MarcusFromOz
Well-Known Member
Attempting to prop himself up against the stone wall, WeeMarcusFromOz realised that he was near his end.
The smoke, the mist and the ember had combined into a cloud that enveloped him.
He didn't remember clearly what happened, they had entered the dungeon, like many times before, but this felt different.
The creatures were so strong, so in control, an arrow from one broke his leg, it would not recover.
His armour now fully broken, his life began to flash in front of his eyes.
He looked at his emberfly essence stud earring and thought of recent times in the highland hills.
His tracker hide helm, where did that come from again, his memory was fading fast.
The warrior chief bearskin spaulder and the darkwater necklace were a blur, a vague recollection of hunting in the meadowlands, bears, large bears, and caves.
The Chithorn's Pauldron, memories of that spider cave with friends.
The tattered elder shirt, the quickfingered gloves, the warrior chief bearskin bracer.
The Ring of Morro, the Black Chitin belt, the Dryfoot Dustkickers.
The Brookhollow Short Sword sat by his side, as useless as all that he wore, broken beyond repair.
Yes these things were important to him, but not more so than the friends he met along the way.
The knights that sometimes joined them, the brigands, the sentinels, the duelists.
Names were escaping him, like the blood he could see running from his head, finding cracks in the floor, slowly pooling next to the ember ring.
The ember ring, the ember, the thing they all desired to understand.
In a moment of clarity he reached down and noticed the stone still glowed brightly on his tattered belt, unaffected by everything that had happened.
He stopped and thought again of his friends, of those who entered this dungeon with him, Aluna in particular, what had happened to them?
He hoped they were ok, but as things turned dark he remembered that they were all in a similar situation to his.
What would become of the treasures he stored in the city, would others use them, did they even know of them.
He remembered a chest that he shared, but others he hid away.
He coughed and saw the blood on his hands, and his vision again blurred.
It became dark everywhere, except for the orange glow of the ember ring and the ember stone on his belt.
The bloody ember.
The smoke, the mist and the ember had combined into a cloud that enveloped him.
He didn't remember clearly what happened, they had entered the dungeon, like many times before, but this felt different.
The creatures were so strong, so in control, an arrow from one broke his leg, it would not recover.
His armour now fully broken, his life began to flash in front of his eyes.
He looked at his emberfly essence stud earring and thought of recent times in the highland hills.
His tracker hide helm, where did that come from again, his memory was fading fast.
The warrior chief bearskin spaulder and the darkwater necklace were a blur, a vague recollection of hunting in the meadowlands, bears, large bears, and caves.
The Chithorn's Pauldron, memories of that spider cave with friends.
The tattered elder shirt, the quickfingered gloves, the warrior chief bearskin bracer.
The Ring of Morro, the Black Chitin belt, the Dryfoot Dustkickers.
The Brookhollow Short Sword sat by his side, as useless as all that he wore, broken beyond repair.
Yes these things were important to him, but not more so than the friends he met along the way.
The knights that sometimes joined them, the brigands, the sentinels, the duelists.
Names were escaping him, like the blood he could see running from his head, finding cracks in the floor, slowly pooling next to the ember ring.
The ember ring, the ember, the thing they all desired to understand.
In a moment of clarity he reached down and noticed the stone still glowed brightly on his tattered belt, unaffected by everything that had happened.
He stopped and thought again of his friends, of those who entered this dungeon with him, Aluna in particular, what had happened to them?
He hoped they were ok, but as things turned dark he remembered that they were all in a similar situation to his.
What would become of the treasures he stored in the city, would others use them, did they even know of them.
He remembered a chest that he shared, but others he hid away.
He coughed and saw the blood on his hands, and his vision again blurred.
It became dark everywhere, except for the orange glow of the ember ring and the ember stone on his belt.
The bloody ember.
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