The Principality of Valorium. [IC]

[Tyriq]

Jyo-lan

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Jyo-lan will simply move behind the cart (up one, left two) to try to conceal most of himself from harm while still being able to see the combat and maintain concentration on the butterflies.

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Caleun Tranil

Being attacked by two enemies at once hardly seemed to bother caleun, whose constant movement makes him a difficult target to pin down, and his hands working independently of each other easily block or turn aside the attacks. The buterflies, however, were stopping him from spotting any weak spots in his enemies, making his thin weapons far less effective. In an effort to regain the upper hand, Caleun backfliped away from both enemies and vaulted onto the wagon, [1] gaining height advantage and -hopefully- relief from the butterfly swarm. [2]

From his vantage point, Caleun strikes at the corporal, who is now at a disadvantage, both lower and being hampered by both the butterflies and the side of the wagon from effectively striking back at Caleun. [3]

Actions:

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[1] Caleun moves diagonally North-East, then jumps up to the wagon to the north, then moves along the length of the wagon west to engage the corporal
Jump - (1d20+7)[14]

[2] Not sure if Caleun actually gets away from the butterflies, but it is a good attempt from Caleun's perspective, i.e. he's probably almost to the limit of the spell, so by going north away from the melee and up he is going towards where he sees a clearing from the butterflies (if he got far enough, of course, is for DM Glyphic to decide)

[3] Attacks with rapier:
RapierHit - (1d20+8)[22] (includes blessing & height advantage & defensive fighting)
Will - (1d20+2)[20] (no idea of the DC, but Caleun is unlikely to shake it off on his own)
Concealment - (1d100)[68] (in case he is still blinded by the butterflies)
RapierDamage - (1d6+1)[6] (includes blessing. Not sure if height gives a bonus too)
SneakAttack - (2d6)[3] (very unlikely to be needed: as far as I can tell, attacking from concealment doesn't give sneak attack [Caleun is concealed from the point of view of the corporal, who is still butterfly'ed], but included just in case)

[Beschoren]

Tasntafaal

the elf tries to move away from the sargent, and jump to within the barn fences
(mocking, ironic tone, directed at the raging sargent)"blablabla my blades yadayadayada. just shut up"
he makes a dull face, shots his arrow at him as if bored
And shows his tongue to branis.

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tumble check:(1d20+11)[19] (moving out of branis treatned square)
atack:(1d20+9)[29]
damage:(1d8+3)[4]
includes "bless"
jump check:(1d20+15)[33](over fence)
initiative? I'm tired of waiting for soren, and I may not check this here tomorrow (1d20+4)[13]
hp29/AC20

[Beschoren]

Tasntafaal
gotcha!

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confirm critical:(1d20+9)[22]
extra damage (2d8+8)[10]
hp29/AC20

[/QUOTE]

[Miraqariftsky]

Soren Solaren

The paladin reels briefly from the sudden surge of butterflies rising from the dust. He takes a moment to admire their ethereal beauty, his higher senses and his memory serving to register the swarm as Jyo-lan's work.

Regaining his balance, Soren casts about, his mind briefly turning back to what little books on military strategy he had read back at Firefell's libraries. Assessing the situation as well as he could, he yells out, "Tanstafaal! Lead that bastard on a merry dance! Ca-ARGH!"

Suddenly, between the flashes of the myriad colours of Jyo'lan's conjuration, that far-farer's work, Soren sees the ruin wrought upon Gerald, Micheal and Thomas, valiant defenders of a once-pristine town. His heart heavy with sorrow, his veins afire with wrath, he makes up his mind and abandons the challenge issued to Branis and charges ahead at the foes right in front of him.

"Repent or perish!" He brings his sword to a mid-guard position, his right shoulder lowered, the heavy weapon held as if it were a lance. Aiming straight at the heart of the warrior wielding two strange weapons of wood and chain, whirling them in dizzying, bone-cracking arcs, Soren stops his charge but four feet from the foe, dips the sword's point low and then slashes it skyward, his right arm leading...

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(1d20+9)[18]
(2d6+4)[14]

[Glyphic]

As The Sargent flies away on Elven pursuit, Alpha Corporal takes chage with a vicious curse, "Those spirits in your head will lead you to Damnation, Brannis! (pointing at Private 2) Fluke! Bandage that man!" He trots a few paces northward, And his boot smashes the ground with his final step, "Earthen Spirit, Prosper!"

