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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Aust Thale" data-source="post: 9033427" data-attributes="member: 6804768">Falen:Falen grits his teeth as the magical ice storm pummels him.  It is at this moment he realizes how beaten his body is.  Bloody, black, and blue, he quickly surveys the array of combatants and allies.  Akos magically jumps out of the ice and finds himself far too close to the warehouse.  This seemingly endless stream of fodder is a concern.  As is the Butcher.  As is this sorceress.  Falen could hear shouting on the other side of the building; he would assume reinforcements had arrived.  All this over a candle-maker, indeed.  He then hears the battle yells of the fodder coming out of the warehouse.  He sighs.  More carnage.  He glances at the body of the dead dwarf merc.  He glances back at the Dusk assassin and the other poor sop who waded into his blade.  He turns back toward Akos and the fodder, and trudges through the ice 15’ west along the candle shop wall.  Reaching it, he taps his magical belt, and nearly instantly feels the deepest of his wounds heal. They never healed aesthetically through magic.  The scars would remain for months before they disappeared.  However, for battle, it would permit him to fight longer.  He changes his visage again, this time to Akos, and shouts, “You twots keep prattling on about fighting to the death.  We’ll give you the chance.”</blockquote>