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
Wrath of a Dragon
I clung to Fyren's arm, struggling to find balance amidst the violent tremors that threatened to knock me off my feet. The entire cavern quaked as if in protest, large chunks of rock plummeting amid a cloud of dust, obscuring the air.
Suppressing a cough, I swiftly summoned a Wind Wall to shield us from the debris. No sooner had the air begun to clear than the pillar of light dissipated, returning the cave to its distant, blue-tinged illumination.
"Impossible!" Soltair gasped, voicing the astonishment we all felt.
A shimmering, transparent dome of ice and snow surrounded the Dragon, encompassing several of the demonkin nearest it. The shield itself had barely withstood the attack. Long, slender cracks spiderwebbed across the entire dome, warping our vision of the inside.