Damien
Damien’s circuit of the south wall gave him nothing—no trails, no gnawed stone, not even the stink of a nest. Which was its own kind of answer: if the rats weren’t here, they were somewhere else. He cast one last look at the base of the pillars, then turned back across the nave just as voices rose sharper than candlesmoke.
Theea sat a few pews down from a knot of worshippers, her words soft, but the older pair had stiffened, one fretting aloud, the other squinting as if he hadn’t caught a syllable. Damien exhaled through his nose, set his axe back against his shoulder, and crossed over. Not to take the reins from her, but because a dozen blind rodents the size of dogs were trouble enough without a panic stampede in the middle of the Temple.
As he reachedTheea, he laid a hand briefly against her shoulder—solid, quiet weight, enough to let her feel he was there—before shifting his stance behind her. His dark eyes fixed on the older couple.“No need to run,” he said, voice calm, like he was coaxing a spooked horse. “We’re here before the vermin get bold. Best thing you can do is clear out quiet. Take your time, but take the front steps. It'll be safer.”
His gaze flicked to Theea, a half-beat of reassurance before it settled back on the elders. He wasn’t built for charming words, but he knew how to project steadiness, how to anchor a room by standing still. If they needed something to trust, they could trust that.
Damien abandons his south-side search and moves to help Theea with the NPCs, aiming to calm them down and encourage them to leave the building quietly.
Theea sat a few pews down from a knot of worshippers, her words soft, but the older pair had stiffened, one fretting aloud, the other squinting as if he hadn’t caught a syllable. Damien exhaled through his nose, set his axe back against his shoulder, and crossed over. Not to take the reins from her, but because a dozen blind rodents the size of dogs were trouble enough without a panic stampede in the middle of the Temple.
As he reached
His gaze flicked to Theea, a half-beat of reassurance before it settled back on the elders. He wasn’t built for charming words, but he knew how to project steadiness, how to anchor a room by standing still. If they needed something to trust, they could trust that.
Damien abandons his south-side search and moves to help Theea with the NPCs, aiming to calm them down and encourage them to leave the building quietly.
i speak for the trees
and they hate you bro
and they hate you bro
