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 Swamp
The swarms of insects grew thicker as we left Viriden, relentless in their assault against my wards. Our path took us northward, straight through the heart of the swamp along a cobblestone road. The footing was treacherous, with many of the stones sinking into the mud beneath our feet, or entirely submerged altogether. Tall reeds and cattails towered alongside the road, and the stench of damp rot clogged permeated the air.
"Damn," Soltair cursed, his foot vanishing into the water as a stone gave way beneath him. "When was the last time they serviced this road?"
Trithe shook her head, stepping away from him as he shook the mud from his boot. "Repairs are rare here. Even with magic, it's a strenuous process most cities can't afford. In my father's domain, we have a road similar to this, but the only attempt ended in disaster. Over half the workers were brought down by illness, and injuries were far too common."