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
Heroes
I stared at the small leather pouch in my hand, slowly testing its weight. Soltair was always going on about loot and drops, and it was surprising to find it was actually just money. Supposedly, the party also collected other items of value with the intent to sell them once they returned to Heartland, but for me, just this small sack was already baffling.
Twenty gold coins. It was an amount of money I had no reference for, or understanding of. Money was something I was feeling rather nervous about using, as it felt like an essential step in gaining more independence. Slaves were allowed only what was given them, so in a way, possessing money in and of itself was another step toward truly embracing my freedom.