Gerad was one of the of the first white mages to arrive from one of the nearby towns, and immediatly headed to the triage tents near the impact zone. He was ushered into the main tents quickly, and he was suprised by the number of wounded.<br/><br/>"who needs healing the most?" he asked the nearest doctor. the doctor led him to a small tent by the side. "these patients have wounds we can only relieve them from. most will not make it another day."<br/><br/>Gerad proceeded to move bed to bed, murmuring gentle encocuragements to those he healed, concious or not. his hands glowed with the light of his healing, and most he healed he managed to heal completely. others, however, even he coudln't completely help. as his mana ran low, he healed less and less. with the final person, all he managed to do was clear the infection that was starting to form. he tiredly called the doctors in to finish up, and moved towards the rubble, leaning somewhat heavily on his staff. he moved towards the largest concentration of people, who seem to have centered their work around an automaton, and used his staff for leverage in moving rocks away. the manual labor gave him time to recover, and he healed those he found, aquiring a gash along his jaw by a shard of metal when the rock he was levering suddenly shifted and caught him off balance. he quickly healed himself, and went back to work.