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
Rift
The first step was the hardest, and I nearly cried out as the mere motion of walking caused my side to twist, inflaming the sunpurge. But I gritted my teeth and, with my tail lashing at the pain, put my other foot forward. Fable shadowed me closely, ready to catch me should my trembling legs give way.
The cathedral was a shattered ruin of its former grandeur. The once beautiful mosaics and tiled floors were now a chaotic mosaic of destruction, littered with chunks of masonry ranging from pebbles to entire sections of the wall. Blood stained every surface, running in rivulets down the walls and pooling on the floor. I was constantly forced to step over the twisted bodies of dead cultists, their lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.