Voltaire
Voltaire seldom slept anymore – it wasn’t that he didn’t try, but more often, it was the nightmares that kept him awake. Just as he’d start to fall asleep, he’d see again in his mind’s eye, the fateful moment that had damned him. He’d feel the weight of the crystal in his grasp, the way it curved and held a jagged edge, the way it plunged so deeply into the flesh and then the heart. He’d see the shock – the whites of his eyes at the sudden and unexpected betrayal – smell the sanguine copper of blood on the fresh snow, and the chill of the brisk winter air as it brushed away the trails of adrenaline.
He stirred as the sound of wings clattered in the distance – flinched as the sound of claws scraped against the sandstone. It didn’t take long for the blue stag to know something was amiss, and before his restless mind could process it completely, the cry of his king startled him into action. He wasted little time, knowing that in times like these, all hands were needed (even the hands of a healer). Dread filled the beast as he weaved down the narrow halls toward the open, finding the teryr and his young, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of such a beast.
Maxence was already there, already standing to fight against the terrible creature. He wasted little time in playing the aggressor, even as Voltaire hesitated for a moment. The crystal-horned stallion was nothing as a fighter – his trials as a youth had proved such things, and he’d washed out and become a lesser citizen in the eyes of his herd – a healer, who first served in battle by carrying water and sustenance to the fighters… and later, had learned the healing arts, slowly but over time. This situation was different though, and as Voltaire looked around, he had to wonder if the others had heard or would come.
He could not stand idly by as his king fended off this great beast alone, so, healer or not, Voltaire rushed toward the scaled demon, wielding his crystal horn like a sword as he stabbed toward the soft underbelly of the teryr.
Character: Voltaire
Health: 17 health + 10 experience + 5 day court bonus = 32
Attack: 2 (pitiful I know… he’s not a fighter, but he’s apparently a good punching bag!)
He stirred as the sound of wings clattered in the distance – flinched as the sound of claws scraped against the sandstone. It didn’t take long for the blue stag to know something was amiss, and before his restless mind could process it completely, the cry of his king startled him into action. He wasted little time, knowing that in times like these, all hands were needed (even the hands of a healer). Dread filled the beast as he weaved down the narrow halls toward the open, finding the teryr and his young, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of such a beast.
Maxence was already there, already standing to fight against the terrible creature. He wasted little time in playing the aggressor, even as Voltaire hesitated for a moment. The crystal-horned stallion was nothing as a fighter – his trials as a youth had proved such things, and he’d washed out and become a lesser citizen in the eyes of his herd – a healer, who first served in battle by carrying water and sustenance to the fighters… and later, had learned the healing arts, slowly but over time. This situation was different though, and as Voltaire looked around, he had to wonder if the others had heard or would come.
He could not stand idly by as his king fended off this great beast alone, so, healer or not, Voltaire rushed toward the scaled demon, wielding his crystal horn like a sword as he stabbed toward the soft underbelly of the teryr.
Character: Voltaire
Health: 17 health + 10 experience + 5 day court bonus = 32
Attack: 2 (pitiful I know… he’s not a fighter, but he’s apparently a good punching bag!)
Day Court Caretaker
