It's a familiar tactic, though hardly Daemon's preference whether he's on the receiving end or the one passing the sentence. Too impatient. Under the present circumstances, it's probably best that he and the king don't see eye to eye on this.

"Then we must not fail," he agrees, though without the same easy confidence as before. John has been here longer, so Daemon is sure he knows exactly what's at stake if they fail now that two people are occupying this space. It's not wishful thinking; it's a warning. He has no intention of wasting away waiting for his death in this pit.

"Presumably, we'll have access to its hook, but I would expect that to be unwieldy at best." He'd handled lances and the occasional spear often enough in his time, but those had all been purpose-built for combat. He has much lower expectations for the bucket hook.

"Meaning what we do in the few seconds we'll have after the fall will likely determine whether we live or die."