Quite a range to the north.. Just catching Tanstafaal's legs and ankles, the goat-munched grasses vigorously sprout, wrapping themselves around the barn, it's fence, natural fibers entangling all.

Private 2 Doesn't say a word, but kneels near his comrade, doing a patch-up job of the dying man's wounds; It looks just good enough.

Private 3 takes a step backward, surveying the horizon. Twice his bowstring twangs, as two more flaming arrows volley south, into the distance.. They fly nearly 700 feet, the arrow heads dangerously smoldering at the base of a silo..

The man wielding spear and shield (Private A) hardens his gaze, taking a moment to loosen his shield. "Clever, but cowards have no place on the battle field!" A blast of fire surges from his hand, tossed under a wagon, ripping into Jyo-lan's calf.

Blind with rage, Private C whips his weapons about, the butterflies about him absorbing blow after airy blow. As Soren's claymore pierces his breast, blod spews, scarlet droplets seeding the ground. The whirling warrior regains focus, but the only retaliation lands with a weak clank against Soren's armor.


"Bats; Butterflies!" The mageling Private "C" looks sallow, and a knot wells in his neck.. He attempts a few arcane gestures, before summoning bile.

"Your death is upon you. Feel the destruction of Thunt!" Shouts the Corporal with a Blue-rosebud on his shield (corporal 1). Safe from Caleun's Rapier, he concentrates and drops his Scimitar. An amorphous, blood-colored swell of magic surrounds his free hand, as he marches straight to Trevor, where his palm finds it's target, and the negative energy wracks Trevor's body..

Brannis clears the low fence with a routine leap, as he rushes straight for Tanstafaal. He spins his blade in defensive sweeps, whispering taunts, "I'll fry your ears and dust them with sugar.." "Elven bones are so weak because I personally crush every last one of them.." His steps bring him just close enough to Tanstafaal to slice at the air, and the blade reacts with restrained malice. Sargent Brannis's face seems to break and crack as a shattered mirror, reflecting some hidden darkness, "A Sargent for Twenty years, elf. I've passed up promotion, honors, and shoved my way into every assignment I could. All to hunt you now. To feel the rush of fresh spilled blood, in devotion to the warrior Thunt.. He screams, for your blood, your mother's blood, but we all felt his moan! He surges with power.. and all desires turn to finishing this pissant mission and seek his manifestation.."

Smoke puffs from the barn north of the commons; something inside has caught fire.

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Going to make some rolls to save time.

Tanstafaal: Reflex vs entangle - (1d20+8)[10]
I rolled separately. Elf bane weapons hurt. 19 points of damage.
Damage to Trevor - (2d8+3)[14] [Concentration check made already, up to 13 damage]

Damage to Jyo-lan - (2d8)[6]
Concentration - (1d20+7)[12]

Edit: Trevor! You take 1 more damage. He has a caster level of 4, not 3. required for his class to cast inflict moderate.

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Caleun Tranil

Leaving so soon? You'll soon discover the folly of leaving your back open to my blade, thought Caleun as he vaulted off the wagon, and easily catching up to the corporal, busy with Trevor.

RapierAttack - (1d20+7)[21]
RapierDamage - (1d6+1)[6]
SneakAttack - (2d6)[11]

[Miraqariftsky]

Soren Solaren

The whirling nunchaku clanks against Soren's breastplate, hardly fazing the paladin. With narrowed eyes and wavering stance he half-regrets such a grievous blow against someone who has not yet sold his soul to the forces of darkness.

Suddenly, he senses an upsurge of abyssal energies. The fiendish aura of one of the corporals blazes with a black flame as he sends his cold, soul-sapping fire straight at Trevor's heart.

Sorcerer though the man may be, Soren knows his comrade's heart is in the right place. Without hesitating, he turns his back on the warrior he'd just wounded and bounds onto the empty cart between him and the conjurer of darkness.

The sword in his hands scintillates in the searing sunlight, slashing down in a heavy overhead blow. Landing with a heavy bound on the oaken planks and a grateful sigh that the cart's brake lever was set down, he completes his attack's arc, grunting out, "Face me, you fiend!"

