"Don't move! Don't breathe loud, don't even speak!" Timur said as he was lying against the nearest wall of a small,l rundown building. Though they were barely at the rim of the Bastos March, having somewhat escaped the Hell Hounds, they managed to find themselves in an even worse situation.
The four of them were herded into this region, a region that seemed to be cursed with something they didn't read nor know of. But it was all too real in front of them. The moon was bleeding power so unholy even the priest with them was not able to use her holy powers properly to heal their friend.
"This is the last of our potions," Timur said as he pulled a small lackluster-looking health potion.
"Just…" the rogue spoke with strained breaths, "Keep it… it won't help much…" he said.
"keep quiet, they'll hear us," the Barbarian said, though he was more panicked than any of them as he cradled his head with his own hands, terror clear in his heart and eyes.
