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"I believe his threat is ended."
Krazixs struggled under the pile of heavy weaponry, moving them aside he stood shakily leaning up against the wall. He looked a horror, his dirty robe, was now heavily soaked with blood and hung in shreds oh his lean frame. Closing his eyes the elf's eyes mouthed silent words and soon his wounds closed leaving behind faint pink scars that criss crossed his body. Standing the elf tears the rags that cover his torso leaving him in a comical state. He stands in a ragged cloth that covers him from loins to knees below which are his too small leather shoes. The remnants of his robe is held up by a piece of rope that is also serving as a sword belt. His torso is bare, decorated liberally with fresh pink lines, along with numerous larger scars, that seem to grow more numerous as they wind their way to his back.
Moving his way over to D'Aleen the elf kneels and takes the elf's head in his hand. Words in a alien language are spoken and a soft light envelops D'Aleen.
Standing Krazixs looks around to his other companions to see who else is hurt.
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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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