<em><strong>Faedra Crimson, Elven Wizard (5) (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8884)</strong></em><br/><em>Hit Points:  27/31 || Armor Class: 15 (Touch 14, Flat-Footed 12) || Fort: +2, Ref: +4, Will: +5</em><br/><strong><em>Spells Prepared:</em></strong><br/><em><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Cantrips:</strong></span> Detect Magic, Light, Ray of Frost, Prestidigitation, <span class="bbc_u"><strong>1st-Level Spells:</strong></span> Mage Armor, Shield, Enlarge Person, Magic Missile, Magic Missile, <span class="bbc_u"><strong>2nd-Level Spells:</strong></span> <del>Blur</del>, Bull's Strength, <del>Acid Arrow</del>, Acid Arrow, <span class="bbc_u"><strong>3rd-Level Spells:</strong></span> <del>Haste</del>, Fireball</em><br/><hr/><br/>Faedra staggered after her stomach was cut so bad she wanted to just curl up and hold herself. The pain was far more real and intense than any practice could prepare her for, but it was also her own carelessness that caused it, reminding her further why a mage belonged to the back lines of a fight. She was lucky to still be standing.<br/><br/>Feeling the spell cast upon her she drew a deep breath, grateful for the pain-killing effect of it, numbing her wounds and healing most of them already. Catching her breath a short moment she narrowed her eyes then at the remaining thugs, shivering with the life again running through her.<br/><br/>Her skin was soft to the touch, well cared for and dutifully maintained, even on long journeys, but saving it from scarring was certainly a good way to make her appreciate having a healer around. She wasn't always the most vocal person about her gratitude, but she did appreciate the man. Right now, if they were not in a fight, she would have thanked him a bit better, but at the time she only had time to nod her head and speak in a short response.<strong>"Thank you."</strong><br/><br/>Taking a deep breath and glancing about her to make sure there was no more thugs in touching range she raised her hand at the thug before Kreios, chanting.<strong>""</strong>Her hand conjured a ghostly arrow, glowing crimson like she did, before the arrow shot off and split into three in the air, aiming to pierce the man with the conjured magic.<br/><br/>That spell cast, she turned her eyes briefly yet to the strange view of the dying, or dead, trying to recall anything she could about such things. Her studies had been good and covered a lot of topics but some topics were easier to forget than others.<br/><br/><hr/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Rolls</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2011-07-06 19:58:36, Faedra (uid: 16754) rolls: 3d4a3 Result: 13 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=29051) Magic Missile (damage)<br/>At 2011-07-06 05:20:55, Faedra (uid: 16754) rolls: 1d20a14 Result: 31 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=29008) Spellcraft<br/>At 2011-07-06 05:21:21, Faedra (uid: 16754) rolls: 1d20a14 Result: 21 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=29009) Knowledge (Planes)</div></div>