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(1d20+11)[13] First Smite
(1d20+11)[16] Crit check
(2d6+8)[18] Smite

Yuck. That's probably wasted... and so I take the liberty of describing the craptastic shot...

The sword's point screams through the hot air but the aim is turned awry by a living mirage of shadows emanating from the strange rose-emblazoned shield... The foeman's form blurs as he steps away from the ill-fated juggernaut with seemingly effortless ease as the claymore's head digs into the dirt...

[Duke of URL]

Trevor

Concentration broken, and weakened by the spell, Trevor backs up slightly and lets loose with a blast of eldritch energy.

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5' step away from the corporal, Attack - (1d20+6)[21] (ranged touch), Damage - (2d6)[7]

[Beschoren]

Tasntafaal

knowing he had better get out of there as soon as he can, Tanstafaal recognizes the though spot he's in. Still, there's a card in the sleeve.
(mocking again)"Yeah, whatever." he says, picking a potion from his belt and driking it, just before vanishing from sight

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I take the full defense (5 ranks in tumble = +6AC), making it AC 23 and drink my only invisibility potion (3 minutes duration). I keep the bow in the left hand and draw a trowing axe (no A.O.A. since ("oooh!") I'm invisible!)

[Tyriq]

Jyo-lan

Jyo-lan looks down at his leg wound. Fire. Not long ago, a burn like this would have made him panic, cry out, and forget his role as a healer. Today, though, he remembers one of his favorite mantras from the Order... How many torches would you take to burn the ocean?

Satisfied, Jyo-lan gently casts his healing spell.

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Cure Light Wounds: (1d8+5)[10]

Staying put behind the wagon...

[Glyphic]

Bounding away from the chucking warrior, Soren reveals a split second of chance. A flash of wood and chain rattles..


Haggard and pierced, Corporal Numeric turns aside Soren's blow. He looks ready to yield to his wounds, but he eyes twinkle with some dark enjoyment. "Worm, Fluke! I'm being raked across coals; Aid me, Maggots!" He shouts, as he takes a defensive step. He places his shield between himself and Trevor, as he shouts dark words..

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5-ft step, followed by a normal casting of Sound burst, targeting Caleun and Soren. He provokes from Trevor (I'm assuming Trevor takes it). If you fail sound burst's save, you are stunned.
trevor's AoO - (1d20+4)[6]
Concentration - (1d20+8)[26]
soundburst - (1d8)[4]
Caleun's save - (1d20+2)[20]
[rol=Soren's save]1d20+7[/roll]

"Aid your Corporal, Fluke! Brannis will find his own resolve!" Corporal Aplha moves closer, clasping his hand on the second Private, "Lend this man your might, Earthen spirit." A trickling stream of green energies sloshes over Private two, as his arms burst with new found strength.

Private A trots north to get a better view of Jyo-lan, readying his spear and shield along the way, "Watch yourself! This next one is sure to hurt, Coward!"

Wounded but persistent, Private B avoids Soren's blade, moving to cut off Trevor's retreat, "Now No, No Now! Pitched and tarred with blood, we've no where to run!"

Private C recovers his lunch, and moves to a more protected area. "Earth spirit? How dull, Corporal! Find True strength in the power of Magic!" With that, private 2 begins to grow, reaching nearly double his former stature..

(private 2) The now-giant warrior hefts his Longer-than-normal sword, looking at the battle field from a new perspective, "This is your last chance! Stay your blades and there might be hope for you!" He lifts his sword, to strike at Caleun..

The Longbow man cheerily disregards the battle, and breaks into a run; heading to get a better shot at more farms, crops, and livestock..

Brannis spits at his feet, "Blasted Corporal can't aim right! I've still got you within reach, Prepare to die, elf-fiend!"

Bethany and Leen can bee seen near the barn to the north. Bethany clutches her talons, as a faint drizzle of water appears above the burning barn. Leen stands near her, keeping her eyes locked on the firefight. Her feet constantly scratch at the dirt, appearing hesitant or anxious.

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Private B's AoO - (1d20+6)[24]
damage - (1d6+2)[7]
Private A's attack - (1d20+5)[20]
damage - (2d6+4)[10]

(This occurs if Tanstafaal does not change his action)
Brannis's AoO - (1d20+7)[18]
damage - (2d4+3)[6]
Bane - (2d6)[6]

If He's invisible...Miss on a 1(of 1d2)
concealment - (1d2)[1]
Brannis's attack - (1d20+7)[18]
damage - (2d4+3)[10]
Bane - (2d6)[8]

Current Map!

