#techno's chat is a divine proxy between him and the blood god

[honeyblockm]

DnD au where Techno's a [half orc] cleric and Phil's a [fallen aasimar] warlock. I'm thinking about it. I probably also butcher some mechanics but shhhh sorry nerds.

In the waning energy of the fight, Philza goes down, one crossbow bolt lodged between his ribs. The enemy has another attack, and Techno can only watch in blind terror as it sinks into his friend's unmoving form.

He's too far away to make it in one turn, even sprinting the whole way, even taking opportunity attacks as he cuts a clear line across the battlefield. The enemy raises their sword again, stabs downward just out of Techno's range. There's a sickening crack as it cleaves straight through the chest and just like that, Phil's dead.

Techno covers the last few feet with a howl of rage and in an instant his spirit hounds are on the killer, tearing away at what lifeforce they have left while Techno drops to his knees beside Phil.

He looks messed up, bits of blood and bone gleaming under the sun, skeletal wings bent at odd angles. His eyes are open, translucent as the necrotic shroud starts the wear off. Techno doesn't let himself linger much longer on the appearance of Phil's corpse.

The diamonds are where he's always stored them, in a pouch that never leaves his person. That doesn't the flicker of fear that rises as he scrambles for it, though, because what if it fell off and what if they're not there because the time window for this kind of thing is so, so small and the clock's already ticking. A murmur and a twist of his fingers has the glittering jewels breaking down into dust, smeared across both his palms until they almost seem to glow and this is just the first part of the spell, the easiest part.

Techno raises both hands, calling the incantation to mind, and realizes how badly his arms are shaking. His tongue slips on a word and the glow that has been slowly building on his palms- refracting diamond dust in streaks of rainbow -flickers, and god if that doesn't elevate his panic he doesn't know what will. Techno takes a shaky breath and tries his hardest to keep going.

This type of stuff was never his strong suit- summoning divine weapons and impenetrable shields and guardians made of snapping teeth and a taste for blood was second nature, but this healing stuff? At best he can toss out a healing word, keep himself and his allies on their feet just a moment longer.

But there's a reason he asked to learn revivify, a reason he poured all those hours into puzzling over the spell with the voices, a reason he keeps diamonds in excess and never considers spending a single one. And this moment is what all of it's been for but he stutters again and he can't keep his hands still enough to form the next somatic component and he can't screw this up because then that means Phil stays dead and that is an unacceptable possibility. (Or he comes back wrong. Chat was vague when Techno asked what wrong meant so he assumes the worst.)

His head is spinning, chat is shouting an incomprehensible mess of numbers that he assumes to be the time he has left, and Techno feels two hands grab his, a presence at his back a moment later.

Cold floods his bones. Not the biting winds of the tundra but something deeper and softer. Her grip on his wrists are gentle, fingers pressed on his pulse point and the back of his hand a grounding force.

The midday sun seems to go out, just for a moment.

Techno doesn't see anything but he still recognizes who it is all the same- Phil's patron, a deathless not-god who dotes on her champion and sends him on downright suicidal quests in the same breath. This time, though, she's whispering the incantation with Techno, folding his fingers in to the right shapes, pushing his open palms toward the hole in Phil's chest.

There is flash of light, bright rainbow exploding in all directions, and Phil's patron is gone before it can fully fade. Phil, on the other hand, blinks the last of the inky darkness from his eyes and breathes and everything is alright again.