<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/HIy8csg.png?1)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Silvy Volkar (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2448010)<br/></span></span><hr/><em>Lvl 4 Female Dhampir Witch</em><br/><strong>HP:</strong>32<strong>AC:</strong>16<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">spells</div><div class="spoiler_body">lv. 0 - prestidigitation, mending, stabilize, light<br/>lv. 1 - 5/5  mage armor, enlarge person, reduce person, inflict light wounds, ill omen<br/>lv. 2 - 6/6  vomit swarm, alter self, inflict moderate wounds, steal breath</div></div><br/><strong>Effects:</strong>Ward hex on Sophia (+2 AC, +2 on saving throws, lasts until target gets hit or fails saving throw)<br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center">Silvy had set off on this journey with such light in her eyes....they were dimmer now....</div><br/>To say the trip had been arduous spoke not to the journey's taxation, but to one's inadequate vocabulary. To be honest she wasn't sure there even was a word to properly describe what they had endured. If there was it didn't exist across the five languages she spoke. Some might think to call her a soft noble for complaining, but she was no stranger to hard work.<em>This</em>wasn't hard work, this was something completely different, and it had left her completely drained each and every night: physically, magically, mentally, and emotionally.<br/><br/>The deaths they had endured so far weighted especially heavy on her. After all she had earned her way into this band on the boasts of her magic, how she could protect and heal her companions. And she was trying, she really, truly was. Whenever she wasn't taking her turn rowing she was scampering across the deck putting out metaphorical fires. Mending equipment, invigorating the weak, healing wounds. She was doing her best to quite literally keep the crew together, but there were just too many bodies, and not enough magic to attend to them all. Two of the biggest culprits that constantly thwarted her weren't the physical strain and injuries they sustained, but the scourge of sickness and spoiled rations. Unfortunately her wicked mentors had been much more focused on causing such maladies rather than curing them, creating a fatal gap in her knowledge. The fact that she knew how to spoil and putrefy food and water, but not purify them, was a cruel irony that constantly mocked her in the back of her mind.<br/><br/>Suddenly Sophia would feel a soft body slump against her back, full breasts pressing into her shoulders. It was a closeness that neither were in the right state to actually enjoy, and Sophia could easily tell it was less an act of intimacy and more of exhaustion on Silvy's part, "hufhh...how are you holding up? Should I patch you up?" Silvy asked, offering to alleviate some of her ills, her sunburn in particular had gotten pretty bad in the past few hours. Silvy had paid particular care towards their leader over the past 2 months, always prioritizing her well being over everyone else, exemplified by the near-invisible ward wrapped around Sophia's body, ready to shield her from sudden danger. It was understandable, after all they needed to keep their leader in fit condition to properly lead, but that didn't stop some from scorning her bias, especially as their own conditions worsened.