[Duke of URL]

Trevor

Cornered, the Warlock positions himself slightly, adopts a defensive posture, and tries to finish off the spell-slinging corporal. "A little help would be appreciated over here!"

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5' step due west.

Invoking defensively Concentration - (1d20+8)[16] vs. DC 15

If successful, Attack - (1d20+6)[8] ranged touch, Damage - (2d6)[9]

[Glyphic]

The ghostly, black-flamed longsword takes another strike at Trevor, but doesn't interrupt his castings.

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I forgot about the spiritual weapon :p
attack - (1d20+6)[20]
damage - (1d8+1)[8]

It's force damage. No DR.

[Miraqariftsky]

Soren Solaren

The sun glints on Soren's armour. Harsh heat from the heavens shimmers off the edges and curves of his leaves of steel. A faint halo of fire burns around the edges of his sword.

His burning legs pump as he leaps from the cart. His sword is held low and to the left as he lunges at the spellcasting corporal. Soren takes a few short steps forward and to the right, bringing his sword high and then slashing across in a mighty horizontal arc, growling, "Burn, O Corrupted One!"

The spectral sword slashes out again at Trevor, the insubstantial blade drawing substantial blood. From the corner of his eye of flesh, Soren sees the suffering. From the corner of the eyes of his soul he sees the sin. Huffing from the exertion of his own battle, he calls out, "A few more moments! Hold steady, comrade! Pu'ur's light shall heal ye, worry not!"

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Two-point Power Attack against Corporal Numeric
(1d20+8)[24]
(1d20+8)[10]
(2d6+12)[23]

[Tyriq]

Jyo-lan

Hearing Trevor's cry for aid, and disappointed with Soren's penchant for killing instead of healing, Jyo-lan searches for a clear path through the chaos. Fortunately, the path seems to take him directly away from bloodthirsty little man with the pokey. He dashes across the path in a flutter of white robes, one hand still on his Order's sacred beads. He reaches out for Trevor's shoulder with a calming, white warmth.

He calls to Soren and Caelun: "Stand tall, there's another one on my heels..."

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Cure Moderate Wounds for Trevor: (2d8+6)[14]

Please maneuver Jyolan somewhere between/near Caelun and Trevor, depending on where Trevor ends up after his 5' step.

[Beschoren]

Tasntafaal

bleeding invisible blood, the elf tries to escape those dammed roots and herbs

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the odds are not nice... escape artist DC 20 (1d20+3)[14]
sorry for the lame post, I'm pretty busy

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Caleun Tranil

Caleun instinctively jumped out of the way of the huge sword coming his way, and danced around the attack. Damn. Big guy, he thinks, But lumbering. He's leaving himself open. Without taking his eyes of him, and weaving to make himself a more difficult target, he shouts towards his back, "Soren, Trevor, I'll keep this guy busy. Try to stop the others from surrounding us, or we'll be in trouble!"

Then, in a quick movement, Caleun slided under the arm of his huge adversary and, closing up the distance,[1] started waving both his weapons in a tight pattern that, while mostly defensive, still allowed him to strike a few times.[2]

"Try to wrap up soon back there, Soren. I may need help bringing these guys down," then, mostly to himself, he repeated the old dwarven mantra, "When their arms are higher than your head, their crotch is level with your teeth"[3]

Actions:

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[1] 5 foot step to the north-west, placing Caleun next to the wagon and diagonally from the big guy.
[2] Full attack fighting defensively:
RapierToHit - (1d20+3)[22]
CinquedeaToHit - (1d20+3)[16]
RapierDamage - (1d6+1)[6]
CinquedeaDamage - (1d6+1)[2]

[3] Tip of the hat to Terry Pratchett.

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Critical hit with the rapier (range is 18-20, rolled a 19):
ConfirmCritical - (1d20+3)[10]
CriticalDamage - (1d6+1)[6]

[Glyphic]

Private B and Private C continue to seep lifeblood fro tiny bat bites, but they ber the pain, as their clothes and armor soak crimson blood.

The disembodied longsword floating near Trevor persists despite it's summoner being little more than a swath of organs and crushed bone. It sweeps low at Trevor's shins before slicing upward.

