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It was Lucia's fault. No one was going to say it was Lucia's fault, but it was.
She dared him. Mother would say he was too old to fall for dares, even though she knew just how to say them so he'd agree. There were those great big walls around the city, and really, who puts walls there if you're not supposed to climb them? And Lucia said she'd got that soft fall spell working. Which she had; when he fell off the wall, it didn't hurt.
It just dropped him right on top of a demon.
Lucia's a good sight less squeamish than Eamon. It's unclear how, or why. But she takes a quarterstaff from the partially eaten corpse of an elf, and vigorously prods any body that seems ambiguous.
"Gods," Eamon says miserably, after a few corpses. "Lu, is this really the best way?"
"Ma'am???"
That wasn't really one of the more plausible bodies. Her lower half is under a massive amount of stone.
Her eyes flicker open and behold... her rescuers(?)...
"How long since the demon?" she rasps.
"Not more than a few hours," Eamon says, also looking fairly bewildered that this woman is alive.
"How would you know, you were unconscious. But, um. Yes. I can heal you, I think? ...partly?"
"That's not actually going to help that much, with..."
Gesture towards rocks.
Saying I'm thirteen, actually will not help the situation in any way.
Eamon experimentally exerts force on one of the rocks. A smaller one. Still not small.
It... moves. Not just that; it rolls along as if it were a flimsy wooden prop, then impacts the wall with a weighty thud.
"For reasons I'd rather not get into at the moment," Eamon says, "I can help with that part."
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