Ssarak Dyreackthanose

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Ssarak leaned himself up against a nearby column, letting the head of his axe rest on the ground while he held lightly onto the end of its handle. He closed his eyes a moment and let out a deep breath, though he could already feel that he was about to get a headache. A good deal of fatigue came over him, though it was nothing some rest, and maybe a meal or two, could not fix. He was proud of his actions, however. For once in his life, he was saving lives instead of taking them. 

"Psychomancy can have many effects, not all of which are harmful. I would rather save a life than to take one." Ssarak said, opening his eyes to look at the Forest Elf. "As an Esyire, I can project the essence of my blood into a sort of breath attack. For other bloods, that might be fire, or lightning, or even shards of rock. For psychomancy, the effect is not quite so directly harmful. Mine in particular has a calming effect on the victim, along with other effects one would commonly associate with various types of drugs. It was, however, exhausting."