Private A rounds the edges of the wagon, his eyes squinting before he raises his loose shield to obscuring the morning light. From his fingertips spring Magic missiles, impacting Caleun.

Private B treads in a circle around your group, finding his place behind Jyo-lan He propells himself into the air as he shouts, "Heel to my heel!". With a showy display of acrobatics, he launches his foot at Jyo-lan's head.

Private C moves to a precarious position between cart and Giant, a grave look of concern on his face. He aims his staff forward, bracing the butt with his foot. Vapor pulls itself together, before it launches through your ranks as a scalding Jet of steam.

Private 2 steps forward, and sees his opening. He thrusts with vicious intent, aiming for Jyo-lan's unprotected flank, "You force my sword!"

Corporal A Chides, while reaching out with a hand engulfed in gree, "Fluke! They afford no mercy; rend their flesh in name of the Prince!" As the touch is delivered, Private two's wounds close, and he is renewed.

Brannis contorts his face, "Cunning, but Thunt will see you dead!"

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Spiritual Weapon - (1d20+6)[20]
damage - (1d8+1)[6]

Magic Missile at Caleun - (2d4+2)[7]

PrivateB, stunning first at Jyolan - (1d20+6)[7] Dc 14
damage - (1d6+2)[5]

Jet of steam - (3d4)[7]Reflex 14

Private A - (1d20+7)[20] Vs Jyolan, flanking.
damage - (2d4+4)[6]

Brannis
concealment - (1d2)[2]
attack - (1d20+7)[26]
damage - (2d4+3)[9]
bane - (2d6)[11]

(Uh.. yeah. He doesn't Crit. :p)

[Duke of URL]

Trevor

Trying to maintain his focus in spite of the disembodied weapon, Trevor once again summons a dangerous distraction for his enemies.

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Summon swarm again, this time spiders, covering the area that includes both corporal A and private 2.

[Glyphic]

This occurs before your teams actions.

Leen's claws rake the ground, before she rushing at Private A in a staggered hustle, but reaches him after he looses his missiles. She gibbers short, coarse words in Giant before her maw snaps down on the unprepared man. Leen manages to catch Bethany off-guard as well, whom stands for a few moments. Bethany's faces creases, her eyes crossing minutely. She follows her sister, lending the aid of her God-spirit.

Leen's eyelids rouse as Bethany gives her a droplet of healing

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Leen's attack (1d20+2)[4]
damage - (1d4+2)[3]
Bethany casts cure minor wounds to remove fatigue.

[Miraqariftsky]

Soren Solaren

The claymore comes free of the summoner's steaming corpse, its blade dripping gore. Soren shakes his head as the flame on his sword sputters when he lifts it against the towering hulk looming in from the left. He says to him as he points his blade in their general direction. "Stand down now. Repent or perish. I give you this one last warning. There is still a chance for redemption..."

Suddenly, he hears Pu'ur's voice warning him of foul magicks afoot. Even as the sorcerer summons the scalding serpent of steam that shoots forth from nothingness, searing through the air, Soren throws himself to the side, narrowly missing getting flash-broiled.

The gigantic warrior then then thrusts with his massive blade, the point seeking Jyo-lan's virtuous heart. This decides the matter for Soren and he rushes forward at the towering swordsman. The paladin spins his sword in two arcs when he reaches the foe, one low and the other high, aiming for the shins or the gut. "Gyeeerraaa, yarr yotunstrag!"

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Power Attacking the Big Guy...
(1d20+5)[14]
(1d20+5)[9]
(2d6+8)[14]

[Grey_Wolf_c]

Caleun Tranil

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleun watches the steam leave the hands of the warrior. Using the giant knee in front of him, Caleun springs back, clear of the heated jet, but as he lands his back explodes in pain as he is hit by two blasts of magic. Loosing his balance, Caleun makes the best of it and goes into a tight backwards roll followed by a flip-flop that places him next to the magician.

"You aren't going to have the chance of doing that again, bastard!" he shouts, as he strikes, hoping that the guy is too busy with Leem to properly defend himself.

Actions:
Tumble his way to private A's west side, flanking him
TumbleVsBigGuy - (1d20+11)[21] (DC 15)
TumbleVsPrivateA - (1d20+11)[28] (DC 17)

Attacking defensively, flanking
RapierToHit - (1d20+7)[18]
RapierDamage - (1d6+1)[6]
SneakAttack - (2d6)[6]

[Beschoren]

Tanstafaal

What th..

