Ｍ ｉ ｌ ｏ
grey warden || male || dwarf || adult || warrior
location;; tagged ;;
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Milo placed one foot carefully in front of the other as he approached the table, his gaze even and dark. The dwarf waited, watching as his other unfortunate companions reached for the viles, expressions mixed with fear and anxiousness. Eyes trailing back to the table, he stepped forwards, reaching out and grabbing the delicate glass with rough, calloused hands. Holding it like it was some precious gem, he grimaced, gaze trailing upwards to the Warden Commanders. A few were watching, but the so-called mage named Tala had her eyes averted. After a moment or two, he turned back and weaved through the crowd until he was near the back. Carefully, he popped off the cork and gave a long sigh. Milo decided he'd just be lucky enough if this tiny amount of blood was enough to send him to the Stone. At least, he would be home. Throwing his head back, he placed the cold glass to his lips and drained back the liquid. Suddenly, he started choking, as it burned all the way down. The vile dropped out of his grasp, his once steady fingers unable to hold it anymore. Dropping to his knees, he grasped blindly for his throat, his lungs were collapsing on him. His eyes rolled back and his vision burned bright white, a blinding light in front of him. Slipping from his conscious thoughts, he fell forward onto the hard stone and began to dream.
When he woke, he gasped for breath, coughing and panting. The visions he had seen in his head were ones of unimaginable pain, suffering and destruction. He was sure the other recruits who had survived had witnessed the same. If he had even survived. Maybe this was a trick of the mind? Was everything real? He wiggled his finger tips, sitting up slowly. Unconsciously, he pulled at his beard and ran his hand back through his golden hair. Everything was suddenly coming back to him, the world soon stopped spinning. He sensed a cruel, dark malice filling the air, something he had never noticed before. Was this the Blight? Truly, it must have been. His eyes flashed to the table a few viles still remaining, and they seemed to be...whispering? Milo shuddered, the taint really was inside of him, but he seemed to be controlling it. Standing to his feet, he looked around, a few people laying on the floor, struggling to get up, others unmoving, their chests neither rising or falling. "What cruel fate have they bestowed upon us?" he mumbled, turning in a small circle as he looked around.
