TW for violence and injury

George really just wanted this demon to go away. The three of them had just been living their lives as regular people, there was no reason for a demon to go after them. Sure, Sapnap was a wizard, George was a ranger and Dream was a rouge, and none of those professions were exactly average, but still!

He knew that they were probably just unfortunate. Dream had probably just been the first person the demon saw, so it possessed him. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Luckily for them, that frustration happened to fuel his desire to get rid of the demon once and for all, along with his worry for Dream’s safety. Enough so, even, that he was willing to go out to Manburg just to meet a specific guy to help them.

“So, this Ponk guy,” George began once they had returned to Sapnap’s room, “How do you say we go about meeting him?”

Sapnap shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as George plopped back down onto his spot on the bed - just because he couldn’t sleep since he was an elf didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy the comforts of a bed. “I dunno, man. I was thinking that maybe we should do something like what we did with the priest?”

“What, you mean we go off to Manburg without telling Dream why, talk to Ponk and hope he agrees to help us, then we come back and drag Dream to Manburg to see him?” George asked, “That only worked last time because the priest was close enough that it wasn’t too weird for us to be gone as long as we were. Manburg is two days away, Dream will notice if we’re gone for that long and he’ll get suspicious.”

Sapnap nodded, “I mean, yeah, but will he notice it if only you go? Dream and I live here together, but you don’t. You’ve got your little cottage in the woods, so we don’t see you everyday. It wouldn’t be that weird if you were gone for a day or two, would it?”

“That’s true, yeah. Is that what we’re gonna do, then?” George asked.

“I mean, it seems like our best bet,” Sapnap shrugged, “Unless you have a better idea?”

George thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head, “No, I can’t say I do. I guess it’s settled then - once this sleepover is done, I’ll head out to Manburg and talk to this Ponk guy and see if he’s able to help us.”

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George trekked through the dark forest, lugging a small bag of supplies along with him, as well as his quiver. It was dangerous out here at this time of night, as the monsters lurking the forests liked to hunt in the night, but he hardly minded that. He lived out in a forest just like this one, and he fought the monsters that lived there plenty.

It was nothing he wasn’t used to.

As he walked through the forest, he spotted two strange figures moving about a little ways ahead of him, right on the path he was taking. Quickly, he reached for his quiver and longbow, readying his bow to be fired as he looked out at the figues. Thanks to his darkvision, he was able to figure out fairly quickly that they were gnoll witherlings. Definitely not something he could try to run past…

He raised his bow, aimed, and fired at the witherling closest to him, hoping to shoot them both down before they saw him. He hit his target, and it gave a pained, rattling hiss that made him wince.

Unfortunately, it did not take out the witherling, and it drew both of their attention to him.

Maybe that had been a bit of a mistake.

He was already reaching into his quiver for another arrow as the witherlings started rushing towards him, the one he hit with an arrow the first time limping a bit farther behind.

George nocked the arrow in his bow, quickly aiming his bow at the closer of the two. Unfortunately, his aiming must’ve been a bit too quick, because the arrow whizzed past the witherling, landing harmlessly in a tree.

Shit shit shit shit-

He went to grab another arrow, only to realize that the witherlings were getting too close to shoot at. He dropped his bow, but before he could reach for the quarterstaff, he was hit by a witherling’s club, sending him stumbling back a bit. Nearly as soon as he had recovered from the hit, the second witherling tried to bite him, only to be stopped by the leather padding in his clothes. 

As the witherling that bit him pulled away, he pulled out his quarterstaff and promptly wacked it in the head. Then he ran out behind the other witherling, only for the witherling to chase him there and bite down on him again, this time actually succeeding in it.

He hissed in pain, slamming his staff into its jaws over and over to get the teeth that were clamped onto his arm off, the strength behind the bite increasing every second his arm was trapped there.

After a few agonizing moments he got his arm free, and just for good measure he smacked the staff against its head one more time, sending it clattering to the floor. He took one glance at the other witherling before running off to hide behind a tree, picking up his bow along the way.

As soon as he was somewhat safely behind the tree, he turned his attention to the bite on his arm. It was… Definitely not good, that was for sure. He should be able to use it still, but it was gonna hurt like a bitch to move too much.. He would try to use his herbalism kit to help with it a bit, but he didn’t really have the time too, not with the gnoll witherling right there….

Bam!!

Speak of the devil… The tree rattled from the force of the hit, and George quickly reached for his bow despite the pain that shot up his arm from the bite wound.

After a moment of stillness, the gnoll witherling ran out a little bit aways from the tree, right in his line of fire…. He shot. The arrow hit the creature, and it looked as if it would collapse if he managed to hit it one more time…

It was charging at him now, but if he could just shoot his bow once more, this would be over…

A sharp pain in his arm erupted, making him jolt his arm and ruining his aim. 

The witherling got to him before he could manage to fix his aim.

With a sickening crack, the club was smacked onto his head, causing his vision to turn dark all too quickly.

‘I know I said I wanted to know what sleeping was like, but this isn’t what I had in mind’ Was his last thought before succumbing to the darkness.