THE FINAL THROWDOWN: EVERYONE
The skeletons began to claw their way to the surface, but the priest would not allow for these violations against God to continue. Chanting hastily under his breath, he sent forth waves of Holy against the rising undead. But that was as far as Amos would go: he knew his duty was not to fight against the opponents but to offer what support he could to his comrades. It was with herculean restraint that he drew back. Despite his wishes, words of Faram's anger did not leave his mouth. Instead, the priest extolled of the Lord's unending mercy. The white magicks of Regen swept the party, a balm for the wounds just sustained and for those yet to come.
And then verse became malleable, changed form—Amos began the incantation for Repose, his eyes seeking the dragoon's figure in the haze of action. His prayers were swift to take effect, for immediately did the dragoon begin to falter. Perhaps it was not much, but—
Amos put his faith in his comrades, hoping against hope that one of them would pull through in the sliver of time that his magicks had allowed them.