“Ready?”

“Of course.”

“I have this!”

The tiefling raced to the dragonborn, his sword raised. The battle shifted around them as they began to fight.

The dragonborn snarled. She wanted to fight the leader, not a mere soldier. She pulled out a dagger with her free hand, a desire to quickly end this and move on to her goal.

The tiefling’s mind raced around one thought. Give his captain time to grab the jewel. The last piece to the spell that would get them all home.

He felt the dagger’s bite before he could see the black blade. The pain shot through his leg, making him lose his balance for just a moment. But he still moved to keep in front of the dragonborn. He had to stop her.

It was then he felt the poison as a fire spreading under his skin. His hand shook as he continued to fight. Gritting his teeth, he aimed for the dragonborn’s side. One shot.

As soon as the sword made contact, he shouted the spell. The dragonborn’s eyes widened as she recognized the words. The dagger swung out again, a desperate aim for the throat.

But the last word was spoken. The dragonborn froze, her breathing heavy. She grimaced as the air around her thickened, the vibrations reaching her bones. “Damn you.”

“Not yet.” The tiefling looked over his shoulder as his captain called out, the jewel in his hand. He smiled, then felt his body start to fall.

“I have you. We’re going.”

As they dragged the tiefling toward the captain’s position, the cleric opened the bottle of healing potion one-handed. With a too-oft practiced flick, the contents slid down the tiefling’s throat. The cleric let the bottle fall and wrapped both arms around the limp form. “Almost there.”

“Can this truly be called a win? Mine is not damaged.”

“But it was stopped. And mine escapes.”

“I shall remember this.”