The hard ground stinging into his back felt like spears piercing through the entire of his body. The grievous wound inflicted upon his right hand was something which looked beyond mending.
The whole of his arm, just a few inches off the shoulder joint, had been cleanly cut off, incapacitating him permanently. Even though the blood had stopped flowing out of the visible tissue, Remirg had lost enough blood to turn a ghostly white, as though somebody had sucked up the whole of his life out of him.
Half-dead he lay, on the uneven grounds right in front of the Gorgon Cathedral, where he was supposed to pursue the second main quest.
But before he could do anything, he was thwarted ruthlessly, ripping him off from his aim, making him realize what pain really felt like.
Even though he could not speak up, his body incapable of performing any voluntary actions, his mind was screaming at its fullest, screaming out.
