Satilla Valen

Satilla felt overall quite uncomfortable with the whole situation. She was unable to help in any way with the fight against this misty creature. She was not a fighter to begin, she was a witch. A magic user and if she had followed the damaging path of her vocation, she may have had been able to effectively aid against their current enemy, but she was not such a witch. She followed a more lighter path, focused on healing and helping people instead of damaging them. She also lacked any sort of magical item that could aid in this, mostly because being a simple traveling healer, she never got the opportunity to amass treasures and raid ancient dungeons and the like, since she was always busy helping ordinary peasants.

That aside the current situation was somehow turning out acceptable. They were keeping the mist thing pinned down(mostly Keystone really) and the others were slowly damaging it. No one had suffered currently too great injuries when you don't count Sana who seemed out cold after casting that magic. Which while great in wish, left them with an unconscious person on the battlefield. Still Satilla stood near Keystone, ready to jump forward and heal him at the moment's notice.

The man had made it quite loud and clear for someone of the people present to get his knife. The weapon seemed to be effective, but before the witch could go after it, the druid was already on the job. Satilla really wanted to avoide another tumble about the place, thus she focused once more on the possible need to heal the man holding their attacker.

The next opportunity she gets, her first job would be to get a silver plated dagger or at least anything that affects things of incorporeal nature! For physical problems she had a handy wooden pole to hit them over hte head and a steel dagger to stab with. She now needed something for apparations and the like of this thing.

Ntaj’s efforts to repel the beast was successful, as far as the orc was concerned. He was still uncertain of the strange creature’s existence but one thing was for certain, the flail was hurting the creature, and that’s all that Ntaj really needed to know. Soon it began to retreat, carrying a grappled (Or grappling) Keystone with it. Kyra soon joined the fray with her knives and sword. Ntaj had no magical means of range attacking, and unfortunately his rope was only four feet in length. He quickly cursed himself for not having attached to a longer length, as he could easily achieve a reach of roughly fifteen feet if he had just used regular rope. But no sense in complaining about it now.

Like Kyra, Ntaj made a running jump (Athletics) to try and reach into the air as high as he possibly can, and while in the air take a swing at the red ghost. He made doubly sure to avoid striking Keystone or getting in Kyra’s way, waiting right after her attack before going on his own offensive. Ntaj specifically was trying to swing his flail towards one of the ghost’s limbs in the hopes of somehow entangling it, considering that Keystone was having some success in wrestling with it. Failing that at least Ntaj could try to hit it.

All the while he was completely unaware of the growing (Probably undead) orc horde just beyond the wall. While Ntaj was vaguely aware that the explosions had stopped and the orcs weren’t in any hurry to assist them, he was completely unaware of the greater scope of the danger. Or what exactly was happening at all this night. In the back of his mind, Ntaj wondered if his dreams from before could give him some insight about what he should be doing.

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Season: Late Fall/Early Winter
Time Of Day: Night, middle of
Weather: Cool and damp, with a clear, open sky
General Ambiance: Sticky
Location: Front lines, defending the Orc Cave

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Specific Resolutions:

Calanon: The arrow passes right through, barely ruffling a breeze within the creature. Technically, it struck precisely where it was intended to strike. The results, however, were far less than ideal.

Keystone: The one-handed grip continues. It's not going anywhere, but then again, neither is he. He manages to get another had on the thing, somehow getting a solid handful of wispy bad guy.

Cyneburg: Congratulations! Cyneburg has successfully walked the distance required and recovered the knife resting on the cold ground.

Lerraina: Excellent shot for the nomme de guerre'd rogue. The arrow inserts nicely into the side of the head of the nearest undead Orc. It slowly slumps forward and falls face-first onto the forest floor. The remaining Walking D'Orcs take absolutely no notice whatsoever, continuing on their quiet, shuffling path deeper into the woods.

Kyra: Two of the three daggers make connection, the third clanging into the ice wall. Both tear ragged gashes along the side of the creature, who lets out a truly inhuman sound approximating a shout, if a shout were somehow related to blacksmith's tools smashing to shards of white-hot iron upon each other and falling, sizzling, into a ceramic bowl of electrified blood.

