<div class="floatleft">(https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/815728859978137602/943694562684207124/The_Nyss.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Cinsyr Syvas<br/><strong>Class:</strong>Warcaster<br/><strong>Hitpoints:</strong>21/21<br/><strong>Action:</strong>Arcane Bolt into the man Meryll hit. 17 to hit, 9 points of damage.<br/><strong>Extra:</strong>“Speech”<br/><hr/><br/>There's a noise of surprise from the Nyss, who just barely managed to yank his journal to his chest before fire spreads across the table. Remorse for his wasted bowl of soup flashes across his face, but the man quickly pockets his book, wasting no time. Seeing how quickly the flames were spreading, Cin cursed quietly to himself. There was fire inside, and bandits outside. Cocky ones too, if they're attacking in broad daylight. Sighing deeply, he glares at the broken down door.<br/><br/>“... What is it they say? Out of the frying pan and into the fire?” Ducking through the exit, snow crunches beneath his boots as Cinsyr takes in the scene in front of him. Counting all the bandits before him quickly- he targets the one the silver haired woman had shot. She looked sort of familiar, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that.<br/><br/>Pulling his hood off, he mutters words of power. Arcane sparks dance across his fingertips, before an arcane bolt shoots out, slamming into the chest of the man the silver haired one was fighting.<br/><br/>With a last cry of pain, he falls back. Dead. That was another down, but still more to go.<br/>