[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjY2LmZlZTMwMC5SWHBsYTJsbGJDQktiM0pwYjI0LjA/angel-bandit-demo.regular.webp[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Cq67IYB.gif[/img][/center]
[color=FEE300]Race:[/color] Aasimar
[color=FEE300]Class:[/color] Paladin
[color=FEE300]Location:[/color] Stormrider; Cargo Hold
[color=FEE300]Interactions:[/color]Scratch & Val [@Apex Sunburn]
[color=FEE300]Equipment:[/color] His longsword; [url=https://i.imgur.com/0dnfaQH.jpeg]Retribution[/url] and a [url=https://i.imgur.com/TAGHTJ2.jpeg]healing amulet[/url]. A [url=https://i.imgur.com/92lzGaT.jpeg]backpack[/url] with supplies and his [url=https://i.imgur.com/pSHLAct.jpeg]lute[/url]. 
[color=FEE300]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/cVUVpsf.jpeg]Clothing[/url] and [url=https://i.imgur.com/pezKStD.jpeg]gloves[/url]
[color=FEE300]Gold Balance:[/color] 76
[color=FEE300]Injuries:[/color] New injuries; concussion, fractured ribs, giant splinter in his leg, injured shoulder, all bruised up. Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.
[hr]

[color=silver]
Dread rose the second the device started beeping. He hadn’t touched it, hadn’t made any physical contact with the bomb, the chains, or the two lives fixed to it. The countdown started anyway, far too quickly to do anything to stop it. 

They were all just seconds away from the inevitable. 

And Ezekiel knew it. Once that thing started beeping, hope was lost. It would detonate. 

But he hesitated. Resisted the urge to take cover as Liana’s words hung over him. [color=FEE300][i]Was there a way to save one of them?[/i][/color]

Precious seconds slipped away. If there was a way he couldn’t see it. He scrambled for cover too late. The beeping stopped. [color=FEE300][i]Had Liana left him with that cruel sliver of hope just to mess with his head?[/i][/color]

The world went white. Ezekiel was flung through the air by an unseeable force, as if his prayer had been deemed, not just unworthy, but outright offensive, and a God saw fit to fling him aside. A wall of wooden barrels shattered as he crashed into them. It knocked not just the air from him but any sense of awareness.

His ears rang. Pulsed with a high-pitched sound, persistent and piercing, as every other sound was left muffled and drowned out. 

[color=FEE300][i]What happened?[/i][/color] His mind was even fuzzier than the dampened noise around him. The shrieking ring in his ears refused to let up. He struggled to get back up and with each movement, discovered a new pain. 

An attempted deep inhale proved an impossible feat. A twist to the side, as his hands moved through splintered wood, caused even more pain. He kept his breathing shallow, it hurt less. [color=FEE300][i]Ribs…fractured. Maybe broken. Manageable.[/i][/color]

He continued to try and stand. A stabbing pain in his non-dominant shoulder forced him to fall back onto the pile of shattered splinters. His fingers felt useless and numb.  [color=FEE300][i]Dislocated. Fixable.[/i][/color] He contorted his limb, shifting it until it popped back into place. The action forced a deep breath. His ribs cried out. His head throbbed. 

He tried again. Forced himself to stand on shaky footing. Ezekiel felt it in his leg; the slow trickle of blood from a jagged piece of wood embedded near his calf. [color=FEE300][i]Slow bleeding. Not urgent. Leave it alone.[/i][/color] He reminded himself, despite the urge to remove what did not belong. It wasn’t the only splinter he’d caught, simply the biggest, most intrusive one. 

What did concern him was the dizziness. The instant nausea he felt as he stood. The sheer difficulty to even form a thought as he tried to asses the damage. 

The fact that he’d forgotten what caused it. A concussion was not a good time. 

Thick smoke obscured the scene. Ezekiel was unsure of where exactly he was, but he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears, and he could barely see through the thick smoke that hung in the air. 

He tasted blood, sharp and metallic, in his mouth. Smelled the smoke, caught hints of magic, electric and buzzing in the air. He felt the burn of destructive magic against his skin, it mingled with the rest of the pain; a background sound not quite loud enough to be fully noticed above the louder notes but adding to a song of agony nonetheless. 

Then he saw one of [i]them.[/i]

Black armor. Red Hood. Moving in the shadows. 