Ntaj: Naked Half-Orc striding and leaping, his shortcomings flapping about in the breeze as he brings the "Pope On A Rope" down onto the held and injured Crimson Mist. More to follow.

Sana: Still unconscious, but were she awake, would likely be very unhappy with her current state of well-being. She seriously needs a band-aid and a cup of hot cocoa.

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The beast, gorged on now atomized blood, could do little but try to escape from the grasp of the burly Human fighter. It was quite a new experience, being able to be held physically by flesh and bone; irksome and (ironically) unnatural, to its experience. Only slightly less so were the lines of damage put upon it by silver, magic, and the occasional mundane item under the proper circumstances. But none of that really mattered as the Jar of Ow descended upon it. What cohesion remained to the creature was violently dispelled in a manner most grotesque.

If we will recall, the last position of Keystone was underneath the Mist, and the last position of Satilla was next to him, waiting for her moment to step up and heal the poor bastard in the extremely likely event that he gets horribly injured. Again. Well friends, location is everything - and here's why:

The Crimson Mist seems to separate into its namesake components, Crimson and Mist. The Mist portion, resembling so much white steam, puffs upward and evaporates almost instantly. The Crimson bit of it, comprised mostly of Keystone's blood, re-liquefies and splats heavily upon both Satilla and Keystone like a poorly timed chamberpot. Big one.

Meanwhile, outside of the Wall O' Ice, the fallen Orcs continue to trudge deeper into the woods. The last of them are beyond the range of visible light, although someone with infravision or darkvision might still notice a few shapes walking off in the outer range of their perception. (Of course, that last part hinges on the character's knowledge of the withdrawing undead Orcs in the first place.) The ground outside is littered with sharp shards of bone and splattered with blood, along with the regular flotsam and jetsam that accompanies any skirmish of this type. The odd finger, sharp object, last will and testament scratched into the ground with the odd finger or sharp object, etc. Suffice it to say, the place needs a good dusting, or for nature to reclaim it.

There is a lasting quiet in the surrounding woodland, broken only by the remaining embers of the campfires and the sound of a chilling wind.

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Kyra watched as two of her three daggers went and gouging into it, the scream that erupted from the mist caused Kyra to halt in hr tracks and cringe. That was not a sound she wanted to hear again. As she sees Njat finish the thing off and the subsequent downpour of blood she shakes her head. "I ain't cleaning up that mess," she muttered under her breath as she glanced around. She couldn't see much but from the looks of things whatever else was trying to attack was gone and it was quiet. Too quiet for her liking considering everything that just happened but Kyra wasn't about to complain.

Sheathing ehr sword she glanced around, seeing Sana unconscious on the ground with Epona and Ash guarding her. Rushing over to her friends side she knelt down as she pulled her cloak from her, pulling Sana into her arms and slowly moving the woman closer to the fire. "Someone either heal this bitch or hand me my bag," she yelled as she rubbed the cloak up and down Sana's arms trying to get her to wake up. She had seen hypothermia hit Sana before but it wasn't this bad, granted she had never seen her cast the other spell before and didn't know what problems it gave her. The two combined, she figured, must have rendered Sana in such a horrible condition.

The wall was melting, thankfully. Well maybe not. It provided a barrier between them and whatever else was out there. Even with it being quiet there could still be danger out there. "Come on woman, wake up," she grumbled as she continued to try to warm Sana's body up next to the fire. She knew she needed to retrieve as many arrows as she could and her daggers as well but that could wait. Kyra felt on the other hand, nearly refreshed after the battle, she chalked that up to Sana's last spell before she passed out. Even though the creature that attacked them wasn't a fog, something she had heard Sana warn about time and time again, she was beginning to believe that anything floating like that was just bad news. Hopefully they wouldn't come across another one of those things. To her, they got lucky taking it down.

