Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20141022235724/@comment-5543592-20141028015535

Daithi glanced down at himself. His gut was bleeding profusely and awful burns covered his chest. He lay on his side, immobile, his leather clothes completely ripped open. A trail of blood led to where he’d dragged himself to the door, just so he could look outside and see his army escaping. It was enough to know Valuril had made it. Daithi took a deep breath, and stretched out on his back, getting comfortable.

''Daithi? Can you hear me?''

And so had Malachi. Which meant that Kazzris, Uvaryl, and all the other mercenaries had made it too.

''Am I clear to fire? Are you out of there?''

Daithi craned his neck, so he could get a good look at his domain, Valenwood. His inheritance. But then, although it was hardly the time to get philosophical, what was his inheritance? The Camoran dynasty had been created to defend the Bosmeri interests, to unite an unruly people so they could easily represent and defend themselves. And while he had been useless and captured, they’ done just that.

Daithi?

Perhaps Valenwood would be alright without him. He’d be leaving it in good hands.

Daithi!

Daithi sent his own thoughts back to Malachi: Take the shot.

Malachi turned to whoever had ended up manning the ballistae and gave the order. “Fire.”