<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/41/Xazgir_Hedon.jpeg)<br/><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">●○</span></div></div><strong>Xazgir Hedon</strong>(https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/Namey/characters/21431248)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Western Ramp<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Anvils<br/><strong>HP</strong>: 98/98<strong>AC</strong>: 16<br/><strong>Active Effects</strong>: None<br/><strong>Spell Slots</strong>: ●●●● | ●●<br/><hr/><br/><em>"No need to wait then is there, my friend?  Let the killing commence!"</em><br/><br/>Hearing these words, a grin cracked wide across Xazgir's face. His was the visage of wickedness and spite. "Good, mortal! I like you." If she survived,he would be happy to share some time and battle stories with her. He didn't hold much hope either way, however. The fact was, even the most peaceful of mortals dropped like mayflies without warning.<br/><br/>A loud cracking could be heard as he doubled over, spine bowed and shoulder blades shifting with a pop as they made room for something. And sudden as could be, a pair of skin-toned, bloodied, bat-like wings shot forth from his back, rending flesh and drawing a roar of pain and adrenaline in the process.<br/><br/>He stood tall then, wings stretching and expanding as he breathed a deep, revelling "Ahh..." Then, with one great flap of his wings, he sprung from the earth in a mad flight towards the battle ahead.<br/><br/><em>When he's close enough for it to not be a waste, he will cast Mirror Image on himself, creating three copies of himself that shift and swirl confusingly about him.</em>