Well it was over, for the most part anyways, the main crisis seemed to be averted. But they had not gleaned any shred of useful information from vanquishing their enemy. And the necromancer, their true foe, was yet to be seen nor researched. With no cleric who could commune with the dead, or undead in this case, the pool of cherry Kool-Aid was not very helpful. Although it seemed Keystone had some form of magical weaponry, and some others on the team did as well, seeing how everyone fought in an actual melee was educational for Thomas to note in the future. Though no techniques were gleaned from watching, knowing who was the aggressive lot ready to close the distance and keep the distance was something good to know. Thomas after all had only long-ranged spells that worked best to deal large areas, indiscriminately harming all those caught inside. With some practice, and manipulation of the exact control, maybe Thomas would be able to exclude certain targets from a spell's range, but it seemed unlike to happen any time soon with all the excitement. Spellcraft did after all take time to perfect, months at a time, and travelling with a party would make that difficult.

Kyra, their archer, ranger, scout, and other scary woman, shouted for healing for Sana. Sana who had decided to become a martyr or something in this foray, using utility spells along with the more martial combats to change the tide of battle. Though the price of her magic is quite steep by the frost and chill. Thomas made his way over from the sidelines, picking up his bag for his potions along the way as care for the unconscious bard was a priority. He had two potions that might be of use, one for actual injury, one for exhaustion, although he was uncertain which condition Sana would be in as the cost of magic. The cold can be dealt with by application of heat slowly to elevate the body temperature, something of which all their furry companions could help with, with their lush furs and all to trap heat.

With a nod, Thomas knelt down beside Sana, the fire and Kyra to his side before Thomas produced two vials from his satchel. The first contained a ruby red, turbid not unlike the blood pool over yonder. The second contained a peridot green, thick and opaque. The Red Elixir of Healing, and the Green Potion of Stallion's Vigor one held in each hand. Both alchemically created, through the process of combustion, decoction, distillation, condensation and the combination of ingredients, and reproducible to some degree with the basic ingredients Thomas has with him. However the case was, as with all medicines, which to give to treat the proper ailment. As a good pharmacist could tell you, everything in the world is a toxin, it is just a matter of proper dosage. Thus if Sana was injured from tissue damage, the Red Elixir would be the preferred choice to mend wounds and stop internal bleeding to mitigate damage. Else if Sana was merely suffering from exhaustion from strain, drinking the Green Potion would be able to give her drive a boost, acting as a sympathomimetic that would surely awaken her system with a kick.

"Uh Kyra, Uh this green potion is uh, well it's a stamina booster and restorer, if Sana's worn out from exertion, it should make her come to, might even help warm her body up by giving her extra energy to burn off. The Red Potion's uh standard healing, but uh I think Satilla can take care of injuries. Both are usually safe for magic users, uh I've been a personal test subject. Might want to grab her arms though, she might wake up a be feisty."

The two potions quickly explained before Thomas unstopped the Green Potion and brought the glass up to Sana's lips, his fingers parting them slightly as he administered the potion to the down and out Bard. A bit of fuddling with her neck to make the thick fluid go down, even as much as massage her throat to encourage the potion to flow. A Glance over his shoulder over at Satilla to help access, and plus Thomas might learn something about being a healer.

"Satilla! Can you check out Sana? I just gave her an energy potion, not sure if it'll work..." As Thomas emptied the entire vial. Now the question was did it work?

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Location: Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three/Morning of Day Four

Interacting With: IC Post # 666

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A look of triumphant glee flashed across the rough and scarred face of the group's resident Pugilist as his iron grip fell upon nothing, hand collapsing into a fist with the destruction of the malevolent blood-fog. His massive fist raised in victory, teeth bared in a sneer of superiority, emphasized by a great, growling, monosyllabic shout: "HAAA!!!"

...which was immediately cut off by the splatting, messy expiration of the thing proper. Cold, thick blood exploded onto him, impacting upon his face and torso with crimson rivulets and icy clots, as if someone had passed a cow through a sieve and smacked him with it. Judging from the amount of gooey fluid, it was a safe estimation that it was not all his. Keystone froze, unsure as to what exactly happened, unsure what he should do now, and trying to maintain his composure.

His fist was still in the air. His face was still twisted into an expression of triumph. The wind buffeted the hem of his reinforced hide coat, seemingly the only movement about him whatsoever. However, were one to look very closely, one might have noticed that a single eye opened amid the runny red mask that was his face, where reflexively they had shut against the unnatural surprise that assailed him. The one eye darted about, this way and that, taking in what it could before refusing to deal with what had just happened.

