[Unfortunately for Arthur, this newcomer is not injured, so a 12 is not quite good enough—allowing the man to block the attack with his sword, holding it up as he struggles against Arthur's strength.]
This a friend of yours? He's not looking too good—!
[With what little strength she has right now, wounded but determined, the woman aims to stab Arthur in the gut, calling out as she does so.]
I know I can't exactly say, "let's talk this out, Arthur" right now, but come on—if you can hear me at all, give me a sign!
[The blade goes through his gut, not quite fatal but fairly debilitating. As the woman withdraws, Arthur collapses, his blood splattering. With Arthur less able to move now, the man holds his blade to the neck of, what looks to him, a wolf-like monster who poses a threat to this village. Still, it's not as if he missed the woman talking to Arthur as though he was a friend, so he only keeps his sword there for now, as if waiting for permission to slit his throat.
The woman is grappling with her injuries, since all this fighting has absolutely not been good for any of them. She watches, a silent plea for things to work out.]
Arthur.
[But perhaps even she knows how this will end—
Especially since, with a roll of 5, desperation has fully taken over Arthur's mind. Pain blossoms in his abdomen, but even amidst it, he knows that he needs power. He needs to get rid of everyone in his way. His wounds aren't making that easy, but he can try and struggle nevertheless.]
[he's hurt and he's desperate and the combination makes him angry, angrier than a frightened reminder of his name can cure. he's trying to lunge at the man who holds the sword, fury in his eyes.
[Well. Arthur lunges, and the swordsman reacts both on instinct and deliberation, slicing Arthur's throat with his neck.]
... I'm sorry.
[As Arthur collapses, the woman comes closer, kneeling down on the ground by him.]
... You really deserved better than this, Arthur.
[Suffice to say, this is a fatal injury. But it's because death now takes a hold of Arthur, dragging his soul away, that finally, he starts to come to his senses. Just for a moment, hazy through the anger; just long enough for him to respond and die as himself, not as a monster.]
[all he feels once he realizes what he's done, the unchangeable damage he's wrought, is a deep, all encompassing guilt. he wonders if he might have preferred to slip away without understanding it all, but he's dimly aware that's a final moment of selfishness in a life too full of them.
he looks up towards her, and of course he's not angry. in fact:]
I didn't... deserve better.
[he never has, and it wasn't her fault. his last thought is a desperate hope that she knows this.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
[With what little strength she has right now, wounded but determined, the woman aims to stab Arthur in the gut, calling out as she does so.]
I know I can't exactly say, "let's talk this out, Arthur" right now, but come on—if you can hear me at all, give me a sign!
[It's all just more babble to him.]
no subject
no subject
The woman is grappling with her injuries, since all this fighting has absolutely not been good for any of them. She watches, a silent plea for things to work out.]
Arthur.
[But perhaps even she knows how this will end—
Especially since, with a roll of 5, desperation has fully taken over Arthur's mind. Pain blossoms in his abdomen, but even amidst it, he knows that he needs power. He needs to get rid of everyone in his way. His wounds aren't making that easy, but he can try and struggle nevertheless.]
no subject
i rolled a two lmao]
no subject
[As Arthur collapses, the woman comes closer, kneeling down on the ground by him.]
... You really deserved better than this, Arthur.
[Suffice to say, this is a fatal injury. But it's because death now takes a hold of Arthur, dragging his soul away, that finally, he starts to come to his senses. Just for a moment, hazy through the anger; just long enough for him to respond and die as himself, not as a monster.]
no subject
he looks up towards her, and of course he's not angry. in fact:]
I didn't... deserve better.
[he never has, and it wasn't her fault. his last thought is a desperate hope that she knows this.]
no subject
... Idiot. Don't say that.
[And that's the last thing Arthur hears, before he dies... and then, he wakes up.]