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
Strategy
The dusky streets without the Glossy Sparrow gave way to soft, gray, morning light. The sun seemed to flow over the wall in viscous sheets, staining the tops of the buildings, slowly pouring down toward the street. In the time since Helron had arrived, it had successfully reached the upper eaves of the western-facing windows, spilling into the common room and illuminating the drifting motes of dust.
The arrival of the morning went mostly unnoticed amid our small council, but I couldn't help but glance up as the sunlight fell across my horns, a warm itch spreading down the ridges into my scalp.