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.
"Watch," Nelk commanded. His eyes closed and he
whispered something. Arryl felt a tingle in the air.
The elf's wound began to HEAL! First slowly, then
with ever-increasing speed, the deep cut closed and sealed
itself. A scab formed along the wound, but it only remained
a moment. In the matter of a breath, a thin scar was all that
was visible of the cut, yet Nelk was not finished. Even the
scar dwindled away, ever shrinking until the only evidence
of the self-inflicted injury was the blood that had stained
the elf's hand.
Nelk wiped his palm on the sleeve of his shirt. "You're
a cleric of Mishakal!" Arryl gasped.
"I serve the goddess."
"But ... your maimed arm ..."
"I chose not to heal myself in order to hide the fact that
the goddess still favors those who keep the true faith. Have
Brother Gurim perform the same miracle and see if he can
heal himself. You will find that the inquisitor seems to be
lacking somewhat in his faith, or perhaps his god lacks
faith in him." The elf eyed his companion. "Will you listen
to me now? Will you believe in me?"
Tremaine lowered his sword blade. "If I thought my
sentence just, I would still ignore you, but there is no
justice in Istar
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