<div class="floatleft">(https://db4sgowjqfwig.cloudfront.net/campaigns/14025/assets/693075/17e1a21e10521e4137beb7cd26dd69a1.jpg?1485761171)</div><strong>Name</strong>:<em>Lana Autumnmour</em><br/><strong>Hit Points</strong>:<em>43/43</em><br/><hr/><br/>Fey. That was the conclusion Lana had come to in these painfully long hours. Not that she had ever met one - or even cared to - but what else was she to think? There was the music that visited even her dreams, this natural place that teemed with magic, and these 'people' (likely illusions according to her train of thought) that seemed more interested in their artistic pursuits and cavorting about than addressing this prison they all now shared.<br/><br/>She wouldn't give whatever creature had dragged her here the satisfaction it craved by running about in blind panic. There was little doubt in her mind that a priestess of Lathander's patience eclipsed that of some capricious forest monster. All she had to do was wait and her captor would lose interest. That is why the young cleric knelt onto the still grass and settled in, hands folded across her lap and head bowed in silent prayer. For hours, Lana inadvertently did her best impression of the tree, remaining eerily silent and absolutely motionless, only lapsing in her concentration to suspiciously gaze towards the others from beneath her white hood, if only to see if her captor had given up the ruse.<br/><br/>It was the wooden groaning of the tree that finally roused her, its sudden cry causing Lana to look up and quizzically scan the plains before her. Energy surged and the fabric of her prison tore open, leaving the priestess to steel herself for the encounter she had known would come eventually. The flames erupting from the portal brought the woman to her feet with an audible gasp, her hands tightening on the polished staff of white and gold. Fey were a headache but swirling portals of flame had a reputation for producing much nastier things.<br/><br/>It was a relief to see the hulking green form stumble out onto the plains even though she knew without a doubt that it was the thing responsible for her predicament. At least it wasn't a demon - that was the one positive thing she could say for it. The entrance was not what she had expected, though. The thing that had stolen her from her bed now lay before her, yellow liquid spilling from obvious wounds. Lana's features softened and her head tilted, curiously studying the creature and its labored groans. This had to be a trick, right?<br/><br/>As justified as she may have been to hate this creature, it went against everything she believed to simply stand by and watch it suffer - trap or no trap. Cautiously, Lana stepped forward, each step growing shorter and more unsure as she closed in on the lumbering mound of green before her. The priestess crouched next to one of its arms, leaning against her staff to steady herself as she slowly extended a single hand that held a ball of radiant white light as pure as the nothingness that surrounded her on all sides. There was a note of concern on her face upon noticing that wood stood in place of flesh all across the creature's body. All she could do for now was pray and hope that her spell worked.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Going to cast cure wounds as a first level spell. I can add more if it works and it looks like he needs it.</div></div>