(Actually, I rolled the last two turn attempts for you, but you rolled better than I did.)

"I am fine, Audric," Kalan says, though his shaking voice seems to belie that statement. "I would, however, appreciate it if you untied my wrists." The spirit is (hopefully) gone, though you can all feel the remains of its presence. The sensation is about as pleasant as the idea of another wade through the sewers.

Meanwhile, blood continues to pour out of Paral's palms and chest. The rope binding him is stained red with blood that seems a shade too bright.