Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160303163426/@comment-7203512-20160314191429

"I-I... I can w-walk...", Aelwin weeped out, looking at his index finger, "D-don't b-burden yours-", the weep was interrupted by a rough, bloody bark. The young, sickly Undead tried his best not to drop blood on the stout Redguard. He stretched his left hand to check if the blade was still dangling on his waist, as he felt heavy. Pulling a rag out the sack hanging on his neck, he bit his lower lip and sniveled, as he tried to wrap the rag around his ruined finger.

Aelwin then took a deep breath and unfolded the sack wide open to see if the gems were still inside. Tinkling, they blinded the just-woken Breton with the interplay of colours.

"J-Jericho... L-let me g-go, pleas-se...", he turned his head to the warrior, hoping to persuade him. "I-I feel bet-t-", a smothered, bloody whoop bursted from his lungs, as if tearing them apart. Aelwin was fast enough to shut his mouth, and shook away the blood from his palm.