<div class="floatleft">(http://drakonis.org/uploads/7/v/0/7v0ng7m0e3/2010/09/19/20100919230558-9765ca7b.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_u">A Man of Mercury:</span></span></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Devrier Wick</span></span><br/><em>Ranger of the Rosewood Forest</em><br/>Character Sheet (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=263351); 44 HP (Current 34); AC 22 (AC 24)<br/>Arrows:  50 in quiver<br/><br/><hr/><br/>A rattling, doomed cough awakened Devrier Wick from his repose.  It was his own.  He was choking on dirt.  He was dying.  But before fear and exasperation could permit death to claim him, Wick's training kicked in.  A warden's training covered landslides and mine collapses, for the reach of the bowman's law extended into the mountains beyond the Great Forest, and deep into its dark dens.  It was their mission to survive and thrive anywhere within the boundaries of their jurisdiction, and that was what Devrier Wick planned to do.  So in a ragged action, Devrier shifted rock and dirt to free his right arm.  Groping, heaving, grunting, Devrier extricated himself, until he finally lay on his back upon the ground, staring up into the comforting darkness.<br/><br/>"By the gods," he said, gasping hungrily for air now that his lungs were free,  "...  liberty."  He then got up slowly, administering to his small cuts and bruises with an assuring palm.  Nothing broken.  No wounds.  It was a miracle.<br/><br/>Then he heard a voice from within the darkness, and saw an orb of light sprout.  He approached it.<br/><br/>"... I am alive," he said, groping through the darkness beyond the light spell's perimeter.   "And, for the most part, am uninjured.  How long do you have on that spell?"