Quinlan rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the empty sky above the square.
"So what are you planning to throw at me?"
The answer arrived without warning.
The sky split with a dull thud.
Something fell, and not gently. It came down like a thrown corpse, tearing through the air before slamming into the stone a short distance away. The impact gouged a shallow trench and sent fragments skittering across the square.
Quinlan raised an eyebrow.
The figure rolled once and came to a knee, one hand braced against the ground. Blood ran freely down a broad chest and soaked into the cracked stone beneath him.
"… Dragnar?" Quinlan said.
The Primordial Dread looked up.
One eye was swollen shut. The other burned with a glare that refused to dim. His body was a map of damage. Deep cuts. Blunt trauma. Something that looked like claw marks raked across his skin in all directions.
He spat a thick mouthful of blood and laughed once, rough and humorless.
