#hooooray suffering

[whomuses]

He felt the wash of the magic, but it didn't do anything except a moment of comforting warmth. There was nothing it could heal, nothing that would work right now, the karsite weave gnawing at him; it felt like his heart was stuttering, it's life being pressed upon by the orb in his chest. Each breath hot and sharp in his lungs, his eye burning, arm throbbing. He couldn't even see properly, the fear with it's fangs into him.

"I - I don't know -" he wheezed out, terror heavy in his tone, eyes flickering rapidly as he tried to look up at Honor. The purple light shone from his pupil and sclera, blackened both, the lines that sliced through his face mimicking even if in a far paler form. He hesitated, but reached out anyway. Immediately the orb was grasping hungrily at the locket, tugging the atoms of it into his chest. The lights died back but the pain - Gods, the pain remained.

Slumping down, Gale curled into a ball, wondering if this was it. He was to die, and the orb would detonate, it would all be over… "I'm so sorry -" he rasped, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Honor had been covering the back line well, with slung spells of healing and the odd bit of charisma-infused magic that both aided his allies and made their enemies' lives so much more difficult. A sharp epithet struck down a small, injured enemy encroaching on their position, but when they looked up to provide more support all they saw were ashes and bodies and a falling wizard.

"Gale!" A worried noise from somewhere behind Gale, the tiefling running up with quiet steps and a sharp-nailed hand over the wizard's shoulder. "Te Curo," they incanted the words for Cure Wounds with smooth notes that came out a bit ragged with the speed of the spell. Ribbons of blue energy went searching for injuries to heal, though Honor suspected they may find none. "Are you alright? Do you need to eat more magic or something of the like?"

He could heal, and he knew intimately how to inflict pain- but the reduction of it or anything other than basic battlefield triage Honor found nigh impossible. The bard tugged hard at a chain around his own neck, allowing the locket to break off before offering it to Gale.