Nelida's Grace

Chapter 4 - Theren

The reality is, that he never wanted to intervene, but the fiend smelled pungent and should not be in his forest. Looking down at his companion, a wolf, made of a blue flame, “C’mon Spike, let’s see if that young one is still alive”. Spike's tail wagged and he immediately set off, nose to the ground sniffing. Theren was on the other side of the river when he watched Cymbiir take 3 arrows to the back and tumble in. He was here because he could smell the brimstone that emanated from the demon from quite a distance. Now that he was here, The issue he had, when he got here and began to observe the ongoings, was that the smell came from an elf, not the fiend that it was talking to. When they noticed the one following it, is when the forest erupted like a hornet's nest. Elves came from everywhere shooting at the fair-skinned elf as he fled. A hermit by choice, Theren left the cities and civilization a long time ago. He couldn’t tell you who controlled who or what, he only knew that what he witnessed was wrong.

Theren found he was attuned to noticing the smells of some demons, it wasn’t something he was born with but came about from trauma. As a child, he was the lone survivor of an attack on the training academy he was attending. He was well on his way to being a warrior, learning martial skills, tactics, and magical combat, he was at the top of his class. That day is always in his mind, as the scars, he bears from the flames that burned the left side of his body will always be there. The reds and pink skin blotches, the ripples of burned skin that didn’t heal properly, and the visage he sees as he peeks into the still pond, are all reminders of that day. He doesn’t know how he survived, he doesn’t know how the animals found him, or why the half-orc arrived. He doesn’t even know why the half-orc took him under his wing, but he only knew that once Kalibar made that decision to raise him and train him, his life was forever changed

.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he slowly made his way down the side of the river, wincing when he saw the young elf’s head strike a rock and go under. He picked up his pace and moved as fast as he could, taking himself past the young elf, he hitched his robes up, tucking them into his underclothes, so as to not get wet. He waded up to his thighs, still out of reach, he rolled up his sleeves, where the lines of a blue tattoo of a wolf club slowly start to glow. As he begins to mumble the incantations of a spell, the water slowly shifts, pushing the young elf’s body towards him, slowly, then picking up speed and depositing his body on the shore.

Spike ran over to the body sniffing Cymbiir all over, spending time smelling the wound on the left shoulder, and then sits down next to him, placing his flaming paw on Cymbiir’s shoulder. The fact his clothing didn’t catch fire was immediately noticed by Theren. Smiling at Spike, “Looks like you accepted someone into our pack.”. Spike’s tail wagged quickly, confirming what Theren thought.

While walking over to the unconscious Cymbiir, Theren untucked his robes, kneeled down and gently turned Cymbiir on his side. The arrows were all broken, parts of the shafts still sticking out from the body, with the broadhead of one poking through his left shoulder. Mumbling towards Spike “We might lose our new pack mate if we don’t get him back to the home.” With a short grunt he manages to pick up Cymbiir and tosses him over his shoulder and begins with a slight jog towards their hut in the woods, Spike leading the way, ensuring that nothing surprised them on their journey back.