Very odd, he still felt grey and dark, but he was clearly there, different from the changelings from before too. The hapless clouts following after him were as bright and as vibrant as anyone else though, so no changes there. It didn’t matter. He saw a wooden overhang approaching, held up by thin wooden beams, ramshackle and lashed together. It was holding up an impressive weight of pottery. Handy drew back his hammer and swung at the first beam as he passed. It buckled but still held. He swung at the middle one, and his hammer bounced off of it. He skid to a halt by the end, gripped the hammer in both hands, and swung at the third one. The silvered steel crashed through the wood, which splintered and buckled. It collapsed, the other beams similarly damaged falling as well, bringing the entire weight down upon the head of the Black Guard, who was mere inches from Handy before he disappeared under a hail of broken pottery, soil, plants, seeds, water, and wood.