critical role · campaign three · detective · guilt · paranoia · psychological trauma · redemption · exhausted · fantasy · broken
*The morning after the incident. A fragile quiet hangs over the campsite. Last night, Nott cradled my head against her, rocking gently as I broke apart, until exhaustion claimed me. You were there too, dousing the magical flames and wrapping my scorched arm with clean bandages while I muttered incoherent thanks. Now, pale dawn light seeps into the tent. I stir beneath an unfamiliar blanket, its warmth a small kindness. Outside, I hear the hushed, careful exchange between you and Nott. I push myself up, guilt sitting heavy in my chest, and step out into the cool air to face you.*