Today’s snippet, titled “The Thorned Whip”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s new (Good) Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      The sun was gaining its apex rapidly and the temperature seemed to fluctuate between dry as dust, but sweltering, and dry as dust, but freezing. Rhiallis squinted into the horizon. Drezen was a black speck at the furthest reach of her sight, well behind them, and ahead lay only an arid wasteland. Scrub grass and hardy brown weeds abounded, but no water or foliage.
      Not that you’d want to drink the water or eat anything that grew here anyway, Rhiallis thought, tossing her hair from her eyes. Will closing the ‘Wound be enough to restore Mendev’s bounty, one day? Or will this land always lie fallow, a casualty of the Abyssal energies that leeched in?
      “So, we’ve got at least a day’s hard ride until here,” Celeste was saying to Korael, pointing to some landmark on her map. “And then-”
      “Hey – what’s that?”
      They all halted, mesmerized by the strange crystalline growth of brilliant, azure that lay ahead. It was directly in their path, and would take but minutes to bypass, yet something drew them near to it instead.
      “Who’s going up there – to see what it is?”
      Rhiallis frowned. No one volunteered at first, then Aimsley – her big, beautiful mind ever curious, every analysing – raised her hand.
      “I’ll go.”
      She swallowed hard, then urged Emerald forward. “I’m with you, Aimsley.”
      Together they moved slowly forward, vigilant for movement or any sign of aggression from the queer patch of crystal. It stood no more than three feet high and was such a pure, exquisite shade of blue that it brought to mind the summer skies over her childhood home. She smiled.
      “Is it…?” Aimsley whispered, still ahorse. “Evil?:
      Rhiallis raised her hand, presenting her holy symbol to it, and concentrated. After a moment, she shook her head.
      “Maybe we should just leave it al-”
      Aimsley’s words were cut short as a sudden, ear-shattering sound emanated from the crystalline structure. It was not a scream, but something low and deep. It seemed to interfere with the beat of her heart and shook her bones to the very marrow.
      A heartbeat later, she blinked.
      Half of their group, at least, seemed stunned by the sound. They were unable to move, unable to ride, unable to even defend themselves.
      Those who were not, including Rhiallis herself, dismounted to engage in melee.
      For some reason, the thing seemed to focus on Niro, for it lashed out at him time and time again with pseudopods of transparent stone. It wailed on him as if he were a child’s plaything, yet somehow, they could do little damage to it.
      “Look out!”
      Niro ducked – but the warning came too late. He became ensnared in the queer, stony goo. With a mighty slam, it nearly knocked him to his back (CRITICAL! OUCH!).
      “He’s going to bleed out! Someone, help him! Heal him!”
      Rhiallis nearly dropped her sword.
      What? He- what? No. I- no! I didn’t know! I wasn’t watching! I- Oh Iomedae, forgive me! Anguish flooded her as she broke off to move close to Niro. Encased in blue crystal, she was loathe to touch him, or risk the creature’s wrath, but she summoned the healing energy of her Goddess and burst it forth, to heal him.
      It was not enough.
      When at last the beast was dead, Rhiallis dropped to her knees. Radiance clattered to the ground, forgotten in her despair.
      “Why?” she whispered, clutching herself around the waist. “Why did you let him die?”
      Aimsley lay a hand on her shoulder, silent reassurance. No blame was placed upon her, no harsh words spoken, yet she lashed her own heart with a thorned whip over and over. You had but one sacred duty, Rhiallis. ONE thing, above all others, that you have sworn to do! Heal your allies… heal them, keep them alive, help them to fight by not fighting yourself, but healing them with Iomedae’s blessings and you fucking failed – you failed him utterly!
      “We can’t take him with us, he’ll be too heavy, soon.”
      Sadie glanced over at Korael and nodded. “She’s right. He’s turning to stone, or crystal, or whatever.”
      “I can’t teleport back with him,” Aimsley frowned, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “But I suppose, I could teleport back to Drezen and find James or someone, and tell them to come out and retrieve him. His- corpse? Niro, I mean, his er- body? Because I will be able to help him – one day, there’s a spell to reverse this condition – but it is beyond my capabilities now.”
      “That’s what we’ll do then,” Celeste said.
      “Let’s take the things we need to preserve,” Korael said, plucking the enchanted sack from his belt. “Before we go.”
      We’re so mercenary, Rhiallis thought, standing up and sliding Radiance back into her scabbard. But what choice have we? There is evil yet to vanquish and our lives do not matter much against the big picture.
      “They’ll take him home,” Aimsley said, as if she had heard Rhiallis’ thoughts. “Do not worry, Rhiallis. One day, we’ll restore Niro and resurrect Graves and all our fallen friends will live again. The Worldwound will close and everything will be as it should be. It will.”
      Rhiallis smiled weakly. “It will.”
      …if I fall before our final victory, will I meet Viggo in paradise, or will they bring me back to life – back to James?

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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me