[hr][hr][centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/ctoiNg6.png[/img][/centre][hr][hr]
Seeing Io's shield shatter and Hercules' club crack off her chin, Zev snatched a small grey twig from his component pouch and crushed in his right hand, making a swirling motion with his left and [abbr=Casting | Witch Bolt | Attack Roll: 17 + 5 = 22 | HIT]muttering an incantation under his breath[/abbr]. From the open palm of his extended right hand, a brilliant bolt of pure white energy shot across the alleyway and took Hercules in the chest, [abbr=Damage | 8]lifting him off of his feet and flipping over to land heavily on his back[/abbr]. For a half second, the searing line of lightning stayed attached to the fallen Hercules but like a man restraining a rabid dog, Zevemar whipped his hand back and the energy dissipated with a crackling discharge.

Having some experience both with the danger of reckless casting and healing (as much as two terms working part time at the medica wing of The Spire could teach you), Zevemar was pretty sure that Hercules was in a much worst state than how he'd left Achillis, who'd probably wake up in a few hours feeling awful but was in no real danger. The redhead, however, looked to be hovering in that space between definitely alive and definitely not.

"Uh... Nyke, was it? Hercules isn't in a good way, I didn't think I hit him that hard but if one of us doesn't see to him, he might get worse quickly." And glancing at the Elf and Half-Elf to his right, Zev realised another thing. "It, uhm, it also looks like you're outnumbered. So maybe time to give it up?"