OOC: yes, he is still very sick.
i only lent him some of my strength, i didn't heal him.
how he uses that strength is entirely up to you.
you could, for example, have him fall asleep and regain more energy now that he isn't unconscious.
it's entirely up to you

OOC: Umm, for your information, the army hasn't left yet. And besides that, the party will be leaving the army by going to a different direction, remember?

BiC:

Arthus sighed with relief as the pair returned at last. But where was Ravenwing? There were many questions to be asked, but one look at the condition of the pair told him that they were in no condition to do anything greater than lifting their fingers, much less talking. Thus, after much confering with his lieutanents, Arthus decided that the rest of the army will leave with the fleeing elves towards the borders, while Arthus and his companions will remain behind to wait for the pair to recuperate, and at the same time, if possible, persuade the remaining elves to leave before the horde attacked. By estimation, they had no more than three days before the dark lords could gather an undead army large enough to attack the town.

***********************************

It was later that night, when everyone had went to their beds, that Arthus' vision came to him.

Aeris leaned on her staff heavily, eyes wearily looking at the cracking ground below her. She heard Shuren collapse, and her heart collapsed with him. It was her idea to divert the enemy forces, which had seemingly done little for the knight's army. In her determined mind, she had allowed Wind and Shuren to join her, and now, Wind was dead, and Shuren close. If anyone was to die, Aeris most fervently hoped it would have been her, and not those who followed her. The poor cleric closed her eyes, and quietly whimpered "Oh dear god, what have I done?" before her injuries, fatiuge, and despair took over, and she felt weak. She knew now, the extend of Nezurahl's curse, and hated that foul beast with to equal extent. Aeris was dimly aware of her staff clattering to the ground mere moments before she collapsed into unconciousness.

((I agree with Arhra Newb, These are beyond what simple healing can do. As a dedicated cleric, my character can do nothing about her curse, and neither can anyone else other than Nezurahl.))

Shurne floats in bloody darkness. Everything is pain and moving or even thinking increases it. Though he does not know it, indeed he is barely aware of anything aside from his pain, he is suffering from magical backlash. It had been bad enough that he had tremendously overexerted himself both magical and physically. Normally when a mage tried to go too far beyond their resources they suffered backlash, their physical health being cannibalised as the magic earthed itself through their body. That Shuren had doen so untrained deepened the danger for he did not know how to lessen its impact and shield himself. Worse still his magical talents had not been awakened naturally but had been blasted open by another's hand. It meant that the links through which he could draw on power were raw and bloody, like a gaping wound rather than a natural channel. He could not center himself and his magic was bleeding into places it should not go.

Physically he's little better. There are dead people who look more alive than him. In addition to the tremendous strain the backlash has put on his body, there are also the wounds he suffered in battle and the lingering effects of the tiamath's poison. Added to this are the double burdens of lack of food and lack of sleep. Some sustenance needs to be put into him. The wounds are only half healed and any use of healing magic - which bolsters the bodies ability to heal itself - which risk putting to much of a demand on his resources which are already stretched to their limit and killing him outright.

Worse still, all of this has been compounded by how Shuren had managed to supress his injuries by sheer force of will. The tower of will he had forged had allowed him to get where he was and he would have probably died out in the artic tundra without it. But when it had come falling down, all it had contained had been unleashed at once and the shock alone had come within a hairsbreadth of killing him. His life teteers on a knife's edge.

OOC: As I said, not good. Even using healing magic on him risks killing him. In fact, due to the rawness of his magic, it would be unwise to use any magic on him. It could trigger something. He needs to be tended very carefully.

While the cleric had only been out for mere minutes, time passes strangely to the unconcious psyche. "Ugh..." Aeris groans. She is strong, mentally, and physically, and especially now, in her resolve to save her other charge. Fortunately, Ilgivan's pseudo healing had given her the strength to rise again. Unknown of the length of time she was unconcious, Aeris was grieved to see a large mass of confused people standing around Shuren. "They pretend, and know nothing... Why will noone do anything!?" Aeris thinks to herself, angry, and frustrated at the situation. She was, however, the most skilled, and perhaps, only healer in the camp. It would hurt, most grieviously, to tend to him, but Aeris did not care. Thrusting a finger toward two of the knights, she sternly commands, "You! Yes, You, set up a tent around him, immediately. He cannot be moved." The knights looked confused, and suprised, but Aeris' cold steel stare made them carry out the order with prodigious haste. The Phoenix Guard lent heavily on her staff, watching the work. She ordered for any surviving apothecary equiptment, and whatever improvised tools she could use. Shuren almost seemed to bleed magic, his mana flow ebbing and flowing far quicker and more chaotic than any Aeris had seen. Magic would likely kill him. A tear left her face, and she prayed she could save Shuren before it was too late. As the equiptment arrived, and the tent was set, Aeris swallowed her fear, and resolved to do her best...

