Today’s snippet, titled “A Fleshwound”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      “Portcullis is open,” Niro said, readying his blade. “But the doors are closed.”
      Korael nodded, plucking arrows from her quiver as Celeste and Mira drew weapons as well. Aimsley and Sardones squared their shoulders, prepared for anything. Bringing up the rear, Isadora Porter, smoothed her hands over her flat stomach and took a deep, cleansing breath.
      Rhiallis drew Radiance. The golden blade glittered in the morning sun, taking her breath away for an instant. An image of James’ dimpled smile flashed across her mind and she banished it hastily. Raising her shield hand to the skies, Rhiallis presented her golden tattoo to the sun. She concentrated for a long moment, Celeste doing the same.
      “They’re in there. Something. Someone.”
      “Evil?”
      Celeste cast a skeptical glance back at Aimsley as if to tell her that she had asked the stupidest question since the dawn of time, but cracked a faint smile to take the edge off.
      Quickly, Rhiallis cast a blessing upon Mira, then herself, protecting them both. There were spells being chanted on the other side of the door as well.
      “Bodiis tiid, wuappede med masek. Faal Rah do Lu bolaav mii nelom, ko daar un tiid do praag,” Aimsley’s incantation changed the weave of time itself; each of the party seemed to be moving at an advanced rate though the world continued on normally.
      “Here we go,” Celeste grunted, pulling open one of the heavy, iron-bound doors.
      The room was dark.
      Within, two dwarves waited with their entourage. One wore wickedly spiked platemail and wielded a glaive. The other was clad in a suit of banded mail and bore a heavy dwarven warhammer. Both snarled in unison as the door opened. Flanking them were an emaciated pair of slime-covered babaus and standing behind, two four-armed primate-like monstrosities who bristled with handaxes and throwing axes.
      “Staunton Vane,” Celeste hissed.
      First through the door, Celeste took the blackguard’s first, brutal blow. Sensing the evil bleeding from his weapon, Rhiallis quickly called forth the power in her blood that made her incorruptible and with the others, pushed into the room.
      Darkness rippled over them and Sardones scoffed. “Nusaan shulkun, ghovin lahrin, drun amativ shulkun, niivut vulom!”
      Light as bright noon ripped forth from the mage’s hands and burned away the gloom. Within an instant, the battle was join in full force. Rhiallis waged war with a babau, Niro went into melee with a girillion. Korael sent a wave of arrows into the enemy and both Aimsley and Sardones kept pace with spell after spell.
      Mar was standing near Sardones when some unspeakable urge overcame him. He sauntered over and very casually jabbed his rapier into the mage’s flank.
      Those that saw it could not react, there was simply no time.
      “Staunton, we should just surrender!”
      “Stand tall!” The blackguard growled at his companion. “We got these fuckers right where we want them!”
      “Mar, back away from Sardones!”
      Sardones lifted his hands, “Don’t hurt him, he’s my friend.”
      “Sardones, he just stabbed you!”
      The mage shrugged. “Just a flesh wound.”
      Rhiallis swung her blade and connected once more; Radiance made her a hundred times better in martial combat and she relished the surge of power as the demon died beneath the glint of her weapon. She turned to argue with Sardones, to tell Mar to yield his weapon and kneel for punishment. But Celeste was still engaged with Staunton and she needed the touch of a healer.
      “Oi! I surrender! I surrender!”
      “Josen, ya balmy cunt! What are you doing?!”
      Rhiallis whirled in time to see the dwarf in banded throw down his warhammer and drop to his knees. He was grievously wounded and seemed to have a hard time hold his bloody hands up. She moved toward him, Radiance pointed at his head.
      “Do not reach for your weapon and you will not be harmed.”
      “I shall not!”
      Laying a hand upon his shoulder, she let Iomedae’s healing light pulse forth into him. A few of his wounds healed and she sheathed her blade long enough to restrain him with a pair of manacles.
      By the time she turned around, Staunton too, had fallen.
      As her allies gathered round again, she heard them talking about a charm incantation and how Sardones and Mar were under its spell, Korael and Isadora as well. Rhiallis kept her focus on Josen Vane the entire time.
      A brutal fight had depleted many of their resources and there was still so much to be done. Rhiallis wondered if they should escort Josen out and take an entire day to rest while the Blackguard’s minion were in chaos over the loss of their master, or push on, deeper into the citadel and take advantage of that uncertainty.
      She frowned and cast a glance over her shoulder, toward the exit. So many people out there, depending on them, counting on them to liberate the city. She now knew how Viggo must have felt when he looked back on the village of Surdar as he departed; the pressure of their expectation and their hope.
      For a moment, she tried to conjure that familiar mental image of Viggo – the still portrait of him she had memorized one afternoon as they lay in the grass with sunlight glowing on their naked flesh. In his place came the golden smile of James with his lopsided dimple and bright green eyes.
      Her heart, confused by the myriad of conflicting feelings, skipped a beat. Rhiallis closed her eyes to the past, ignored the possible futures, and forced herself to focus on the present. Focus on Jozen. Focus on her friends. Focus on the weight of Radiance at her hip.
      Anything but Viggo’s dark, flashing eyes.
      …and James’ mischievous emerald green ones.
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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me