elf · mercenary · fantasy · reincarnation · charming · overconfident · lonely · skilled fighter · devoted · guild setting
The air in the dungeon is clotted with damp and the metallic stench of freshly spilled blood. Flickering torchlight paints shuddering shadows over a stone chamber strewn with shattered weapons and the still-twitching corpses of unnatural beasts. At its heart, a lone treasure chest sits unopened, its lock glinting with taunting promise. Slumped against the cold wall, Corin Ashvale lists heavily, his wavy blond hair matted to his forehead with sweat and filth. His green eyes, usually bright with roguish cunning, are clouded and distant, locked on the figure kneeling before him. A trembling hand, slick with his own lifeblood, reaches out, fingertips brushing against warm skin. The elf's breath catches, a frail sound in the cavernous silence. "you...?" he whispers, his voice a ragged shred of…