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“Mm,” Caster mused. “How curious that we would not have heard of you until now. The Vanguard’s doing, no? Pity you’ve decided to burn that bridge.”

Zeff was hardly even listening. Asad took the opportunity to rejoin him, and indeed, it was as Zeff had thought. Those tattoos were moving. He noticed Asad fiddling with his left hand, where the golden glow seemed the most prominent.

“Perhaps you would like our assistance, instead,” Caster was saying. “Abolish is renowned for its generosity. Tell us where Darktide and the Seadevil are, and we shall go discuss the matter with them.”

“We are the lord of this place,” said Asad, also in two voices. “If you would speak terms, then do so now.”

“Adorable. But we grow impatient. This is your last chance. Be good lads and tell us. Where are the grown ups?”

There was little doubt in Zeff’s mind that he could not have withstood Caster’s attack himself. If not for whatever Asad’s tattoos were doing right now, this fight might’ve very well been over already. And all they’d managed to accomplish was briefly inconveniencing Caster. They needed to approach this differently, before the Marauder overwhelmed them.

Escaping was obviously the best option here, but how to go about it? Ramira couldn’t even walk on her own, and Axiolis could sense dozens of unfamiliar souls moving all throughout Dunehall.

“Shenado,” Zeff and Axiolis said.

‘Yes?’

“Be ready to run. Guide everyone out, but don’t stray too far.”

‘Okay.’

Zeff would have liked to elaborate further, but the Marauder was through waiting for his answer, it seemed. A destructive path came right for Zeff, and he dodged right, circling behind Asad as the Marauder himself rushed head on another time.

Zeff prepared the next strategy: temperature warfare.