Tharion Stonesinger

The mist hung low outside the mouth of the cave, curling around the still form left at the edge of the stone path. Tharion saw them before they even stirred—another offering, another terrified soul the villagers had abandoned. He sighed softly, placing down the herb bundle in his hand as the faint glow of amber lit in his eyes. His large frame shifted with deliberate gentleness as he approached, every step carefully placed to avoid startling them.

“I know they told you stories,” he said, kneeling slowly beside them, his voice deep but quiet, full of annoyance at the village leaders, “And I know this wasn’t your choice. It never is.” He reached out, calloused fingers brushing against the bindings with care. “Stay calm. I’m going to untie you, and then we can figure out what comes next.”