Snippet #1503703

A tiny bit of disgust welled up in Sarish's stomach as the dragon's bile and blood coated him. He let out of an audible moan of disgust, and just barely managed to prevent a small panic attack at the gore covering him. It wasn't necessarily the blood that he was afraid of, he just never liked the idea of being puked on by something that could probably swallow him whole. Above the feeling of disgust, however, was a little bit of relief that he would not have to fight the massive beast.

Duran feeling was quite the opposite. The gore meant nothing to him. He was out to kill, and only the thought that he would have another chance to take down a dragon of some kind in the near future was enough to stop him from going berserk. The instincts of his animal form were almost too strong to control, and he decided that it would be better just to let his own emotions settle for the time being. His hind legs began to lengthen, as he reared back and balanced on them. Slowly his human body reformed, shedding the coat of fur, blood, and gore as his gear began to reappear on his bare, pink flesh.

Sarish waved his hand over himself, and in a wave of glimmering light, the gore fell away, and he was left neat and tidy. It was not a very powerful spell, but it served its purpose well enough.

Duran limped over to the Wrath as signaled, with Sarish close behind him. It seemed that the injury he had sustained was closed thanks to his transformation, but the pain hadn't completely gone away. Talae made her presence known, and offered an antidote to the poison that had killed the dragon. Though he had some magical resistances to natural poisons and venoms, there was no doubt that a well-trained assassin's poison would quickly overwhelm him. He decided not to take any chances and graciously accepted the swig of antidote that Talae had offered. Duran definitely did not want to give first hand account at what a gruesome death the beast endured.

Pain and injury seemed to be the overwhelming theme as member after member of the Vanguard began to close in on their commander. Sarish looked for the other clerics to present themselves before offering his own services. They would probably be much more efficient healers than him, though he would easily do in a pinch. As Alistair joined the group, Sarish sighed and gave a cheesy smirk.

"I'll take a look at that for you, Alistair. What good is a harpy without his wings, anyway?" Sarish had probably stepped over the line with the last sentence, though there were probably more pressing matters for the harpy to think about. He replaced his maul on his back, and his hand began to glow as he slithered over to administer healing to the wounded wing.

Duran immediately rolled his eyes, recalling that Goma had not made her presence known for the entirety of the battle. He let loose a sharp whistle, ensuring that she would be along shortly. The druid then limped his way over to the beckoning Wrath, and waited for the commander to speak or give the next command.