His denial was short lived.

"Ah bloodyfonging'ell my mouth was open!" he half yelled, half spat. A series of interesting retching sounds escaped the broad man and he made a dash over to his nearby provisions. Unstopping a the bottle of spirits he had out before turning in for his unsuccessful meditations, he raised it high and let a fair amount of the contents fall onto his face and into his mouth, whereupon Keystone did his best impression of a whale spouting old blood and decent liquor. He shook like a wet dog and began unbuckling his coat.

That's when he noticed the spellcaster giving the unconscious Sana his attentions. "Oi! What're you on about? Eh?" Keystone strode over to the fallen Bard and took a knee, curiosity and worry prompting the big man to find out what was going on. He was not a medical man. Quite the opposite, Keystone generally put people in the need for a healer's craft. Nonetheless, he felt compelled to see to this person, directly or indirectly. It was maddening, really.

Location:Beside the Cave
Interacting with:Satilla

His arrows seemed to have very little effect on the creature, but that did not seem to matter too much in the long run. Well, save for the fact that he might need to go collect those arrows later, but in either case. The beast had literally exploded in blood, all over Keystone and Satilla. Calanon certainly did not envy them, he had to admit. First thing was first, and he let out a great whistle. Within moments, a shaken Brogach trotted up to him, looking positively guilty.

Calanon's hand upon his snout soothed the Elk. "I blame you not, friend. This night has been full of unnatural blights." Brogach let out a large breath, and nuzzled the Elf's hand. Once they were on the same page, Calanon heard a great sputtering as Keystone nearly drowned himself in alcohol, and then stomped his way over to Sana. Calanon shook his head, figuring Sana would be fine in the long run. He wondered if Keystone knew of his fondness for her, or he was oblivious to what was obvious to the rest of them.

Satilla! Calanon saw her soaked in blood, and knew that he should go and help her, if nothing else. Yes she would need to see to Sana, and soon. However he could do his best for her in the meantime. He grabbed his water bottle and bounded over to where Satilla was, holding out his water bottle for her. "Sip and wash yourself, friend."

Satilla Valen

Finally it was over! Mostly... not really... it was annoying! Satilla's eyes closed as her face made a grimace when blood washed over her and Keystone. She was red.... wet... and soon to be sticky. Not the most pleasant situation to happen, but the misty thing was gone for now at least. Did they defeat it or did it run it's course and simply left she didn't exactly know. What she did realize was that Sana's condition appeared to be worse than she initially suspected.

As everyone moved over to the fallen bard, Satilla just wiped the blood from her face in haste as she was preparing to move over to the bard and use her craft.” Not now, no time to wash.” She replied to Calanon and quickly moved over to the gathering around Sana.” That's what I'm about to do, Thomas.” Satilla stated and pulled up her sleeves.

“Alright, make some space, I need to touch her in order to heal her!” The witch stated, making her way towards the bard. She already knew what she want's to use – a Cure serious wounds spell! And in the worst case that's not enough, she had her life pact to add to it. For now though her cure serious wounds was already her focus.

She reached to touch and in the moment the contact would happen, she was ready to cast the spell.

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“Yes!”, she silently proclaimed as the undead orc went down. Though as the others paid no mind to it and had continued to walk off, that yes sank low into the depths of her gut, lingering with defeat and frustration. It seemed the others had managed to find victory at least. Still unaware if the last arrow had penetrated the thing at all, she realized it didn't quite matter. The red mist was dead, or otherwise evaporated, and their group was finally safe.

Lerraina took a moment atop the trees to scan the perimeter, all the blood. It seems their hosts were nowhere to be found, save the corpses of which littered the area. She let out a heavy breath. And taking whatever arrows were left between her and Kyra, she carefully descended the tree to join the others. She whistled low for her companion, and as her feet reached solid ground, there was finally a sense of relief, of safety.

