Susan Evensong Sun Aug 23, 2015 5:01 pm
Cyrril staggers forward from the daggers, and is even more wounded by the flames that seem to penetrate the spell defending him with no problem.
"How unkind, Ms. Azazel, whatever did I do to you?"
With a smirk he grabs her hand.
"Attacking me out of the blue like that, you must be stressed. Why don't you take a little trip to decompress?"
Azazel Charisma save!