Von's breath was heavy as he set Borik gently on the cold stone floor, laying him on his side near the torchlight. The flickering fire danced across the wounded dwarf's pale face, revealing how much blood he'd already lost. The crude puncture wounds in his limbs where the spirit had pinned him were still bleeding freely, dripping down the wall and soaking into his clothes.
Von pressed his hand against Borik's chest, trying to keep him still. "Your wounds are getting worse," he said, his voice low, grim. "You're losing too much blood... I have to do something."
Borik let out a faint groan, his face contorted in pain. "D-Do what you must…" he rasped, barely audible, his voice dry and cracked.
