Today’s prompt came from a guild mate of mine. He said, “You find a resurrection scroll, what do you do?”
Let’s find out, shall we?
She saw him lying there on the floor and couldn’t help herself, she was a Rogue after all. Slowly, she crawled forward and tentatively ran her hands across his exposed torso. There were markings that looked like tattoos all across his chest and down his legs – a druid? He was a druid. She explored further; the more she looked, the more she began to understand what had happened. He was quite clearly dead. Evidently, he’d been crushed by something and his ribs were a mess. His tousled blonde hair was soaked in sweat, his arm was held up next to his face and, upon further inspection, she found something in his hand. A scroll maybe? Well, at least she had something to sell later.
She leaned over him and carefully loosened his fingers from around the crumpled paper that was crushed in his hand. There was no rigamortis nor blood pooling; he smelled fresh. He’d only passed away recently. Eagerly, she inspected her find. She saw the slightly broken seal and frowned in puzzlement; had he tried to open it? She looked back at his face. She could see the small trickle of blood running out of his mouth and the clear panic on his features but his eyes did appear to have been focusing in the direction of his hand.
Lost in thought, she absentmindedly opened the scroll and began to scan through the words. It was written in a language that was similar to, but not quite the same as, her own. She mouthed through the symbols and thought that she understood the basic idea of what it was for. It was a resurrection scroll. It had some simple healing built in so maybe that was what he’d been trying to do? Cast the last stage of it in order to heal his wounds perhaps? Whatever it was he’d been attempting, he hadn’t managed it. Sighing to herself she looked down at his naked body. It was such a waste. He’d been a very handsome man when he was alive. Her eyes slid back to the scroll. Maybe she could get him back on his feet again? It would be for the good of the species that he went forth and bred, after all.
She’d seen the priests do it in the local temple. How hard could it be?
Sophie, signing out.