that sort of experience, he figured.
If he had his bow, he could at least add to the fire in some fashion. He didn't use arrows, rather he shot arrows of energy, created with his own magic. But for some reason, that was gone and he had no alternative.
Firion followed his lead and ran into the bottleneck between two buildings, grimacing when he heard the crash of the automated mech. But it did its job, blocking the area from the enemy for now. This man knew an awful lot about the city, perhaps that's why he could explain whatever it was that was going on.
"My name is Firion," He answered, his face had a sheen of sweat from fatigue and pain. His hand hovered over his side from the unusual injury, but so far, he was alright. He thought he could make it wherever it was he was being taken too. It didn't seem to be bleeding too much at the moment. Not from what he saw through his light blue armor. "You have two names?" He shook his head, that was the least of his worries. "I-I mean, where exactly am I?"
Those stormtroopers didn't look like manikins, but they did look the same because of their armor. And they used weapons he hadn't seen before. He felt it alright to assume he was still no longer part of the Conflict of the Gods. Which begged the question; whose Conflict was this? And why was he now a part of it?
no subject
If he had his bow, he could at least add to the fire in some fashion. He didn't use arrows, rather he shot arrows of energy, created with his own magic. But for some reason, that was gone and he had no alternative.
Firion followed his lead and ran into the bottleneck between two buildings, grimacing when he heard the crash of the automated mech. But it did its job, blocking the area from the enemy for now. This man knew an awful lot about the city, perhaps that's why he could explain whatever it was that was going on.
"My name is Firion," He answered, his face had a sheen of sweat from fatigue and pain. His hand hovered over his side from the unusual injury, but so far, he was alright. He thought he could make it wherever it was he was being taken too. It didn't seem to be bleeding too much at the moment. Not from what he saw through his light blue armor. "You have two names?" He shook his head, that was the least of his worries. "I-I mean, where exactly am I?"
Those stormtroopers didn't look like manikins, but they did look the same because of their armor. And they used weapons he hadn't seen before. He felt it alright to assume he was still no longer part of the Conflict of the Gods. Which begged the question; whose Conflict was this? And why was he now a part of it?