“It’s too late…” Ro’liath rasped as Tevruden tried desperately to repair the wounds with his necromancy and blood magic. He’d been hit by a toxin that ate at dead flesh, the poison spreading through him like wildfire in a matter of seconds. He could feel the familiar sensation of warmth as ichor bubbled in his throat, “Don’t stop it…” He pushed against the larger knight’s hand weakly, “I’m glad… this time, I died in your arms…”