Master Sigurd Waite

His crossbow bolt lost in the branches, Sigurd sat still. He stared in awe at the thing above them. His scholarly facade was gone, and replaced with the terror of a child on a thundering night.

He had never seen anything like this.

Mud squelching beneath him, he slowly climbs to his feet. The crossbow falls and disappears among the litter of bygone battles. His claw bumps the owl-tipped cane sticking out of the ground.

He regards it as if he had never seen it before.

His good hand reaches for the owl... with an oiled shhck, he draws the dirk concealed inside the cane. Holding it in his left hand he stares at the villagers mounting their charge. Pieter looks heroic leaping over the brambles and the straw starts to catch. Sigurd gulps.

He sees Mils astride his horse, similarly entranced. Something in him gets angry.

There will come a time, Magister Severus had said, When your commission requires you to go to war against the Enemy. This is your only destiny, the entire purpose why you are not burnt to ash.

You will answer this call without hesitation, without question, without a moment's pause. The Emperor requires it.

Sigurd stalks toward the battle scene. The dirk trembles in his hand. He is not a battle mage... he's never seen a battle, even from a distance. Till today.

Stay back and use your spells, Waite.

But they're tainted... they're... it's not safe. We learned that.

Gotta join the fray.

He stops. He can't do it. He can't walk under those branches... shaking, he starts to chant.

Spoiler
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Half action: move
Half action: cast

Magic Dart. This time, not at the main tree but at the entangling branches. He'll prioritize saving Hans, the only villager who's risked himself to help Sigurd (however reluctantly). If Hans doesn't need saving he'll aim for whoever else does. Pieter and other PCs top the list.

(1d10)[1] and (1d10)[9] vs 6
evil die (1d10)[5]
damage (1d10+4)[12]

Fury if needed (1d100)[89]
(1d10)[1](1d10)[9](1d10)[6](1d10)[8]



Indigo stays some distance behind the burn team. She has no particular death wish, but doesn't mind fighting; she awaits her old friend's command.