Paladin (or cleric) whose relationship with their deity has gotten kind of weird.
Things hadn't been going great, but now they were worse.
So much worse.
Lena was down, bleeding a growing ocean from a ghastly tear in her back, showing way too many things that should never see the light of day.
Dying, and Mikhal couldn't do anything about it.
He was standing over her prone body, trying to block the attacks from the minotaur they'd surprised, but it wouldn't be long before he too'd succumb to the relentless, arm-deadening heavy strikes that were chipping away at his shield, his sword long since broken and useless. Lena's breathing was growing shallower, more laborious, and if she died here...
The paladin kept sending up a steady stream of prayers to Lentino, his deity, but for some reason he kept getting a busy tone... until without warning, he found himself seated at an unfortunately very familiar table.
"Ah. There he is. Didn't I tell You I could rustle up a fourth, lads? Say hello to My paladin, Mikhal."
"My Lord. Respectfully. What the fuck?!"
"Oh don't be a whiner, Mikhal. You were more than happy to play last week."
"I wasn't in the middle of a fight last time! Lena is dying, and you weren't answering! Because of... this?!"
An awkward moment of silence. A petulant thunderclap, off to Mikhal's left. "There. Can we play now?"
Mikhal blinked as reality stuttered, and Lena was sitting next to him, on a chair that hadn't been there before. Hale. Unhurt. Freaking out. "Mik, what's happening?!" she hissed. "That big brute got me, I could feel my life leak out of me, and now..." She gripped his arm, hard, but it didn't hurt. "Am I dead?"
"No. Well... yes. But it's not permanent." Mikhal whispered back. He patted her hand. "Don't worry. It's not my first time."
A breezy, lilting voice, off to their right. "Wait, does that mean We need to find a sixth now?"
"I'm not waiting any longer. There's a juicy war being fought in My name."
Lentino quickly interjected "That won't be necessary. I'm sure Mikhal's... friend will be happy to sit this one out."
Mikhal straightened and looked at the deities at the table. Or at least in their general direction, where he sensed their Presence. "Your Worships." Nodded at his god opposite the table. His partner for this weekly card game he'd somehow been roped into again, even though his deity had promised him it would be 'just this one time', now five weeks ago. "Okay. Who's dealing first?"