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stalibity check (1 on 10)(1d10)[7]
I'm bleading at -3, prone, entagled, far away, in front of a manic with a elven-killing large blade... I don't thinks it's possible to save me :(

[Glyphic]

The Flame members will continue to act after Jyo-lan, but in the mean time..

Leen shakes the weariness from her bones, and flares her amber eyes. The Private 'A' looses a pained cry as Caleun plunges his rapier into his side. Leen quickly encroaches, her claws and maw seeking blood.

Bethany scuttles forward, her movements cautious and amateurish as she strikes at Private B.

From the ground-level of the mostly extinguished barn, someone a slender cylinder of black-red energy at Sargent Brannis.

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Leen's attacks: Claw, claw, bite.
claw - (1d20+3)[23]
claw - (1d20+3)[5]
bite - (1d20-1)[6]
damage - (1d4+2)[5]
damage - (1d4+2)[3]
damage - (1d4+1)[4]

Bethany, Same routine.
claw - (1d20+0)[19]
claw - (1d20+0)[8]
bite - (1d20-2)[16]
damage - (1d4)[1]
damage - (1d4)[1]
damage - (1d4)[4]

Unknown, ray.
(1d20+2)[5]
(1d6)[4]

Swarm damage
(1d6)[1]

[Glyphic]

Private 2 weathers Soren's blow, but his entire bulk shakes as the claymore slashes past his shield and into his flesh. He staggers back, and finds his legs assaulted by spider after spider. He remains on his feet, but his faces is colored red and purple from strain.

Private 'A' manages to moan "Hork!" before his body fails him. He collapses to the dewy ground. Opposite Caleun, Leen stands with a sizable chunk of Private A's thigh in her claw.

Private B, unable to regain his balance after his jumping kick, finds Bethany's claw and teeth in his backside. He begins to laugh, cackling like a hedonistic imp, "You have not brooouuuk...". His still bleeding bat bites provide the last bit of pain for him to succumb to unconsciousness.

[Glyphic]

OOC: Tyriq; I am not posting out of animosity or with negative intent; I sternly believe that the game needs to keep moving however. You're welcome to take the missed turns action. This combat is wrapping up, however.
Edit: I want it to be known that I did not 'fudge' these last few Private's HPs. You were -that- close to downing them, and just needed a little help.


Private 2 coughs, a trickle of blood spilling down his chin. He throws his blade down to Soren's feet, the dust covering the fresh scarlet blood that stains it's iron. The Private then throws himself on his admittedly large knees, sputtering, "I yield! Stay your blade, please!"

The last standing corporal shakes off the spiders, but one pinches his calf and injects it's debilitating poison. He gives a furious glance at the surrendering Private, before kicking up dust as he heads west across the Commons, "Fall back! Leave the traitors to endure the hex and burns that will tear at their bones."

Private 'c' abides his corporal's orders, but not before releasing a minor jet of steam. It sails off at nothing in particular. He then hustles to catch the retreat.

Brannis's eyes gleam, turning bright as lit coals. His muscles ripple underneath his mail, and he yanks himself free of all that constrains him. He smacks the flat of his blade in his left palm, as he marches into the barn, "Think you can save your 'friend', little child? I'll be the first to reward your Honor!"

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Fortitude saves.
Private 2
(1d20+3)[7]
Corporal 'A'.
(1d20+4)[19]

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Extra d20's
Order of use: Private C, Brannis, extras.
(1d20)[3]-ray of frost
(1d20)[20]-break entangle
(1d20)[9]-spider poison fort
(1d20)[9]-spider poison fort
(1d20)[5]
(1d20)[2]

[Beschoren]

Tantafaal

...head...hurts...

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-4. stabilazes on 1(1d10)[4]

[Miraqariftsky]

"Repent and you live" Soren says curtly as he kicks his foe's sword away from him. Passing him by, the faintest surge of healing touches the vanquished man, Pu'ur's grace trying to close the wounds.

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Lay on Hands, one point

"Forward, comrades!" he yells as he charges across the commons, running for the beleaguered Tanstafaal.

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Lay on 11 points of healing on Tanstafaal.