He sheathed the sword
and carefully picked her off the floor. She felt heavy. With such a figure, she
couldn't be. He tried to decide whether it was the effect of that wound or he
was always this weak. Either way, it was yet another thing to add to his pile
of concerns.
He moved to the
stairwell. Limping while carrying someone was far less pleasant than when doing
so alone. Life is cruel, he thought. Now, how hard could it be to get down to
the street?
He yawned again. That
spell certainly complicated things. Hw long could he resist it? Not for very
long, surely.
Step by painful step
he progressed. A few of them later he started to breathe heavily. A couple more
steps made curses join the breathing.
And to his terror, his
eyes resisted opening them. He felt dizzy, tired and hurt. So terrible. On a
positive note, he almost made it to the bottom. Just a little more effort and
he will have made it.
Five. Then four. He
yawned. It was a monstrously long yawn. Three steps. The world spinned out of
control. He forced himself down one more step. Just two left. He leaned against
the wall. He was so tired. One more...
But he couldn't get
his leg to move. Sleep was overwhelming him. He shut his eyes and let it
settle. Then, he saw darkness.
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