Making her way through the carnage, she contemplated her next course of action. She knew she hadn't contributed greatly, well maybe she helped slow it down but, she was sure that her efforts to kill this thing were not as great as others. Even Crixus, the bird, yet again, stood in the face of death. In the end, he may not have done much, other than serve as a distraction to the big thing, if at all. Lerraina wondered for a moment if it was even worth it to stay. After all, a warm bed in a tavern somewhere sounded much more appetizing than a fight with the undead. She didn't sign on for this. Her brows wrinkled as her thoughts proceed. She was just passing through to the next town. But then she realized, this wasn't a singular event. What if it happened again? What if it happened to the very Inn she had decided to run off to?! Her face hardened with resolve and as she came to meet the rest of the group, she uttered the following words:

“Is everyone alive?”, she fell right back into the role of Gretchen. Crixus was perched on her shoulder as she approached them, "is there anything I can do to help?”

Ntaj would have celebrated slaying the ghost, but there wasn’t any fanfare. The moment the creature was killed, it exploded into blood, drenching Keystone, himself, and anyone else unlucky enough to be within the splash zone. The blood reminded Ntaj that he was stark nude and very cold. The heat of battle had allowed him to ignore most of the negative effects of being naked at night, but Ntaj’s blood-soaked body brought this harsh reality back to him. Shivering Ntaj didn’t notice anymore enemies right now but there could be more soon. First thing’s first: dealing with this cold. He went back over to his tent, dropping his flail on the ground to pick up his sword. Then he reached inside the tent and took out one of his furs to wipe off all this blood.

At this point Ntaj’s rage was slowly dying down. He felt the few wounds on his body, but what was worse was the fatigue. Tapping into his primal rage was a taxing on him, and while it granted him a burst of strength it also made him weak afterwards. He’d like nothing more than to crawl back into his tent and sleep, but until all the danger here was dealt with there would be no rest. Picking up his choppa Ntaj slowly walked his way back towards the others, holding a clean fur blanket for anyone who needed the warmth or to wipe down.

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Season: Late Fall/Early Winter
Time Of Day: Night, middle of.
Weather: Cool and damp, with a clear, open sky
General Ambiance: Too quiet, outside of the pressing medical emergency
Location: Between the Orc Cave and the Ice Wall

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Sana's unconscious form began to spasm and choke as the thick liquid of Thomas's potion made its way down her throat. The resistance given was weak, far weaker than her taught and wiry muscles would have ordinarily put forth. This was obviously the reflexive firing of nerves and not a true effort to save herself from syrupy drowning. Now then, some of that potion got where it was supposed to go. The application of the energizing liquid will take effect in less than a minute, but is weakened to a degree that she is only conscious, not upright. Sana will require rest, unless acted upon by another source of assistance. Now the question is: Does she choke to death in the meantime?

Satilla succeeds in getting over to Sana, mostly because Keystone is eager for some measure of non-murderous help to be provided to his fallen friend. When Satilla mentions the phrase "heal her", he deliberately(?) falls backward and rolls over twice, clearing a path asap. He glares over to Thomas as he rises, potentially contemplating the effects of open pit barbecuing on a young, male spellcaster if the look on his face is any indication, but refrains from taking any action. His gaze returns to Satilla and Sana.

It's about this time that Lerraina and Ntaj re-scale the lower section of the still present Wall O' Ice. (yup, still there, guys) and rejoin the group. Everyone else is crowded around Sana's medical emergency, except for Cyneburg, standing apart from them with her axe-cane and Keystone's big shiny knife, and Calanon, busy watering his elk.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled drama. AAAAND ...Go.

Cyneburg

Location: Orc Cave
Interacting with:Gretchin

"As far as I know, everyone's still alive," Cyne responded to Gretchin's uncharacteristically helpful set of questions. The only person who might be dead was Sana, and she was surrounded on all sides by people trying to do things. Having a racial knack for seeing in the dark did not help much when spotting your target would require X-ray vision. Cyne gave Gretchin a once over. She seemed alright, but it wouldn't hurt to verbally confirm thatshe wasn't secretly injured.

"Are you unharmed? As far as helping out, I don't think there's anything in particular you would be able to assist with. Unless you have some method of getting rid of this wall of ice." Cyne planted the base of her axe-cane into the ground and rested her weight upon it, watching the commotion surrounding Sana. It seemed like she was recovering? Whatever the case, once things settled down a bit, she could hand Keystone his knife back. And then maybe get some shut eye. There was still a big day ahead, and there had been enough nocturnal activity for just about everyone.

