Calen Damora
Human Wizard 3
AC: 10 HP: 17/17
Conditions: Exhausted 1
Concentration: none

Calen almost doesn't believe his eyes when the goblins collapse unconscious. It...actually worked? "Yes!" He punches the air.

The moment is rather broken, however, by an inhuman shriek coming from...somewhere next to him? Suddenly fearing an ambush, Calen whirls to see...Shalar. Or...is it? He catches a glimpse of antlers, claws, and too many teeth before the thing that's somehow still unmistakably her leaps what must be a dozen feet toward a hulking bugbear he hadn't spotted. There's blood....

When he was a boy, his father used to make him come hunting. He always hated it, and the worst part was watching the hounds tear into the quarry. It made him sick, but for some reason, he could never seem to look away. Now, all of a sudden, Calen would swear he's twelve years old again.

He stands there transfixed, hardly noticing that the battle is over.