The adrenaline had died out pretty quickly after the house had gone to shambles, and the group was left staring at a pile of rubble. Rubble that hid the man who had locked them in the house, and played mind games with them all, laughing at their terror. But Rhys was in some serious pain. The adrenaline had blocked out the pain from her arm, and now that she was aware, of her legs, because she had fallen so far and seemed to have twisted her ankle during one of the falls, but terror and adrenaline had kept the pain at bay.
The tattered group went to the Three Broomsticks, and went upstairs, once inside the room, Rhys collapsed into a chair and nursed her shoulder. Blood had stained her arm all the way down to her fingers, and pain was shooting down it, and she couldn't move it. Gingerly, Rhys took off her robes, and sat in a tank top and shorts that she had worn under her costume. She was pretty beat up, and had more bruises on her then she could believe. The flying debris had hit her pretty hard sometimes, and there were a few other gashes, but nothing like her arm. Rhys looked at the others and sighed. They were all heros in their own way that night, each had saved, and been saved from each other, heros and victims, all of them.
"Well that was a fun Halloween." she said lightly, trying to make a joke to lighten the situation.