Satilla Valen

The witch managed to easily make her way to the fallen Sana, mostly thanks to Keystone who with great haste removed himself from his place to allow her access to the bard. Without losing any time as she moved, the witch's spells almost flare when a faint sound reached her ears. It was her nice great hearing that this time made her realize almost what huge mistake she did! She still needed to heal her, but before that there was another thing to be taken care of... thing that could kill Sana!

The witch barely heard it, but the bard's breathing was slightly off and not the from the frost... She right away pressed an ear against the injured woman's chest.” KEYSTONE, QUICK ELEVATE HER! She's got liquid in her lungs, we need it removed as much as possible before I use my spells on her!” Satilla shouted as she looked at the man, already trying to turn Sana to the side, not wanting to lose any moment until Keystone could provide his great physical strength!

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"Thankfully, because of Kyra, I am fine", she quickly responded to the druid's question with a nod. A sudden standing between life and death can sometimes push a person to be more 'helpful', at least that was the story Lerraina would go with. She realized, she hadn't interacted much with the druid since they first met. "Unfortunately though, I can't say I have any methods of getting rid of the ice wall.", she was a scout, not a bloody magician, but even with that, she felt like she contributed less to the group than she could have. "To find a path around or over it perhaps.....", she swiped a hand over the hard, cold surface before returning her gaze to the rest of the group, finally settling on Thomas. "Or perhaps the mage would be of better use with this."

Lerraina noticed how Keystone glared at the young boy. If anything, her words would move Thomas out of harms way, for now.

"The orcs have turned and all but one have fled ... whatever that thing was, I don't believe we've seen the last of its kind. It's not safe to linger more than we need to. As our healer is occupied at the moment, I have herbs if anyone have need. The sooner we can re-group, the sooner we can get out of this hell hole."

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Location: Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three/Morning of Day Four

Interacting With: Satilla, Sana

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"You want me to what her? 'Ere? Front of everybody?"

Keystone was a fairly open man, as these things were concerned. It had been said that he was a man that lacked some of the basic elements of shame, even when it was to his benefit. But he wasn't without scruples as it came to others. To his mind, it just didn't seem to be the proper moral path, with the party all around them and her in a state of physical distress. Point of fact, Keystone had half a mind to tell this inappropriately garbed witch exactly what he felt about her suggestion, and imply that her gender and small stature were the only things keeping her from some manner of rough treatment for even suggesting that Keystone take advantage of a respected colleague and fellow warrior in that egregious manner.

"Don't know what kinda healer you claim to be, miss, but you... ..oh. Oh! ELEVATE. Yeah, I'm on it."

Well, that could have gone better. Keystone's judgement had been a little questionable lately, he realized. It seemed anything concerning his friend (if "friend" was appropriate, they'd only spent a few days adventuring together before, and a while back) made him shift priorities. He had never been a man to consciously list priority, more than a man who instinctively acted, confident that he was doing the right thing with willful abandon. The vast majority of the time, it was with certainty. Sana's presence had invoked certain protective instincts that, while always present, now seemed to quiet everything else. Why the hell did she have to kiss him? Why couldn't she just slap him to make him break off his attack on the spellcaster? Or better yet, would it have made a difference? Keystone was a very physical guy.

"Right! Elevate." The occidental monk rolled Sana over onto her stomach. He proceeded to wrap one massive hand around her ankles and lifted her from the ground in a single, fluid motion, seemingly unimpressed with the amount of weight he had to bear. Keystone placed his other hand upon her sternum to steady her, providing a more natural, supporting angle than just allowing her to swing freely like a human-shaped pendulum. "Now then." he started in a concerned voice, "Hack up the skinny prat's liquid, love. You got this."

There would be choice words later.

Location:Beside the Cave
Interacting with:Gretchin, Cyneburg

Calanon didn't blame Satilla for scurrying away. He had thought Thomas had helped her, but apparently there was some problem with the potion he had given Sana, a problem that had Keystone glaring like nobody's business. He wished he could be of more help, but it seemed everyone was attempting to, and Satilla was best suited for it. His herbal remedies should be saved for some other time or peril. Speaking of which, he heard a familiar voice speak of such herbal practices, and he turned to see Gretchin standing with Cyneburg.

