<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 - 2/5  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>Standard Perception:</strong>+0<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/><br/><hr/><br/>Once the boat was secure, Silvy would join the others in digging out their things. She did a quick pass over of her inventory, making sure her scrolls in particular were still intact, before shouldering her pack and looking out across the beach. While Sophia and Sresk went on a quick scouting run, the witch made her own search, scanning the craggy rocks until she found one that stood tall and mostly flat, suitably close to where they had landed. Making her way over she ran her hand across the stone, a deep breath escaping her nose as the high of landfall started to ebb, and the gravity of their losses once again stepped to the front of her mind.<br/><br/>Reaching into her bag Silvy brought out ten candles. Kneeling down she would set out the candles in front of the rock, equally spaced in a line, working at a slow, ceremonial pace. With flint and steel she lit each candle in turn, muttering each of their fallen crew's names as she did. Once all ten candles were lit she would rise to her feet and pull out one of her acid dipped cards. Using the corner almost like a quill Silvy would elegantly burn each of their names into the rock, a permanent monument to contrast with the fleeting flames of the candles. While the candles would eventually burn down and blow away, just as their companions themselves had, their names would forever be carved upon this land, showing that, in some sense at least, they had finished their journey alongside them. She didn't know what traditions each of them followed, or what funeral practices they would have desired, but this was as good of a memorial as she could think of. And while she wasn't religious herself, she still mouthed a silent wish for them to all find safe passage to their respective afterlives. Hopefully they didn't need her encouragement, hopefully they had all long arrived to the paradises their Gods had promised them, hopefully they were already resting well and this ritual only served to give herself comfort.<br/><br/>By the time she finished her task her hand was shaking, the last few names more jagged and scrawled as a result, made worse because they were the ones she had failed the most: Henrick, Jolan, Hilda, the ones who had died under her care, her feeble promises to save them the last words they would hear. She had but a few seconds to assess her handiwork before her vision became blurred with tears, falling back to her knees on the hot sand. Finally it all came out, and it was no graceful act. It was not just a single tear rolling artfully down her cheek, nor a handful of whimpers quickly brought back to stoicism. No, her grief came in gasping sobs and shuddered breaths that sometimes left her cries muted or sputtered. Her tears were ugly, because her pain was real...