Darthalien was in the middle of disassembling one of the mud-monsters when the sky came apart. He'd managed to reproduce the exploding-beads weave that he'd seen Anaris Asha'man use, though with his lesser strength he couldn't simply destroy whole monsters. Instead, he'd been wrapping it around joints and using it to blow off limbs. It took a little longer, but disabled monsters were easy targets for everyone else.
Then a lake fell on his head, flattening his hat around his face and drenching everything else. He shoved the brim back up, but the mud-monster was now just a pile of mud, no longer moving. In fact, there was only one monster remaining... No, that's the one I baked into a statue.
It occurred to him that while it was still raining heavily, none of it was falling on him. He glanced up, and realized that someone had set an invisible ceiling over their heads -- most likely Lissa, who was checking over her pack with a grim expression. After a moment her expression changed to satisfaction, and she looked up. Darthalien immediately looked away. No, they were very definitely not going to talk about anything that had happened during the battle.
Darthalien staggered as he let go of the One Power. He was more than ready to collapse on the spot, but the idea of lying down on wet sand was unappealing enough to keep him on his feet. Instead, he wandered back down the way he'd come, stopping to pick up the tip of the spear he'd brought along. Though the wood had splintered, the metal had survived... but the tip was badly bent, and he suspected the whole thing would have to be reforged. Still, good steel was expensive. He strapped the spearhead to the side of his pack and went to rejoin the others.
The World outside the Grey Tower is a vast place.
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