The moment her fingers wrapped around his ankle, he let out an involuntary yelp. To be perfectly honest, he had suspected that she was dead. Yet there she was, grabbing his ankle. He had just barely regained control of his nerves (and stomach) when Rael dropped down next to her. "I..." He swallowed harshly and brought the back of his hand up to wipe his brow. "...I certainly hope so." His staff was pulled from his back as he nodded to Tessa. "Be careful."
His staff was laid expertly between himself and the dalish woman. "She said something of 'the revengers.' And you know, it's odd that she was attacked... everyone else so far has been human." As he spoke, he expertly plucked debris and torn clothing from her wounds. This strange ability had overtaken him; he had gone from the small boy who revisted the evening's cheese whilst on the battlefield to the young man who observed and treated the woman's wounds without batting an eyelash. He was clearly in his element. "The drunkards said it was the dalish doing this. And yet we've got one here who has been attacked. Surely they wouldn't take out their own people."
He looked at Rael thoughtfully, as if ready to say something more, but shook his head instead. Attention returned to the woman, his hands pressed against her wounds. Magic flowed from his body, through his fingertips and into her skin. Around the woman, golden flecks filled the air like shooting stars. And in return, his own light seemed to dim. "For You are the fire at the heart of the world," he said in whispered prayer, " and comfort is only Yours to give."
3d6+4 = [6,3,5,4] = (18) Roll (Successful)
3d6 = [1,5,6] = (12) Points