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OOC: Yes, I had the same idea.
Dark shapes, blurry, moved around him in a dizzy, but Therlion was relieved to know that those shapes are his men. On his knees in the dry mud, he pulled the dagger out, and winced in pain. He tried casting a spell to heal some of the damage, but, as he suspected, his magic was exhausted, like himself. He got up one one foot, with the other knee still in the mud, and took a breath. The world around him was getting muffled, but Therlion gripped for his conciousness firmly. I am alright. I am not hurt badly. I will recover. Kalam needs me, I must go to him." he encouraged himself, and got up. His face grimaced in pain, but he made a step forward, towards the tent.
[ 09-08-2004, 06:51 AM: Message edited by: Bozos of Bones ]
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