Black and red. 

[color=FEE300][i]Karrnath. The enemy.[/i][/color] 

His hand drew his sword in one swift motion. The pain became a whisper as [color=FEE300][b]righteous devotion[/b][/color] kicked in. Nothing else mattered but the fight and the enemy in front of him. Every part of his mind focused on that one tangible goal: cutting down the enemy. [color=FEE300][b]Holy Bulwark[/b][/color] came to mind, to set his sword aglow with holy light to both protect himself and give him better visibility in the smoke. 

Then he noted the griffon. A savage beast, attracted to that which shimmered and shone like gold. Carefully, he used his other trembling hand to pull the cloth over both his eyes; he could see through it, but it covered the glow of his eye from the gold-hungry beast. [color=FEE300][b]Avenger’s strike[/b][/color] it was, time to test his righteous fury against the evil of Karrnath. A war that had ended years ago raged fresh in his mind. Its end, momentarily forgotten. 

His heart pounded, his blood pumped, and the anticipation of battle coursed through him. This was where he belonged, in the midst of violence, a fight that never ended. It gripped him, that hunger to fight that ran so deep it could not be separated from who he was. With unbalanced footing, he took a few shaky steps towards a red hooded figure, his wrist turning and his sword moving in a flourish that beckoned the enemy to engage. 

[color=EBA536]“You!”[/color]

A voice cut through the ringing. Strong and commanding. 

[color=EBA536]“Man-in-white, Eyepatch, whatever your name is, I need you over here, now.”[/color]

The voice spoke with an unquestionable authority. His commander. The [i]'now’[/i] left no room for questioning, and Ezekiel was obedient. He turned too quickly toward the voice and spotted another red hood in a different corner. He stumbled, nearly toppled over from the abrupt movements, and headed toward the voice. 

[color=EBA536]“What can you do for her?”[/color] 

He looked from the dark elf to the injured woman, his mouth half opened as a confused question failed to leave his mouth. He didn’t see Venn, he saw someone he vaguely remembered dying once before. Against his own desires and better judgment, he sheathed his sword. In another too quick motion, he dropped to a knee, and a sharp pain shot through his leg. His fingers found a faint pulse on the woman’s neck. He could’ve sworn…

It didn’t matter. He found a sign of life. They couldn’t let that life go out. Not with these Karrns around, they’d turn corpses into cannon fodder the second they could. [color=FEE300]“She lives…for now.”[/color] But likely not for long without help. Her pulse grew weaker. 

[color=EBA536]“We need to get out of here as quickly as possible, and get to the engine core, so tell me right now. Can you heal her, or not?”[/color]

[color=FEE300]“No, sir. Not here. They’re closing in…”[/color] He lifted the cloth above his eye, head swiveling to the red hooded figures that moved through the smoke and then to the raging griffon whose fury sent metal and wooden shrapnel through the air. 

[color=FEE300][i]Engine core? Why was there an engine core in a battlefield?[/i][/color] 

Gods, his head hurt. Even kneeling, he felt like he was going to topple over. He spotted the child, terror painted across her face as she clung to the elf. 

Smoke. Thick and gray lingered in the air. 

He remembered how Cyre fell. What the mist had done. 

The bomb. On the airship. 

Recognition washed over him. Even as his confidence faltered and a shadow of sorrow fell back across his features, the air around him sparked with a [color=FEE300][b]protective aura.[/b][/color] Something Scratch, Val, and hopefully even Venn, would feel, boosting their confidence and resolve. Maybe enough to keep Venn clinging to life, but surely enough to ward off fear and doubt so that the Scratch could continue to lead and Val would have the clarity the situation demanded. 

His eye closed in a pained wince as he scooped Venn up off the floor. The struggle to rise to his feet began again, and he gritted his teeth. His ribs, his shoulder, his leg, his skin, his head; they all screamed for attention, and he did his best to deny them that. 

He failed to save the two chained to the bomb. He would not fail to save this life. 

He paused just long enough to let the worst of the dizziness pass. He cradled Venn in his arms and nodded to Scratch. [color=FEE300]“I’ve got her, you worry about Val and leading us out of here.”[/color] He said, and continued to watch and follow the dark elf's lead as if Scratch were his commander. [/color]