Do Mugu rattled into the loose roof tiles and writhed like a trodden worm. With his grip compromised, he slid towards the tower's eave. The roof wasn't the only thing he lost his grip on; stress, at once, wrestled the ghost of Hessiod the Deceiver from the shaman's control. That vile spirit could linger for a moment, but before long, the Underworld would hungrily reclaim its putrid denizen.

For the interim, Hessiod was Philomel's to deal with.

Meanwhile, Gum had become fully human—and typically frail, too. Moreover, he remained drained and disorientated. But, at the very least, his shapeshifting spell had handily bundled his garb and trinkets into the transformation. The latter, he was going to need. Only novice shapeshifters relinquish their clothes in an inconvenient pile when they transform!

It would be a few minutes before the exhausted witch doctor could regain his modest strength and robust focus.

So, his tumbling ride towards the drop was all the more perilous.

Then it happened: he fell from the roof.

As he went over the edge, his stinging eyes were captured by the sprawling disasterscape below.

He had to resist the lure of that heaven-sent chaos. It wasn't meant for him.

Do Mugu averted his gaze; and in looking away, he found his spirit soothed by the grey expanse overhead.

It was his recurring choice: below or above.

Urgently, the falling shaman snatched at the roof's dripping lip and tipped his body inwards. He crashed into the narrow set of rotting rafters circling the cathedral's bell. It was "safety". Painful safety. From there, he could hear the echo of Philomel's ghastly encounter haunting the crumbling sanctuary. Something made the dilapidated structure shake; was it the roaring gale outside or the unholy bastard within? Something made the mortar crumble. Something made the odd stone brick fall.

It was that same something calling the shaman to combat. So Gum crawled towards the stairs leading down to the stairwell, he was heading towards his opponent. Do Mugu knew that if he could reach Van der Aart before Hessiod disappeared, then he had something to leverage.