His determination automatically fades away.
“So who’s going to lead us then?”
Despite all the heart in the world, she could not move. Perhaps it was the years of being a mercenary, that screamed in her body not to move. Two voices screaming over one another, and the voice of reason won over the voice of morals.
There was nothing she could do.
His pupils shrink in shock.
“M-M-Me?! Ya have got to be joking, Parn! I have the leadership skills of a passive toddler, how can I lead a crew on my own?!”
“Fine. fine. fine. fine.”
Dawson fumbles around his person searching for his coincase. After a bit he reaches it and the jingle of coinage can be heard.
“20. I will expect to not have to pay the after fee if I don’t get my valuables.” He glares.
A sinister red energy fills the child, causing him to convulse unnaturally. The child bends and twists horrifically, as if his body cannot hold the overpowering influence of the dark gods.
The last thing the child saw, was Faris. A faint glimmer of pain surfaces as he cries out “PWEASE,” sobbing all the way.
The life drained from his eyes as he fell one final time, departing from this realm.
She saw everything happen in front of her.
That fire… worshipping gods… and that boy.
His face was etched into her mind. She won’t be forgetting him any time soon.
For the first time, she felt fear. No. She was gripped by fear from the very beginning. No amounts of odd-jobs and rough ups would have prepared her for this.
@discobot roll 1d20
2
Andar grabs the coin in one sweep. Rich costumer’s just the best!
“You sure you want the box? The thief isn’t some small back street thugs.”
“Why can’t ya do it?! Ya been around Captain longer than I have, I’m sure ya can take over his position more easily than I ever could.”
Hi! To find out what I can do, say @discobot display help.
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She felt an eerily deathlike chill down her spine. She couldn’t move. The cultists shifted their gaze to her location.
“Mithras has granted us sight! Come now child, and be renewed in the loving embrace of the god of sacrifice” The Leader says directly to you.
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“That box has everything I ever wanted in my life. It gives meaning to my decisions, and is the only keepsake of them I have left.” He shudders for a moment, before recomposing.
“I need it today.”
“See, here’s the problem with me being the leader.” He kicks the ground.
“Everyone who doesn’t love me-despite how few they are-wants my head on a pike mounted on their table as they eat my flesh.”
“Also known as the Navy.”
In her mind, all she could see was the dying boy’s face.
Sacrifice? God? How Cruel…
@discobot roll 1d20