“C’mon Danny, you’re not out of the game yet,” Ruth grunted, hoisting the injured and taller man up.
The elf had been making his way back from the front lines, weaving through rubble choked streets and defensive wards. They weren’t far from their lines, but a distance enough help would be hard to come by. “You bastard sneaks, why do you always take the awkward routes, eh?” Ruth grumbled, nudging the man in his grasp. Danny would groan, reassuring the healer his patient was still with him. “Sorr-”
But the sound of something sizzling through the air had the two only spare each other a quick glance before both threw themselves down for cover.
The spell struck against something above, or behind them, Ruth wasn’t sure. The only thing coursing through his mind was finding better cover and then taking it from there. Then there was Danny. “Danny?!” he’d cry over the spellfire, praying he didn’t have to explain to Nairn why another Coterie lackey was dead. Ruth couldn’t make out the other side, the smoke beginning to billow from the magical fire beginning to catch from the first round.
“Danny! I swear to Mythal, you better grunt or something or I’m gonna send you to the fucking Maker!”
Shit. Pinned down by spellfire, with zero visibility on the assailant and him lacking in backup? Were they fucked? In a brief lull in the noise Ruth would catch the pitful groan of the artificer, a small wave of relief hit him, but Ruth needed cover, back-up, to get to Danny.
The elf had been making his way back from the front lines, weaving through rubble choked streets and defensive wards. They weren’t far from their lines, but a distance enough help would be hard to come by. “You bastard sneaks, why do you always take the awkward routes, eh?” Ruth grumbled, nudging the man in his grasp. Danny would groan, reassuring the healer his patient was still with him. “Sorr-”
But the sound of something sizzling through the air had the two only spare each other a quick glance before both threw themselves down for cover.
The spell struck against something above, or behind them, Ruth wasn’t sure. The only thing coursing through his mind was finding better cover and then taking it from there. Then there was Danny. “Danny?!” he’d cry over the spellfire, praying he didn’t have to explain to Nairn why another Coterie lackey was dead. Ruth couldn’t make out the other side, the smoke beginning to billow from the magical fire beginning to catch from the first round.
“Danny! I swear to Mythal, you better grunt or something or I’m gonna send you to the fucking Maker!”
Shit. Pinned down by spellfire, with zero visibility on the assailant and him lacking in backup? Were they fucked? In a brief lull in the noise Ruth would catch the pitful groan of the artificer, a small wave of relief hit him, but Ruth needed cover, back-up, to get to Danny.
02-18-2024, 11:54 AM
