Gareth Dorne - Prologue
"Just a bit further and you'll make it," Gareth repeated in his head over and over as he crawled across the dirt path. Again, he placed one arm forward and heaved his body along. His armor suffocated him. His body grew numb. His blood stained the ground. Although he lay dying, the stagnant trees of the Koccari wilds answered only with mute apathy. In all honesty, his plight seemed quite hopeless; however, he was determined to inch forward before the darkness finally consumed him. The closer he got to camp, the better his chances of being found.
The more his vision dimmed, the more hope diminished. Still, the length of crimson trailing grew behind him with every stretch forward."It's not just you," he tried to remind himself, "There are others that need to know. They need to be warned of the darkspawn." The reminder of the situation failed to make his pains go away, or make his pace improve.
Finally, he succumbed to exhaustion. His limbs, battered from his narrow escape and aching from repeated abuse, failed him. Submitted to his fate, he let his head rest on the damp earth. Gareth Dorne inhaled his apparent last breath. Then, footsteps. Voices. With what was his last breath, he mustered the energy to shout; though, it came out as a strangled croak, "Help...Over here!"
Whoever these travelers were, they heeded his call and approached him. They spoke to each other, but either they were too quiet or his perception had decayed to a borderline deafness. As the moments passed, two of the individuals seemed to bicker with each other. In a desperate attempt to move things along, he tried to clarify for minimal aid, "I...don't need much help, just some bandages to get me going." Even as Gareth choked out his request, he felt his lungs deflate. Whatever these strangers did, they had gone the extra mile. He began to feel the bleeding stop; and a soothing feeling washed over him, turning burning pains into mild aches. Though his vision remained blurred, he was able to push himself up, straining as it was. Forced into a limp, he gave his thanks as quickly as possible and continued along, determined not to be sidetracked.