A Drowish Dark

Note to whomever plays me: it'd be nice if you continued the RP from this post. Hopefully it's both entertaining and flexible.

Background: Jenna was Janne's wife; they married a few years after Janne moved to Ptolus. Though she looked no older than thirty, Janne says she died of natural causes. She was a member of a monastic order, so many believe she was a skilled monk, though no one in Ptolus can recall tales of her martial skill. However, after her death, there was a fight involving opportunistic enemies of the Knights of the Golden Cross, as well as several of Janne's friends and his daughter Kajsa. After the fight, one of the friends (Misha) gained custody of Kajsa, and left for Tarsis. The despairing Janne stayed in Ptolus.

Janne watches as Kasaki's flurry burns through the dryder's hide, into its heart.

"A fine... a fine hit, Kasaki," Janne manages. "Now, now, just give me a moment to rest, I just need a minute."

Another wave of nausea wracks Jannne. He doesn't know what types of foul magic the drow were using, but he could feel its taint, from the scratch on his arm to the raw bile that he found himself choking on mid-battle.

"What... ugh, what are they carrying?" Janne's pack was pretty full, though still relatively light. Just a few days earlier, traversing the path to Al Drakon, they had been ambushed, thanks to Deathspank's rash charge forth. Ultimately, the battle had been fairly straightforward: there was a large host of bugbears and drow, but most had no particular skill. More notably, there were strange dinosaurs of moderate strength, though Deathspank held them off casually. The leaders, Thor... Thor something. Both were Thor something. One was a sorcerer, the other a cleric, and in another time Janne was sure he would have feared them. But the Elder Gods had given him undying strength, and he and the others lay waste to the ambush, collecting a formidable set of magic items, as well as the 10 hand crossbows now clogging his pack.

Janne drops his pack with a thud. Have the others noticed yet? What is this... heaviness.... He coughs: "There's the room down below, we should make sure none are hiding there."

Maybe it's the ring he took from the... wizard? A cursed ring? He should take it off, now, he should take it off.

It rolls over him now, the fight. The bloody fight: Kasaki with the precision of a surgeon placed him before a drow wearing adorned armor, and Janne lashed out with his chain, it tore through her flesh like a hundred whips. He could still taste her dark blood, see the scorn in her eyes turn to fear as Igbot struck her from behind. Seconds, less, and the room was full of light and death, drow guards dropping like so many flies. Aeriana's ruse had worked with a brilliance that Janne could not have believed, they seemed to have no idea that she was not... the cleric... Thor.. Thorious? It's slipping again, the memory.

Janne sits, coughs again. "Where's... where's Misha?" The others look at him with bemused faces. "Misha? Are you okay?" There was the bile again, in his throat, he couldn't breathe.

He thinks he hears someone ask, "What? Who is Misha? I think he needs some healing...." Healing, Misha, she needs healing, so much blood.

Janne knows if he can just focus a bit, if he can concentrate, he can figure out what's going on. He was walking, walking, past the deep pool of water, to the tower in the webs. The tower, with many drow, poison bolts, spell after spell, trying to hold him, manipulate him, hurt him, he feels sick.

Janne knows again he must still be in the tower in the webs, he is with new companions, companions with some great skill. A healer? One of them is a healer, he recalls, a Lothianite. "Heal.. m..."

"Yeah, sounds like he needs healing."

Misha, Janne thinks, then all is dark.