It was actually quite comical when he appeared before them, literally skidding to a stop. He had been so busy during the battle, he had seen Cyneburg but could not recall when he had last seen Gretchin! He looked her up and down, and then breathed a sigh of relief, happy to see her, and in fact both of them unharmed from this struggle. "It does my heart well to see you both alright," he said in relief, putting a hand onto his forehead, lifting a bit of his thick hair up as he sighed again.

He let out a light chuckle. "I don't believe I'd ever seen such a monster before, but it seemed that mattered little for its sake."

Ntaj continued to rest away the fatigue, his eyes scanning the forests for any further hostiles. Alas, nothing. Not even the orcs who they camped near. There were still a few bones on the ground along with their rusted weapons, but aside from shattering the skulls and bones underfoot, there wasn't much else for Ntaj to do. He gathered up a few of the weapons he thought might still be serviceable and he'd come by to collect them later. But after that was done he looked back towards the group who seemed to be doing... Something to Sana. Ntaj didn't really question it. Wrapping the fur around his waist into a makeshift skirt he walked towards the group, curious about what was going to happen now.

Everyone was talking a lot and saying things that Ntaj didn't quite understand. He had the general idea that there was talk about treating Sana and dealing with the Ice Wall, but Ntaj had to concentrate to make sense of anything else. Eventually he just shrugged his shoulders and chimed in. "Fight over. Go back to bed?" Ntaj wasn't sure what time it was, but he felt like daybreak was only a few hours away. They'd have to discover what became of the orcish army here and if their leader still lives. If he doesn't, they may not even need to go mediate between the orcish army and the villagers, as their leaders would be fractured. Or perhaps this would just make the roads even more dangerous as brands of orcish warriors turn to raiding, along with whatever undead threat still loomed in this forest.

Whatever the case may be, Ntaj was too tired to really think about it. He just wanted to know if he could go back to bed without getting attacked by more zombies.

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Kyra stood slowly and stepped back, giving room but her eyes flashed at Thomas as he poured the drink down Sana's throat. "Are you mental????" she snapped moving to push him away from her. "Pouring liquid down a persons throat like that, someone who can't swallow? Are you trying to kill her? What, cause she pulled off magic that you couldn't? Cause she helped when your ass just stood there talking while the rest of us fought? Fucking egotistical worthless knownothing. Guess all that schooled learning you were bragging about didn't mean shit!" she spat as she stayed out of the way, letting the real healer of the group get close to Sana and hopefully save her childhood friend.

Epona paced nervously around the group, Ash growling low as he padded up and over to Kyra, Kyras hand coming out and resting on her dyrewolf's head, patting him gently. "Oh no, if she dies because of his moronic deeds I'll rip his throat out personally," she said from between her clenched teeth. Ash half way growling, half way whimpering but in the end sitting down on his hind quarters, just waiting and watching.

Kyra rested her free hand on the hilt of her sword, her fingers lightly caressing the metal as her eyes darted between Sana and Thomas. Sana on the other hand was not moving as of yet, she looked pale and broken. The liquid pouring down her throat and straight into her lungs for she could not swallow. and she was too far in the state of unconsciousness for her body to even give a gag reflex. Like a person that had drowned and washed up on the shores. Twitches here and there and a low gurgling but nothing that was of enough force to actually clear out her lungs. Sure some of it got to where it needed to be but not near enough to do any real help, in fact to look at it, because of the flooding of her lungs it did far more harm than good.

It wasn't until Keystone picked her up as if she had stepped in a trap and hung her upside down did the liquid start to flow out and onto the ground, the potion mixed with lung fluids. Drooling out of her mouth and nose as her body continued to twitch and yet there was still no movement from the gypsy. Kyra's fingers were starting to wrap around the hilt of her blade, starting to pull it from its sheath. Her eyes narrowing as she watched her friend dangle there as if she was the catch of the day. Nearly stepping towards Thomas until she heard a spat coming from the other direction.

