The skies darkened very quickly. A chill could be felt as a slight breeze swept across the forest every once in a while. The small fire continues to flicker and is the main light source in the clearing.
The adventurers had set up a simple rotation where one would go on watch at a time while the rest slept. They would rotate every few hours.
For the first watch, one of the tanks stood guard. He gripped his weapon firmly. His eyes scanned the forest. His breathing was steady. However, he felt incredibly stiff. Much more stiff than usual. He could also feel a headache that would slowly weigh more and more on his forehead.
This must be just fatigue. He consoled himself that it was normal and just exhaustion.
Nearby, Feng Ye slept lightly. He awoke as he sensed some movement. He glanced at the man standing watch. Strange. Something seemed wrong with him.
The tank's stance was too stiff. His breathing seemed slow.
Feng Ye became lost in thought. Wasn't his wound treated?
A few hours later, the cleric awoke and approached the tank for her shift change. She couldn't help but notice the beads of sweat on the tank's forehead.
"Are you alright?" she asks.
The tank replies, "I think it's just a headache and might be due to exhaustion. Should be fine." He brushed it off.
The cleric frowned but didn't inquire for more detail. A headache should be a symptom of exhaustion she reasoned.
Suddenly, a branch snapped.
The tank turned his head in the direction of the sound and his body jolted in response. He lifted his giant shield and surveyed the area.
The cleric also fully alert looked around the surroundings as well. Her stance was ready to support at any moment.
A knife suddenly flew through the air. It was directed at the cleric.
The tank moved, but lower than he should. He was able to block the dagger with his shield. But a second dagger immediately followed the first and grazed his shoulder. It was a very shallow wound. Not a big deal.
However, if his reflexes weren't stiff, he should have been able to block that second dagger.
Two figures emerged. Bandits. They were able to track them all the way to here. Their eyes were filled with greed and desperation.
"Heh, finally found you."
The tank yelled, "Enemy attack!"
The entire camp awoke and were in battle array. Anne grabbed her wand. The warriors grabbed their blades. The other tank awoke and picked up his shield. Feng Ye stood with his blade ready. Lucas nearby grabbed his staff and watched the situation critically.
The tank was already in motion. He charged with his massive shield raised and sword drawn.
Something was off. His legs felt heavy and he suddenly had to catch his breath. This was abnormal. Regardless, he continued to engage one of the bandits. The bandit took out another dagger and lunged.
The bandit slashed over and over again. The tank was able to block the onslaught of cuts that had approached. His movements were sluggish and were much slower than earlier in the day. His sword swings lacked power behind it.
The second bandit tried to flank the camp from behind. Lucas conjured a flame forcing him back.
The tank took a step forward with the goal of shield-bashing the bandit.
His knee suddenly gave out and he lost his balance.
Anne's eyes widened. "He's not just tired! Quickly support!"
It was too late. The bandit seized the opportunity and broke the tank's guard. He pierced the tank's stomach.
"Too slow." the bandit sneered. The tank let out a chilling shout. The cleric ran forward with a green gentle glow trying to heal his injury. Anne rushed forward chanting.
The tank was shocked. His reflexes shouldn't be this slow. A realization hit.
Poison. A slow-acting poison that had been slowly building up within him. His legs suddenly gave way. However, he refused to fall. He forced himself up while gripping his shield and sword. He mustered all his remaining strength to tackle to bandit in front of him. He pinned the bandit to the ground and burned his blade into the bandit's heart.
Meanwhile, the second bandit which drew back from Lucas' flame lunged at Feng Ye. Feng Ye sidestepped and cut him down.
The adventurers all rushed to the fallen tank. Anne and the cleric rolled the tank on his back. Gentle green spells formed an envelope around his body.
"It's going to be okay, we can overcome this.."
The tank was very clear of his condition. He shook his head. He leaned forward towards Anne and the cleric and whispered his last words.
"Continue to fight. Face forward."
His fingers loosened and his body slowly began to become cold.
Everyone became silent. No one spoke. The cleric looked around at the tank's wounds. The flesh around some older wounds that had been sealed up had darkened and had some dark patches forming.
It was poison. A poison that had been applied many hours prior. No one noticed in time.
The cleric clenched her fists and blamed herself. "If only I noticed earlier…"
Anne placed a hand on the cleric's shoulder, but there was nothing to say.
The other tank walked over and sighed. "We can't take him with us. Let's give him a proper burial."
Everyone was too tired to argue. They buried him under a tree with a crude grave. No funeral. No parting words. No time to grieve.
They broke up camp and had to relocate. Traces of this fight may attract unwanted guests such as scavengers, beasts, or bandits.
Everyone remained silent as they continued to make their journey to the southeast. No one looked back. This was the fate of an adventurer. Life was fleeting and death was common.
In this world, surviving to see the next sunrise was all that mattered.
Only five adventurers remain. With heavy hearts and weary steps, they continue to walk forward. The road ahead does not wait.