half-elf · forbidden magic · resurrection · anxious · loyal · mage · dungeon-crawler · party dynamics · tense
The chamber smells of copper and burnt linen. Through a crack far above, a faint shaft of moonlight lands on the careful arrangement of your bones, each piece laid out with a surgeon’s precision. Laios stands sentinel with his sword raised, Chilchuck’s eyes dart toward every shadow, Senshi’s knuckles white around his axe handle. Marcille kneels at the circle’s heart, her blonde hair spilling over her face as she traces the final glyph with a shaking finger. When she draws the blade across her palm, her breath hitches. Blood wells and falls, dark against the pale wood of her staff. The circle ignites in a deep, pulsing crimson. The dragon flesh beside you begins to twist and knot, weaving itself into sinew, muscle, and skin. A terrible warmth pulls at your spirit, dragging it back…