Eternal
You’re feeling so ill at this point that if these deserters can actually do something to help you, you’ll give them a pass.
“Release them…let them make their antidote.” You gasp.
Your soldiers are hesitant, but fulfill your orders and release the belzakians so that they can do their work. The one who spoke up thanks you immediately and starts asking his buddies to help him mix up the antidote.
You lie on a bed roll drifting in and out of deliriousness hoping they hurry up with that antidote, eventually one of them approaches you.
“This is for you, my merciful general!”
You grab the wooden bowl that they’ve mixed the antidote in and struggle to sit up. After gazing into the green liquid you drink deeply.
“Yes, drink, soon all your pain will be no more!” the belzak exclaims
You might be ill and your hearing might be off due to missing an ear now, but the tone of the belzak’s voice is a little concerning. And you have every right to be concerned unfortunately it’s a little too late.
Your throat and your entire insides feel like they’re on fire. If you were ill before, that “antidote” you just drank made it ten times worse. You struggle to breathe and attempt to grab at the belzak who avoids your feeble attempts, though your other soldiers grab him and his fellows.
“YES DIE TYRANT! DIE FOR MAKING MY TRIBE SLAVES!” he screams before one of your soldiers cuts his throat.
It’s no victory though; your own life ends soon after as the mixture of poisons in your system shut down your body completely.
“Release them…let them make their antidote.” You gasp.
Your soldiers are hesitant, but fulfill your orders and release the belzakians so that they can do their work. The one who spoke up thanks you immediately and starts asking his buddies to help him mix up the antidote.
You lie on a bed roll drifting in and out of deliriousness hoping they hurry up with that antidote, eventually one of them approaches you.
“This is for you, my merciful general!”
You grab the wooden bowl that they’ve mixed the antidote in and struggle to sit up. After gazing into the green liquid you drink deeply.
“Yes, drink, soon all your pain will be no more!” the belzak exclaims
You might be ill and your hearing might be off due to missing an ear now, but the tone of the belzak’s voice is a little concerning. And you have every right to be concerned unfortunately it’s a little too late.
Your throat and your entire insides feel like they’re on fire. If you were ill before, that “antidote” you just drank made it ten times worse. You struggle to breathe and attempt to grab at the belzak who avoids your feeble attempts, though your other soldiers grab him and his fellows.
“YES DIE TYRANT! DIE FOR MAKING MY TRIBE SLAVES!” he screams before one of your soldiers cuts his throat.
It’s no victory though; your own life ends soon after as the mixture of poisons in your system shut down your body completely.
