[ his head is still pounding from the several blows of talons and wings that'd battered him, before he and the Warrior of Light admitted futile defeat and fled for the Excelsior, but Estinien would know that voice anywhere, in any state. ]

Lord Commander? [ he croaks, after a couple coughs, willing his worn body to pick itself up and move. There's nothing in the way of grievous wounds on him, they'd escaped early enough it didn't get so far, but mostly it's strain from battle. The armor held up well, as it always does, but he'll be bruised up tomorrow, he imagines. A hand waves, dismissing the question. He's fine enough, calm your shit, ser. ]

I don't recall Ishgard becoming home to such tropical settings. [ Said as a hand trying to push himself up shifts too much on the malleable sand for the Azure Dragoon's liking. Like snow, but more annoying. But as to the important part - ] Has the Horde descended on the city?