The war priest carefully inspects both of the wounded. He murmurs over Zenithral's body for a moment, and then puts a hand on the half-elf's shoulder, flooding him with a powerful healing spell (Zen is healed 13 points). Zenithral's eyes open, and he finds himself feeling significantly better. Everard moves on to the woman.
He quietly lays a hand on her head for a few minutes, then says, "Her wounds are completely healed, but her body and spirit are so overtaxed that she will be dead by morning. It is good that you brought her to me." Everard awkwardly kneels next to the bed and begins chanting. A golden nimbus of light surrounds him and the woman. Still chanting, Everard holds out a hand to Accalia, who hands him a large diamond. He closes his gauntleted fist around the magical component, and when he opens his hand the diamond is gone, replaced with shining motes of light that spin gently in the air. The light grows brighter, and then seeps into the woman. As the party watches, some color returns to her face.
When the spell is ended, Everard stiffly stands up, his own face looking tired. "I have done what I can for her tonight. What she most needs now is rest, and a good meal when she wakes. I will be able to do more tomorrow." He looks at Zenithral and says, "You may spend the night here, if you wish." He turns to the others. "If you will excuse me, now, I have had a long day. I have much to think about." He limps off to his own room, leaving Ug, Al, Zen, Hrothgar, and Accalia in the room.
Rolls
Cure Wounds level 4 - (4d8+3)
(1711) + 3 = 13