[H2][color=#9cb6c3][right]Solomon Sparrow[/right][/color][/H2]
[right][b][color=#9cb6c3]Location: [/color][/b] Fanghorn, Kindeance [/right]
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	Solomon continued to speak, but briefly with the dead within the keep’s ground floor. Many did not know of what he was speaking of, either playing dumb, or genuine ignorance. It didn’t matter too much though, as soon the shadows and their speed found the deceased mages in question. Solomon stood as straight as his old bones would allow, audible cracks announced to the world the condition of his age. Solomon laid his hands together, concentrating upon the dead his shadows located. Black energy laced with silvery wisps began to flow from the closed pages of the large tome near at his back. The coiled around his torso and arms, condensing between his palms. Then it dripped from his hands towards the ground, sinking into the soil below out of sight as the energy crept through all matter of cracks and crevices to seek out the mages.

	While Solomon was more vulnerable in this state, especially since there was some distance between him and his target, he let Petra keep watch. She turned to face the necromancer she was bound to with disdain, but otherwise, kept a closer watch to the storm outside. It was lessening, or to better say, it was focusing more towards the sky. Though the hail still devastated the fragile infrastructure of the village remains. Petra witnessed the concentration of attacks from her force rays, Jazdia’s arrows, and the storm itself perpetuated by Cedar unwillingly.

	Then the keep shook. Dust and debris raining down from above, timber cracking, and any glass shattering. The tall bean stalk swayed over the garrison, losing most of the leaves that grew around. It would have surely been blown over had a majority of its base had not been secured the keep itself. Similarly, it might have been its roots and vines that might have held it together. Despite the devastation that expanded outside, the silence from such cataclysm was just as deafening. No rain nor hail spoke and the wind ceased for just that moment. Then the silence was broken. Stone chips clattered over the ground and across the wooden surfaces of the remaining furniture. Water droplets dripped down from the floors above. Just as the explosion ceased, the weather began to clear. Petra stepped back from the doorway as the spectral image of Asevor’s mage floated in. 

	Solomon let his hands fall, as he turned his entire body to face to newly raised undead. There was some confusion on it’s face, but Solomon didn’t need his understanding, nor his voice. The ghostly raised mage had one job, and that was to unlock the door to the box, halt the timer if possible, and then simply dissipate afterward free to fall to whatever afterlife awaited him.

	“Petra, you will escort the prince down once the prince is freed. No more, no less.”

	With both Petra and the ghost away to the upper floors, Solomon knelt down next to the hunter, Reinhold. He was badly hurt, fading in and out of unconsciousness. He reached under his robes, sifting through the cloth until his hand revealed a leather pouch and roll. Broken shards of glass could be heard. A shame that he didn’t take better precaution when he worked Violet’s harsh screams. Luckily, the medicines he needed were not among the mixed chemicals in glass vials. Neither were his pain relieving salves. However, but the end of his treatments, he was going to need to replenish. Perhaps he could get Cedar to help him grow the herbs he needed.

	Solomon started bandaging the worst of Reinhold’s wounds and cleaning out the dirt and grim. He was mostly finished when Cedar crawled in. He looked terrible, even though Solomon knew not much of the care for a bear. Even so, Solomon was going to try. Applying pain relief and accessing the extent of the damage was going to be hard with all the fur, though.

	“Jazdia, Yvonne. In my pouch there is one last container of some pain salve, medicated ointment to promote healing, and some bandages. Take the canteen and clean your wounds with the water. Patch what you can, and where you cannot, I will tend to you. Allow me to see what I can do for Cedar first.” Solomon shuffled over the his bear friend. He was covered in mud, and was obviously exhausted. Asevor as well as the storm had done a number on him. Solomon wanted to at least make sure he was stable. He had to endure more than most in this conflict.

	“Jazdia. I will not accept your nonchalant behavior. Please take care of yourself, keep yourself rested. There is no further need to exert. Stay here. Petra should be escorting the prince down shortly.”