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
Battle for the Shard
The sight of Sari hugging Alverin's leg drove a spike of fiery anger through me. The black tendrils of her slave crest were mixed with the shadows of a Heart Crest, practically smothering her soul beneath their combined weight. It hurt, watching her cling close to the king, looking at me with eyes filled with fear and disgust.
"Take them!" Bethiv commanded.
The Last Light Company sprang into action, collapsing in on us from all sides. I shrank against Fable's side, feeling incredibly small against the tide of soldiers. We were a small party of fifth-level soldiers and adventurers, yet faced with a sixth-level threat leading a hundred fourth-level soldiers. Alverin himself, a seventh level, seemed content to watch the battle, but his presence was a looming threat that all but doused our hope.
"I'm sorry," Orion said sadly, lifting his sword. "I hope you'll forgive me for what we're about to do."