[hr][hr][h1][center][color=f26522]Azra Flametongue[/color][/center][/h1][hr][hr]
[color=f26522]"Aha! Excellent work everyone, we certainly showed them, did we not!"[/color] Azra twirled the hand from which he had shot the bolt of fire that had completely missed its target and blew the smoke from his fingertips, as if he had actually played a role in the fight that had just occurred. He was grinning from ear to ear. [color=f26522]"And look barely a scratch on us besides of course our dear friend the driver and... oh... oh dear..."[/color] 

His exuberant tone began to trail off as he made note of the prone form of their brave human warrior, sprawled on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. A crude arrow sprouted from the torn remains of one knee, a crimson gash had been cut across the powerful muscles of his throat, severing windpipe and arteries. Azra was by no means a medical man, but even he could see that his companion was not long for this world. Maybe now wasn't the time to celebrate.

[color=f26522]"Sh-shouldn't we do something?"[/color] He spoke in a small faltering voice, completely different to his usual bravado, his eyes busily darting between the other members of the party. The tortle was already busy healing the driver. Azra didn't know any healing magic, he didn't know if any of the others did either. [color=f26522]"We can't just let poor Ironhead, I mean Ironblood, I mean... whatever his fucking name is just die?! Can we?"[/color]

He jumped off the cart and walked over to where the warrior was bleeding out, dropping to one knee beside him, not caring how the blood stained his clothes. He reached out and took the dying man's hand.

[color=f26522]"Come on big man."[/color] He slapped at his cheek, trying to keep him concious. [color=f26522]"You'll pull through. Be right as rain in no time. Right guys? ...right?"[/color]

[hr]
[center][i][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/campaigns/826]Azra's Rolls[/url][/i][/center]