The Death Of A Gunslinger [Critical Role]

Percival

He was down.

His murderer was dead, her body desecrated and absolutely destroyed.

Vex'ahlia fell to her knees, Fenthras discarded. Ripley was gone. But Percy couldn't be. He couldn't be. A white glow surrounded her hands as she tried to heal him.

His chest stayed unmoving.

"Pike!" She yelled, temporarily forgetting her gnomish friend wasn't there.

"Percy!" She was crying. "Come on Percy, you can't be dead!" She was hugging his body. His glasses were cracked, blood was soaking through his tattered white shirt. "Percival." She sobbed.

A hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up at her brother. Soon all of her family surrounded her. Vax helped her up, pulling her into a deep hug.

"Vax. . ." She hiccuped.

"Shhhh. It's okay Stubby."

"I . . . I didn't even get to tell him how I really felt."