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Gaining his feet shakily, Krazixs stands cautiously awaiting the chance the ground might move again. With a superhuman effort the small elf gains control of his shakey stomach and slowly makes his way toward the cave where the priest entered. Reaching the cavern with amazingly little stumbling, the elf enters the cave to stand in the room next to Father Quadrial.
. . . ring each for the lord's warrior and the forest lord
and for the last son of the three
there is no need to be laid so low, a periapt for your well being
And for my son who gives my words...
a symbol, a token of my faith
thanks
and may you fare well in your quest to rid the darkness and aid the light."
The divine voice rings in Krazixs ears with a eerie familiarity, flashes of voices, lights, and colors run through his mind in a mental barrage. Staggering slightly the elf reaches into the light and takes the periapt. Strength and health flow into the small body, his mind begins struggle with the images flooding his mind.
The strain is too much, the elf's mind closes, and predictably, he passes out.
Blinking and wide- eyed Krazixs stares at the cave ceiling pondering exactly how he ended up on his back. The memory comes back slowly. Standing he looks at the periapt in his hand and revels in the feeling of health that he hasn't felt in an age. Something tickles the back of his mind, as if he's forgotton something or lost something. Shrugging the elf forgets about it, there's so many holes in his memory already what's one more?
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The Kender in your party has just screamed in fear. Please roll a d20 to see how many of your body parts are still identifiable.
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