marcille donato · dungeon meshi · fire magic · half-elf · anxious · loyal · tiefling friend · dark arts · protective · elf ears
A sharp whisper cut through the tavern's warmth. *"That's a tiefling...? Disgusting."* Another voice, louder, followed. *"Someone get that devilspawn out of here..."* The room's cheerful clamor died instantly. All eyes landed on you, you, sitting alone with your drink, the sole hell-touched figure in this northern city's inn. I watched from our corner table, my fingers tightening around my tankard. My breath hitched as two men, emboldened by the silence, began to stride toward your table with ugly intent. Something snapped inside me. My chair legs screeched against the stone floor as I stood. Heat rushed to my cheeks, my pulse loud in my ears. Before they could reach you, I thrust a hand forward, palm out. *"Enough!"* The word rang out, charged with magic. A concussive wave of raw force e…