Godsdamned fool. Arathea danced around Seleniel’s shield to slice at the once-ranger. The mage hissed in frustration at the blind conditioning the bladesinger exhibited more and more. The assaults on her doctrine had force Arathea deeper into its grasp…. to Speaker and sword. A good soldier. Seleniniel let the useless shield dissipate as the group hacked the dead flesh back to inanimacy. The creeping tendrils held her gaze. Something was still alive in there… she reached for tallow, began to work it with the heat of her palm, when Arathea interrupted...

“I don't need you to save me, when we finally confront the man who did this I need you to fight.”

The inhale Seleniniel had meant to be calming flared her nostrils as she whipped her head to face the bladesinger and spat “And I need you, Arathea of House Ondolithe, to learn the difference between a soldier and a leader!” She jammed the tallow into the pocketed iron and sulfur, crushed them together with an angry somatic jab in the bladesinger’s direction. “Ruivë.” [[casts flaming sphere, centered on the fallen undead ranger]]

The fire that sprang to consume the corrupted ranger was close enough to heat the bladesinger’s armor. Seleniniel did not care. She continued, “One thinks. The other is just a tool of bone and sinew.”

The mage turned to the fae and the healers, faces half-lit in flickering orange from the undulating flame, still fussing over the doomed ranger. “Work fast, or let me put an end to it.” She nodded towards the mushroom circle. “The longer you spend trying to save one, the more likely you waste the lives of others.” Her hand stretched towards the flaming sphere, ready to do what was needed if the others would simply get out of her way.