Sana's body finally began to hack and cough and even bark trying to clear the fluids until finally everything was expunged. Kyra froze in her spot as Epona whinnied but there was no more noise coming from her but a heavy wheeze from her lungs. She was breathing but it was like she was suffering from a horrible lung infection now and her body was still chilled and now shivering reflexively. Kyra's hand did not release from the hilt, but her breath held, waiting to see what happened next.

Cyneburg

Location: Orc Cave
Interacting with:Gretchin, Calanon, Ntaj

"I wouldn't be so quick to leave. If we must deal with another barrage of undead, I would rather have a battalion of orcs as back up, if only for the strength in numbers." The orc forces probably weren't doing so hot after suffering from a terrible case of explosions, but even then, they would be of far more assistance than being alone alone on the road. The position provided also strategic advantages inherent in the terrain. The cave provided a choke point where one could retreat and focus on a single direction; if the party just up and left and ended up getting attacked again while out in the open, they'd have to worry about attacker coming from any and all directions.

"I'm glad we aren't injured either, else we might be in her position." Cyne gestured towards Sana, who was currently upside down and sputtering. The idea of being handled like that while unconscious was unwelcome, but at the same time, it perhaps was better than just being left out to die. Perhaps. "And no, Ntaj. We aren't going to sleep now. If Sana recovers quickly, we can hopefully sleep again soon."

It could have gone better. Much better. Or much worse. It appeared Thomas' attempt to help was honestly inept at best. Or rather since he's not quite proficient in the medical arts, this was not part of his magical education. That being said, an attempt was better than none or at least in his mind at the time. Against perhaps the wisdom or aloofness that Star phase would have brought or the shyness Moon Phase would have brought. It would seem, Sun phase was lacking in better judgment. To which what was done was done, and no one had chance to stop him before it was too late. Strange that no one had tried, perhaps everyone was just adjusting to their battle roles from earlier. One that, Thomas could contribute little to unless people wanted to end up being caught in the very spells he used against the enemies. Which to be fair was very hard to with all the melee combatants.

But it seems the fates were kind to Sana, as the fluids rolled down, trickling like envious death down into her airways. Sure some did manage to go down the esophagus, minding the viscosity and specific gravity of a thick fluid, but that alone did not stop the glottis from being open and gravity to slowly roll the potion down her bronchus. And those cartilaginous rings which made soft noises as Thomas felt them at this fingertips, having attempted to manipulate them out of the way of the fluid's roll. Alas, nothing seemed to help regardless and suddenly everyone was interested in Sana who presently began to cough up and choke on the emerald potion.

Well that was a relief, Thomas didn't accidentally kill her. Then again only half the party seemed to understand what was going on, and said half was all gathered around Sana. Including Thomas, Kyra, Satilla, Keystone, and animals. The others, well they seemed to be around. Oh and Sana was still choking on something as the fluid reached her lungs. A case of accidental pulmonary edema from 100mls of potion, split between its actual intended target and the lungs. Although should it reach all the way to the level of the alveoli, Sana would not be in the best of shape even with her consciousness partially restored, and the potion kicking up her sympathetic to paradoxically causing an amount of distress given her current state of respiratory distress. Fortunately the ventilation perfusion mismatch seemed to be in relative balance given that she had not completely expired by now, but these precious seconds tick away as Thomas slowly backed away, letting Satilla and Keystone, and Kyra take over. He's probably done enough.

"Oh No, I'm sorry I didn't mean to... I... Yes, clearly Thomas wasn't really winning anyone over, not after two escapades. "I was just trying to help I..." Maybe he was better off making himself scarce. They were about three breaths short of gutting Thomas right now out of righteous fury. They were probably better off without him. Most likely, they didn't seem to need an offensive spellcaster. No they had enough utility casters, the group dynamics made it apparent. Thomas was the odd one out, and thus, he made his mind to just... Leave before things get worse.

"I'm sorry, I really am, I... I should just go... I'm sorry everyone... I'll... I'll leave the group immediately... I'm sorry... It was an accident..." Backing out of the circle towards the ice wall which prevented him from leaving just so. A solar flare spell would probably be able to melt this wall down. And thus with a movement of his hand Thomas prepared his third to last spell of the day...