He knelt beside the stream, his crossbow still shouldered as his eyes scanned the tree line on the other side. With each breath he could still feel the pain shoot from his side, hearing the slight creaking of his ribs moving.
The birds sang and darted from tree to tree, this place seemed full of life. Such beauty and tranquility. He slowly lowered his crossbow and began to remove his gear, placing it it beside a hollowed stump. Sliding his boots off carefully before setting foot in the cool water. Wading out up to his waist before taking a quick dip and coming back up to cool himself from the heat.
It had been some time since he had last bathed, as if the scent hadn't been obvious the copious amounts of dirt, stood, blood and other various foreign material that had managed to be crammed into every nook and cranny of his body over these several weeks certainly was.
He looked over his shoulder, examining the newly printed runes upon his shoulder. After his run in with the rangerling Laluimir. All he could do is simply remember the words she spoke about the rune in the book they had found in the orcish camp of simple spells and tricks the shamans used.
All the things that had happened, everything that seemed to find him or him stumble upon it in some way or another. The Raven, Uial. Guiding him to this wretched place and beyond. The strange house that had been carved intricately into a cave obviously not of natural make. Something seemed, off.
Pellam stood silent, listening to his surroundings. The birds had grown quiet, the forests grew still. A familiar voice piercing the silence and sending a darkened chill into his bones.
"Hello, little brother."
