Leon's elite mage zombie materializes mid-fall, skeletal hands weaving desperate patterns in the air. Wind magic catches Leon's plummeting form three stories above the top floor, slowing his descent just enough to prevent instant death.
He crashes through clay tiles and wooden beams, the impact driving breath from his lungs in explosive gasps. Pain radiates from his already broken ribs as fragments of the Upper District's finest architecture rain down around him.
The building beneath him belongs to the Middle Quarter Merchant, a sprawling manor with manicured gardens and servants who polish silver by candlelight. Leon's fall through their roof sends housemaids screaming through marble corridors.
"Master Hendricks!" A butler shouts from below. "Something's fallen through the atrium ceiling!"
