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
The Crimson Guard
I pulled my cowl low as we stepped from the carriage, concealing my demonic features. We were within a spacious courtyard within the sprawling city of Viriden, before the City Lord's keep. Unlike Lord Byron's mansion, it was a solid building with a high outer wall and soaring towers. A contingent of soldiers stood at attention, led by a man with gleaming plate and a scarlet cloak. He removed his helmet, placing it under the crook of his arm, and dropped to one knee.
"It's a pleasure to welcome, great heroes. I only wish it were under more tranquil times. I am Andres, vice commander of the Crimson Guard, leading the Second Guard."
Soltair's brow creased as he peered at the ranks of trained soldiers. "Did Alric send you?"
"Indeed. We were deployed the moment he heard the first Demon Gate appeared in Radia. I humbly request you allow us to accompany you in your mission."