Ryden Zenta
100 Gold
Fireball- Level 4, 10 MP
Ravage- Level 2, 15 MP
Arc- Level 4, 10 MP
Forceful Gust- Level 2, 35 MP
Umbra Ice- Level 1, 10 MP
Dagger
x1 Chocolate Milk
x1 Canned Sardine
Revive Tome
Magic Pickaxe
Rope
Torch
Head: N/A
Chest: Leather Jerkin
Gauntlets: Leather gauntlets that cover his magic ones
Pants: Leather Leggings
Greaves: N/A
Feet: Leather Boots
"Yes, I'm an Elf, and you are a Saber, what is wrong with this?" The elf man said with visible indignation, to which Ryden responded with a childish snort and a momentary glance away from him. When he told him to stay put because of his broken ribs, he growled in response to being commanded like a mere, helpless dog.
I am not a house pet for you to coddle! He thought with a burst of insolence, and forced himself to get on all fours and crawl towards the entrance to where the action is. He paused momentarily as he noticed Aragon's concerned yet stern glare, and for a brief moment, he felt himself freeze up at the slight twinge of intimidation. However, after the older figure refocused himself onto the rampaging Sacrificial Spirit outside, the young Saber pulled himself, slowly but surely, towards the door. The mere action of being tenacious and refusing to become useless sent jolts of seering pain towards his broken side, but the healing Serene Winds of Aragon helped to alleviate that agony, even just by a little bit. He snaked closer and closer to the grand arches of the church's mohagany doors, and saw, to his relief, that the enemy seemed to be on its last steps. However, that did not remove the fact that it was a large threat, and Ryden knew not to take its desperate moments lightly: they say that a cornered mouse is more dangerous than an idle cat.
He saw his enemy take a heavy swing at the remaining group of individuals that lingered outside to fight him head on. He saw the creature take down two people a notch swiftly and brutally; whether they were alive or not was something to investigate later on after the carnage. Using his stealth to his advantage, he propped himself up on one arm, and charged a fireball on his right hand. If this spell could help take down the monster that threatened his and everyone else's lives, he would be satisfied; he didn't even feel the need to perform the finishing blow either. He sent the spell flying towards the monster
(MP: 190/300), hoping that it would connect. However, with the rapid drain on his mana, Ryden felt even more light-headed than before, and he was starting to be short of breath with all the magic he was flinging around. If the Spirit decided to take a gander at him, he could be as good as dead.