RC Tyrot: Into the blighted wood

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Leaving Ratchett, Yri and Dhaeima behind, Cugaer rides through the country side oblivious to his surrondings. Cugear's head swirls with thoughts, as he tries to get a grip on what's just happened.
I can't have lost another friend! It can't be possible. I won't let it. But then how could one lowly priest of Brenal hope to rise someone from the dead? Yet in a way I'm is already trying to do that for someone else. But then having two lives in my hands, I just can't do that!

But then how could he let Tanari die? At that moment his thoughts jumped back to his childhood, with his Aunt and Uncle. How he was an outcast from the locals. All the other children use to tease him about been an elf friend, even though he'd never seen an elf in his life. He remembered the long days just sitting and watching his Aunt work away, making herbal potions for the locals, or talking to his Uncle about the beliefs of Adeln and the other gods of Karyst, while all the others played out side, excluding him just because they say that he new some elves.
And then a flash fowards a few years, to his friends sick bed. Seeing his great friend Vol lying there on the edge of death, with him, Cugaer, having no way of helping.
Then another flash foward, to him meeting Tanari in side that witches hut, all those months ago. And their trip up north to try and find this man the witch mentioned, who might be able to save Vol. The memory of Tanari playing about his elven home in that inn, and telling him the story of the destuction of it by that fiend.
Then last of all to the death of the nymph, only yesturday, before a cry of a far off bird brought his attention back to the present.

Turning around he smiles weakly at Melvin before muttering to himself, "We're going to save him."

 

Melvin, saddened and feeling very lonely regarding the death of his dearest friend, could only nod in reply.

Sitting atop Yrinnyn's uncomfortable mule, his mind whirled back to the events which had brought him to this. His meeting of the elf in Mesharr, to investigating conspiracies, to fighting worgs. Then it whirled onward, to the screams and shouts of his companions in the fight with the werewolf, and subsequently; the fight with the werewolf against the humans.
He had handled well initially he thought. He had hurt the werewolf with the silver dagger so they could tie her up and maybe kill her - but he had changed his mind. He had been some help in the fight with the humans, yes, but ultimately his actions were not swift enough to save the werewolf he had tried to kill moments before. He curses himself for it.

He had also killed a nymph, though it had been a demon Tanari said. A swift arrow to her back had brought her down and saved the party from death or eternal servitude to her. Him and his companions had prevailed, had pretty much slaughtered the Unseelie and her minions. He had even killed her himself! He was a good fighter, he told himself, sneaky, fast and deadly. He curses himself for that too.

He had become too confident. To sure of his own and his party's abilities. He had underestimated the two ogres. He had seen them coming, but so sure of his friends' abilities to kill them, yet failed to warn them of the ambushing beasts quickly enough. He had made a stupid move to try and flank the ogre and as a result he had been knocked unconcious and his dearest friend had fallen. Had Died.

He will always curse himself for that.

Now, while his friend Tanari was draped accross Cugaer's horse, he wished more than ever that he had studied the way of the Art. That he had magical ability. Now, more than ever, he wished there was something he could do to save his friend from staying dead before the task he had set out to finish was completed. Tanari shouldn't have died, not yet, not before he could do what he needed to do. No sneak attack, backstab, hiding or lockpicking would help him. And he curses himself for it.

Melvin turned to Cugaer, "Yes, yes we shall save him."
"I hope" he added, under his breath.

 

And they journeyed far to the corners of the world...

 

I think you've posted in the wrong topic, mate. This is a Player/DM only Topic, it is not open roleplay.
Read the Forum & Posting Guidelines for this forum.

 

Ratchett gazes silently into the distance as he leads his heavily-laden mule by the halter. Somewhere beyond the horizon, he knows Cuegar is hurrying to a temple with Tanari's mortal remains.

Despite the still that seems to lie over the party, Ratchett feels little besides a nagging sense that this is not the natural way of things. Since leaving home he had risked his life alongside countless strangers, only to see them on the gallows, stabbed in some dark alley, or simply disappear without trace. Over time they had blended into one another... Another figure in the darkened corner of the tavern...another voice, another sword at his side....but things ought to be different now...perhaps the old life is going to be harder to leave behind than he thought.