All in all, he'd say that potentially dying would have been an easier out that being trapped like this. Herc eyes the mage warily. Warden against Warden wasn't how it was meant to be, and on another day, in another battle, the guy patching him up might've been a friend.

As it is, Herc considers a long moment before responding.

"Everywhere," he replies, and it's mostly true. Eating sand wasn't fun, being slammed into it by a bloody great demon wasn't high on his list, either. Still, some pain and tension is potentially more worrying. "Neck's not great." A little shift, testing, and he winces. "Right collarbone and arm aren't much better." He's not looked, but breathing and shrugging made his shoulder yell a mighty protest.

And speaking of arms, he's guessing his sword and shield are gone, left back in the Approach or requisitioned to these bastards. His head is foggy, but he manages a rough, "Where are we?"