#dr.gregoryswiftdawn

Tarenor sat up from the small hill of furs that covered him and the floor of his tent at Stonefang Outpost. Sweat covered him and pain stabbed like daggers into his leg stronger then it has in hours. Tarenor cursed himself for not waking up sooner as he placed his hand on the already formed scar that rests on his right thigh. The spells are lasting shorter and shorter.. already the prayers and incantations formed on his lips as his hand radiated a faint glow around his hand and spreading to his thigh enveloping the body part.

After a moment he released the pain suppressive spell but let out a exhausting gasp, the spells were taking it's toll. and with no Sunwell his faith can only go so far He sat there for moments that seemed like ages massaging the leg and looked outside knowing he's not going to sleep again tonight. Well... least it's bearable again... for now.

Tare slipped on his armored boots and plate-robe and walked into the blistering cold. So much has happened and so much more will. Already images flashed across his mind of the Bladespire and Bloodmaul ogres and the Highguard's plans to weaken them, and the upcoming incursion to weaken Alliance Holdings in Talador. Everything required his attention.

Yet his mind turned to other things. Silane was still missing, his last apprentice, lost somewhere in the Alliance torn Spires He'd go search himself but with his leg he'd not make it through the first Adherent warband he came across. The thought make his ears go limp for a moment, before seeing a few Stonefang night's watch pass by. He grimanced and limped to one of the Bonfires.

He attempted to think on the things he's thankful for, those that were found despite the chaos and slaughter at the portal, for the successes so far on the alien world, for Zalaena. He started to smile before he forgot he wasn't paying attention and tripped on a spear buried in the snow.

Miliseconds later he fell hard on his knees sending a hard reverberation up his leg to his thigh where the splinters were. Pain racked him for a moment as Tarenor knelt there letting out a silent scream.

All he could see was red and white. and in a burst of rage punched the nearby cliff side repeatedly. The colors lifted and he sat there panting raggedly. but something was different... The pain is not so bad..

Tarenor looked up at the cliff side in front of him and saw why, blood dripped from where he had punched and the pain in his knuckles finally came to him. he looked at his knuckles and saw them gnashed and bloody... it hurt but his leg was better and for a moment that was all that mattered. he shook his head clearing away the freezing tears of rage from his eyes so he could inspect his hand. Nothing broken atleast.