Ezenvare Queem
After Eze's few words to Rasteva, all that any of the others did was shout at each other. Figuring that his intervention would be, once again, pointless the half-dragon began walking back to his bag. Almost halfway through his little walk a storm picked up. The rain Eze liked, but as it escalated he simply dug his claws into the ground to prevent himself from moving with its wind.
Even with the storm, Eze managed to make progress to the bag. However, as soon as the storm stopped the being that brought them here spoke up. Something about things not turning out how it wanted to. Perhaps the 'god' should have made a place a little better for introductions, or given everyone some time before sending them all to the same place. Eze didn't care at this point. The only thing he cared about from this being was the fact that it mentioned that the exit was now open.
Then it happened. Just an arm's reach from his bag and Eze dropped to the floor. The air was becoming dryer, his mind foggier, his muscles more tired, and his scales dulled of their bronze-like shine. Then his shoulders began feeling pain beyond anything he had ever experienced. From his crawling position, the half-dragon let out a long, loud, high-pitched screech like a dragon mounted on a pike. All the while his wings were being forced from his back, slowly growing out to 6 and a quarter feet each. After 5 or so minutes of the excruciating pain, the death screech ended as Eze shakily stood up. Finishing his march to the bag, Eze quickly opened it up only to devour the once again full bucket of water and fish.
Placing his bag's straps around his neck and rolling his wings on his back, Eze shakily marched towards the gate. Useless. I am weak. How am I supposed to fight evil like this? No, I useless. Just another reminder as to how useless I am. I couldn't even stop a fight, how am I supposed to protect everyone else?