Snippet #2688614

Una knew who had urged the creatures to move from their eternal rest. It could have only been House Traegar; a house well known for their dabbling into magics that were sinister and dark. The King had not yet outlawed the practices but the Holy Order of Clerics frowned upon it heavily. Inquisitors were sent often to the Traegar's keep.

The King would hear what had happened this day.

"It was House Traegar, and no I cannot heal myself." Una said with some impatience. Human clerics were forbade to heal themselves unless it was a life or death situation. Otherwise it would be abusing their gifts from the gods, and a slight against the Order. Una once believed that this was common knowledge but perhaps not, she thought to herself silently.


Sterk...?

"Is Sterk your god then?" Una asked curiously. She knew nothing of orcs and their culture. The only information Una had on their race was that they were brutes that valued strength and battle prowess. They tended to raid and pillage more than anything else and had not developed complex societal standards.

The cold of the rain began to sink into Una's bones and she shivered. Listening to whatever explanation Oaklum offered, Una insisted that he continue to help her to the inn at Krinsgate. She took his offered hand and helped to lift herself from the ground. An almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips.

Oaklum was more than likely going to carry her again.