TrashPanda
Just a Humble Dictator of Dumpsterdom
Dungeon Master
Inner Sanctum Nobility
♔ Champion ♔
- Local time
- Today 11:13 PM
- Messages
- 958
- Age
- 34
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"Hold the line!" Shouted the leader of their party. It was a small band the dark hair cleric had joined. Their quest was to fight off against the army of dark shapeless horrors that was being lead by a currupt nightwalker. An undead monstrosity that was oozing this black inky substance that would then come alive and become horrifying creatures.
"Keep it up guys. Reinforcements should be here soon." She yelled to the party.
The dark haired cleric kept up her spell casting. Throwing bolts of radiant energy left and right. She also cast a few spells of healing. Attempting to keep her comrades alive. However it was beginning to become overwhelming. They were losing ground and fast.
Her breathing was beginning to become harder as she was nearly pushing herself to exhaustion. In her weakness. Something got through. A black ooze had reached a member of her party. The ranger. The claw that raked across the ranger's chest dug deep. The Ranger stumbled backwards before falling hard to the ground.
It was as if everything went into slow motion. She screamed the word "no" in horror. She then turned after hearing one of her companions yell for assistance. But before she could turn to cast a spell. It had been too late.
The sickening crunch of bones came to her ears as her companion was flattened but a much larger foe.
She froze.
In that frozen state did she feel this piercing pain explode into her gut. What had pierced her looked to be a spike the size of a lance.
The lance-like ichor spike withdrew from her gut. She moved her hand to her gut. Her mace falling to ground below that she held onto until now. She looked up at her attacker briefly before falling backwards to the ground. The moon shaped holy symbol bouncing against her breastplate.
Where were they? Where was he? Where was Tyrius?
Placing her hand to the holy symbol she began to chant a prayer. One of healing to her and her companions. It wasn't going to be a lot but she hoped it would be enough to hold out for reinforcements. To hold out for the other heroes. To hold on to life for her hero to arrive.
The sound of large footsteps approached and she looked away from the sky. Towards the large nightwalker had come closer. She watched as the large black ichor of a hand rise and with sickening speed begin to fall.
Towards her and the party.
This was it. The end.
She closed her eyes, tears welling up in their sockets and she whispered.
"Where are you….. my hero?"
She then waited for the cold void of death. But it didn't come. No, not cold. What had arrived was a hand to her cheek and warmth began to fill her. With that warmth was strength. Her pain began to subside. Was this death's true sense of feeling? No.
She opened her eyes to a radiant light that filled her vision and in that light was a face. A short haired blonde man staring down at her.
"Don't worry, Verra. I am here." He said with a sad smile. "I kept praying that we wouldn't be too late."
He bent down and kissed her forehead. As he pulled back, he said. "And I brought friends."
The grunt she could now hear was from a large man to her left. One of a giant size.
"Kiss and hug later! My giants might will not last too much longer, Feathers." The giant growled loudly behind him.
"Alright. Wait here. Everyone will be fine, love. I promise." He the stood up and walked away. She used the little bit of her strength to sit up.
Watching her hero walk towards the nightwalker. His angelic wings spring from his back as he speaks. "Alright big bad. Let's light you up."
Her hero had come.
"Keep it up guys. Reinforcements should be here soon." She yelled to the party.
The dark haired cleric kept up her spell casting. Throwing bolts of radiant energy left and right. She also cast a few spells of healing. Attempting to keep her comrades alive. However it was beginning to become overwhelming. They were losing ground and fast.
Her breathing was beginning to become harder as she was nearly pushing herself to exhaustion. In her weakness. Something got through. A black ooze had reached a member of her party. The ranger. The claw that raked across the ranger's chest dug deep. The Ranger stumbled backwards before falling hard to the ground.
It was as if everything went into slow motion. She screamed the word "no" in horror. She then turned after hearing one of her companions yell for assistance. But before she could turn to cast a spell. It had been too late.
The sickening crunch of bones came to her ears as her companion was flattened but a much larger foe.
She froze.
In that frozen state did she feel this piercing pain explode into her gut. What had pierced her looked to be a spike the size of a lance.
The lance-like ichor spike withdrew from her gut. She moved her hand to her gut. Her mace falling to ground below that she held onto until now. She looked up at her attacker briefly before falling backwards to the ground. The moon shaped holy symbol bouncing against her breastplate.
Where were they? Where was he? Where was Tyrius?
Placing her hand to the holy symbol she began to chant a prayer. One of healing to her and her companions. It wasn't going to be a lot but she hoped it would be enough to hold out for reinforcements. To hold out for the other heroes. To hold on to life for her hero to arrive.
The sound of large footsteps approached and she looked away from the sky. Towards the large nightwalker had come closer. She watched as the large black ichor of a hand rise and with sickening speed begin to fall.
Towards her and the party.
This was it. The end.
She closed her eyes, tears welling up in their sockets and she whispered.
"Where are you….. my hero?"
She then waited for the cold void of death. But it didn't come. No, not cold. What had arrived was a hand to her cheek and warmth began to fill her. With that warmth was strength. Her pain began to subside. Was this death's true sense of feeling? No.
She opened her eyes to a radiant light that filled her vision and in that light was a face. A short haired blonde man staring down at her.
"Don't worry, Verra. I am here." He said with a sad smile. "I kept praying that we wouldn't be too late."
He bent down and kissed her forehead. As he pulled back, he said. "And I brought friends."
The grunt she could now hear was from a large man to her left. One of a giant size.
"Kiss and hug later! My giants might will not last too much longer, Feathers." The giant growled loudly behind him.
"Alright. Wait here. Everyone will be fine, love. I promise." He the stood up and walked away. She used the little bit of her strength to sit up.
Watching her hero walk towards the nightwalker. His angelic wings spring from his back as he speaks. "Alright big bad. Let's light you up."
Her hero had come.