J. Magi

"You can't fight them all . . ." He was breathing slower now.

" . . . You can't . . ."

"We can't . . ."

"But we can't both . . I don't want you to do either," He mumbled, more to himself then anything else. He started crying. "I should . . . I should . . ."

"Mhhhh" Every thing was going blurry, and his ears were ringing. He barely heard Kaza. "I . . . Kaza I don't want to die." A few tears ran down his face. "When I--when I came here I thought I could die but you made me want to live . . . I'm scared." It was getting harder to breath, everything was so unbearable hot. "I don't want . . ."

War is bad . . . fighting is bad . . . we've keep having this discussion.

That's a complicated answer hmmm I love dnd and I have played it before, but I don't get to play it very often because I don't have an irl group to play with. I used to play with my family a few times a year but we've all gotten too busy. Plus, my older brother who was DMing for us has started DMing officially for a local game shop, so he can't do it for us anymore. My sister's fiance did start a campaign with me and my siblings that was more homebrew (he even gave us miniatures for it) but he and my sister live out of state so they don't come over very often and we've only played once so far. I tried going to my schools dnd club and . . . it was an experience to say the least. Imagine one classroom full of 50-60 people, and there's only 4 DM's to split them between. Not to mention the uh . . . lack of hygiene from my fellow nerds, which was a bit of a deal breaker for me. We also have a PM dnd group here on the Shard that's been going since last summer which is pretty fun, but like rp's on the Shard it's a lot slower paced than normal irl dnd would be. So yeah! I love dnd! I think it's awesome! But I don't really play it that much . . . Alternatively, I think it's fine, if not completely natural. Language is meant to change and progress over time, as times and people change. It shouldn't be held to the golden standard of 'if you don't speak like my grandfather, your stupid.' Every generation has it's slang, and so does mine. Shakespeare's 'modern slang' literally made a large amount of today's 'proper' English. Do I use the slang? Sometimes, though perhaps not as much as my fellow gen z. It's a manner of using some words to express some things and some words to express others, I guess. Sometimes, the slang will convey my feelings better, and other times, words from the oxford dictionary will feelings better. It's a matter of situation. Sorry that was a bit long winded, but langauge really interests me, and I think how it morphs and changes over time is kind of beautiful. (That being said, I do dislike how sometimes modern speech can be more disrespectful . . . there's cursing and disrespect in every generation so I don't know if it's worse now then before, but either way I wish people were kinder with they're words.)

He stares up at him, "I . . ." It was so hot--the heat of his own pains much outweighing that of the lava. His mind felt so sluggish he couldn't think.

Penn follows. "Do you think that's real gold?"

Po flinched is she stabbed him. He hoped that this pain would fade into the others . . . that his adrenaline would keep him going but, that didn't seem to be the case. The new wound seemed to bring it all back to the front of his mind. All the exhaustion and pain he'd been repressing hit him like a brick wall. Everything hurt. Everything. Po stumbled to the ground gasping. He could barely breath. He winced as Kaza fell onto him.

Sharpo shoves into her as she lunges for Kaza. He plunges his knife into her side again. "I'm--I'm alive . . . Sharp'i's alive . . . Kaza's alive," He mumbled to himself.

Oh come on

@Scars of Hathsin @RoyalBeeMage

waaaait I thought we agreed not to fight . . . ?

Highlighter orange.

This one immediately throws him off, and Galdorn hits the ground hard. Most of the thugs have entered the back room now, with only around half a dozen left to pursue the party. Kurtis waves from the back door, trying to get him to follow.

Several thugs stop to stare as they move past, a little shaken. These weren't hardened warriors it seemed.

The leader-like one notices him, and calls a few thugs over to run at him. The thug with the crossbow is standing next to the leader, waiting for direction. Several thugs attempt to grab Kurtis, but he manages to wrestle his way free. "Let's go!" He yelled, looking around uncertain. Was it just a coincidence that the inn was attached during their meeting? It must've been, these weren't southern rebels--the language they spoke sounded different and from what he'd been informed they wore uniforms. Besides, it seemed the thugs were here for something else, though Kurtis had no idea what that was. @Scars of Hathsin @RoyalBeeMage

He rolls to the side to knock Sleeper off, and then disappears into the growing crowd of thugs. The majority of them are ignoring the party, instead moving past into the back room where the barkeeper had gone. A tall thug with a different colored face mask was directly them in a throaty language. The short one staggers, clearly the ankle area wasn't metallic. The second thug shakes the confusion off rather quickly coming in for an attack on Galdorn's right. Kurtis dodged between attacks, defending rather than trying to take the thugs down. "Can . . . I suggest running?" He didn't look winded, but there was an uncertainty in his eyes. This hadn't been part of the plan.

The first one lands on the ground with a slam, and quickly gets back on his feet as Galdorn dashes away. The second one dodges back, but throws himself off balance for a moment. The first one lunges in from behind, making a swing at Galdorn's head.