Caelynn’s eye’s gleam with understanding. he says quietly, almost under his breath, but everyone still hears him clearly:
“Go my brothers, escape from this trench of despair, I will try to hold them whilst you do. We cannot fail this, not now, not with all the lands on the cusp of despair that Acererak will spread.” Then, with a smile: “It’s a glorious day to die indeed.”
Ozrik, bloody and battered chuckles as he shifts his footing. There is no doubt in his mind how this will end, and certainly there is a part of him that wants to escape, but inside he knows he won’t. He lifts his blades and swings them in practiced arcs, very wary of how much slower they move now as exhaustion begins to seep in.
“Caelynn… I won’t die crawling away from allies down a narrow tunnel. I would die here, and my blades will taste the dark blood of these fiends before I am done. They will know my name, and the bite of winter before this fight is done.”
I will die well, today. Ozrik vows under his breath to himself. At least death, he thinks to himself, will be an end to the pain.
J'afrock (Dave L):
J’afrock, on one knee, looks over at Caelynn and Ozrik and notices the resignation in their eyes, but knows they will not go quietly. His limbs are heavy with the necrotic sting of the undead, standing over them. His breathing is shallow and irregular; he can no longer summon the words to inspire his companions. But this, this dark place, will not be his tomb. “When I go
to the grassy plains and journey to see Agravelenon, I will depart from a field of battle, in the sunlight, where people will witness my sacrifice and it will inspire others to glory of fighting tyranny and evil.”
A wicked smile comes to his face, as his shield hand dips into his tunic while he stands.”General, I have had enough amusement today. Permission to slay this poor excuse of a tavern wench.” As he twirls, his axe, his shield begins to shed a golden hue.