((Can't risk moving him, especially by magical means. If the horde is to arrive before Aeris finishes, you'll have to leave them, or restrain her, because she won't leave Shuren willingly.))

Arthus knew not where he was. In one moment, he was sleeping in his personal tent back at the encampment his knights had set up outside the elven town, but then he found himself slowly drifting away, as if his spirit is being pulled - no, backened - by an unknown force in a distant land. In a matter of seconds, Arthus found himself floating, nay, flying through a mass of land before arriving to his destination - a dark and omninous cave where the stench of death runs thick. And in just that short moment, at the cave entrance, he thought he saw a pair of blazing, golden eyes glaring at him from deep within the cave, but his attention was immediately distracted as he saw what his vision has brought him to.

And with that, Arthus awoke from his fitful sleep with a start.

The Celestial Judgement.

OOC: Sorry about taking so long to reply. I've been having trouble deciding what to post.

Shuren struggles weakly in the drowning darkness. Down here he is hidden from the pain but there is something else that it hides him from. It is like floating in a sea of blood but dimly he realises that the seductive lure of letting go and allowing the darkness to claim him would be the easier of the two choices he is given. On one hand lies an end to pain and the other holds pain that seems almost insurmountable. But the second of the paths does not only hold the certainty of pain, but also the possibility of life. On the edge of thought, Shuren makes his choice. The bloody sea of darkness has an end and like a drowning diver he strives to reach its surface. He breaks free of the clinging darkness but then something else envelops him. Pain.

He thrashes as it touches him, razored ribbons brushing through him in red agony. Shuren tries to summon magic to him to aid him but it amplifies the pain and splinters his consciousness. There is no anchor and nothing is right, he is lost in a red haze of slashing crimson.

OOC: Basically Shuren's got nothing to tie him to reality. Phyiscally he'd be thrashing and he may unconsciously use magic. That would be very dangerous for him and he might see any use of magic on him as an attack.

OOC: Newb's missing again. :(

OOC2: BTW, just to clarify things(i didn't mention it in my previous posts), Arthus has taken a small band of knights along with him while the rest of the knights leave.

BiC:

Arthus rushed out of his tent as soon as he awoke, startling the pair of knights standing watch outside. What startled the knights more was that his sword, held on the paladin's hands, was glowing a bright golden glow, instead of the customary blue whenever there was a battle to be fought. Thinking that they were about to be attacked, the knights too, drew their swords and looked around nervously.

"Sheathe your weapons, my knights. There's no battle to be fought tonight." Arthus assured them. But even then, the knights did not comply, so fearful were they of being ambushed by a horde of nightmares.

"What has happened to your sword, my lord?" One finally asked, pointing at the flaring sword.

"I am not entirely sure." Arthus looked intently on his blade. He could feel his sword pulling him towards the north, but to where? Perhaps it was leading him towards another of the Judgements? That would be the best explanation, since it happened directly after his strange dream.

"Get our packs ready. We will leave at first light." Arthus bade his knights, who were still staring at his glowing sword with awe, and a little trepidation. They saluted, and left immediately for their duties, though they still looked back occasionally at the shining blade.

OOC: darn it! i posted something saying the mental thrashing of shuren was giving me a massive headache, but the server problems must have gotten rid of it.

IC: Ilgivan stumbled out of bed, the mental screams of Shuren lashed against his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly to any degree. Alemeria seemed to be affected too, as all he was able to manage was to flutter onto his shoulder before collapsing.

Ilgivan managed to make his way to where Shuren was, and looked in. He saw Shuren flailing randomly, changing back and forth in the process, while magical discharge sparked around him.

Ilgivan shook his head, and wandered off to find someone with a clearer mind who could help.

Aeris quickly set to work after she had the quiet and silence to work in. Taking a metal rod, she placed it in the fire outside, and began setting up incense to sanctify the tent. Shuren's case was a special one, and when he started thrashing uncontrollably, it wasn't particularly a bad thing. Although his old wounds reopened and let blood, his excess energy and mana burnt off the more he struggled. "I need to equalize his internal flow before I can do anything..." Aeris thought, rummaging in the bag of apothecary supplies the knights had provided. The supplies were basic, but Arthas was apparrently clever in issuing his first aid supplies, as there included a few tricks with which Aeris could work with. Removing a slightly magical glass decanter used for siphoning mana off of gems, the cleric improvised by wiring up a leeching needle, and inserting the device once Shuren had slowed in his struggling. In theroy, it should lessen his internal magical oversupply, but Aeris would need to carefully watch his mana, lest it draw too much, and kill him.