Blood hit the stone before he realized he was coughing.
It came up thick and dark, splattering across his gauntlet and the broken rampart beneath him. Each breath scraped, shallow and uneven, as if his lungs were lined with ash. The armor had taken the worst of the blast. Runes had flared. Plates had held.
In conjunction with his high Vitality stat, he felt that his exterior suffered no serious wounds.
But his insides had.
He pressed a hand to his chest and felt nothing steady there. Only heat and a dull, spreading numbness that made it hard to tell where pain ended and weakness began.
His name was Captain Albrecht Vayne.
Guard Captain of the Eastern Bastion. Third son of a minor house. Veteran of six border wars. He had been promoted to his current rank by Tharion Ravenshade himself after more than six hundred years of excellent service in the army.
