(I'm working under the supposition that Fenn makes it through the doorway into the room, and the door slams behind him, sending fenn to tumble across the floor for a second. John's surprise will likely be unsurprising. Let me know if this is good or not please.)

The half-giant's ears perked up as he heard distant footsteps pattering his way, coming from the open doorway ahead, and slid his foot back, readying a defensive stance in case his opponent wanted to jump through the darkened hallway at him. This place was already full of surprises, the half-giant didn't want another. His supply of certainty dwindled as the far-away pattering of feet suddenly, and quite surprisingly, produced a tiny form, leaping through the doorway and skidding on the ground. Just as quickly, a door slid down from the ceiling, sealing the room with a reverberating, deep clang. Snakes, chasing the little one, were caught in the falling door and cleanly severed. Some had the vigor to manage a few hissing noises as they writhed reflexively on the cobbled ground before falling silent.

John raised an eyebrow as the form rose, revealing a snow-white face that glistened in the firelight with what would be thought of as some kind of makeup, but John knew different. His other eyebrow joined the first and the half-giant opened his mouth in protest to some unknown standard. The dusting of imperceptible refraction on his cheeks was ice crystals, and the boy was no boy at all, but an ice fae, and one of John's friends, if the mischievous little thing wasn't swiping a wedge of cheese or a shiny bauble from his place.

But for all his mischief, he was almost an innocent thing, he was almost like a child, though he was well into his third decade. He wanted to ask the boy why he had come to the citadel and who he thought he'd be killing, but all he could manage was a cautious step forward as the tiny ice fae righted himself further, and a single word.

"Wha-"

Well, half of a word. John cut his voice short as he felt a stone's resistance give way, sinking from its raised position to be flush with the surrounding floor. He heard the characteristic twang of a bowstring, pain blossoming from is thigh. He looked down, seeing a crossbow bolt protruding from the side of his right thigh, gone halfway through his quad muscle. He started to feel dizzy.

Poison, he thought. Alright, no pulling the bolt out, the barbs would cut more. Let's seal it in, hopefully the poison was designed for someone smaller than me. In fact, he had no idea if the citadel's magic made the poison more effective or not, but either way he was going to have to deal with it. His head rolled back, or seemed to, and John laid a hand on the side of one of the dark green stone pillars to steady himself as he focused on the armor, sealing the breach around the bolt in his leg, fusing the two. It would stop the external bleeding, but the poison would still do its work. John tilted his head back, trying desperately not to though, and spoke dizzily.

"Fennik, what the hell are you doing here?"