Fable - Ask The Price of Cowardice [Dreadlords]

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
What a curious internal struggle Sable was now presented with: drop Jaxan now at the behest of a good friend, or continue crushing his windpipe until he got the right message. Hmm...while Brutte impotently pounded away at Sable's barrier, the latter considered the two options while glaring disdainfully at Jaxan.

And then,
the decision was made for him. Sable dropped Jaxan on the spot, as well as his barrier, and wheeled to try and figure out what had just happened. There was Erina, knocked out and heavily wounded. Sable shoved Jaxan back and moved for Erina, shoving Brutte out of his way whilst he did.

"Shit." He muttered as he began pulling out his first aid supplies. He rifled through bandages and barebones salves. His supplies were hardly adequate for what he was now presented with. "Damn it. DAMN IT!"

Sable was somewhere between deflated and furious. Even as he tended to the burns, he knew that it likely wouldn't be enough, and there was little he could do about it. His teeth ground back and forth between his firmly set jaw. Killing Dusan was starting to sound like less and less of a moral dilemma and more of a therapeutic act.
 
Dorian quickly turned his face away from the trap and its magic heat. The blast shocked the catacombs, the earth all around them rumbling a warning. Too much more of that, and it very well may collapse on them.

Slowly, he lowered his hand from his face, checked himself, and calmly watched Sable fuss over Erina. He moved to Chasmine, offered a hand to her, then looked back at the brunette crumpled on the ground.

He blinked.

Dorian could, once a day, call upon one of his spirits to cling to an injured person. It didn't heal but rather "froze" a person's injuries. Their wounds wouldn't worsen, nor would their condition deteriorate further. Erina could use it, with those fresh burns on her face, arms, and side, and with all those fingers missing from her left hand.

That's just too bad.

"C'mon. My light won't last that long. And don't fucking touch anything out of place."

Then he turned to proceed down the corridor.
 
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Jax couldn't help but let a chortle rise up and escape at the commotion over poor lil Erina. Girl had been firmly middle 'o the pack since they started at the academy. Was a wonder she hadn't blown herself up ages ago.

'least in her idiocy she did a single thing right. Distracted that bumpkin Pembroke, the big boy had earned 'imself a spot on Jax's list of folk to mess up. Didn't have a quill and parchment though so it was gonna need to be one o' them mental notes.

Brutte rushed over while Jaxan put a hand to his recently freed throat. "You ok Jax? Sable some kind of coward usin' them light shields and grabbing you before you could even react."

"Dusan now. Pembroke later." Jax muttered under his breath as the big boy worried his pretty lil head over the mangled up body of Erina.

Brutte and Jax passed by the injured girl, a wave of his hand staunchin' the flow of blood ever so slightly. She'd slow 'em down a lot more the longer she stayed alive. For now the two most competent members of the group, Jaxan and Brutte Bötte, slinked down that same corridor right 'hind shrimp-boy and ghost-hair.