The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
Among Allies
The mess hall was a spacious, open series of tents surrounded by cookfires. The camp I had stayed in before left cooking up to each squad, yet that must have been too inefficient for this many soldiers. A large, pot-bellied man stood surveying the gathered line of soldiers, shouting orders and smacking heads with his ladle whenever one got out of line.
Most soldiers returned to their tents to eat or sat on the ground around the mess hall. But as we approached, Sarra waved us over to one of the few tables beneath the shade of the canvas. They must have been reserved for officers because a few low-ranking captains were glaring at the fourth-level mage, disgruntled with being displaced. However, their expressions changed the moment they caught sight of us, and they sharply saluted before leaving without further complaint.
"Ah, there's the wolf!"