Wrenn sat cross-legged and deep in thought. The woodland glade he faced housed a small shrine to Melora, where his family had worshipped for generations. On the other side of the clearing a pair of children were playing together, at around 8 years old they were already taller than Wrenn – half orcs grow a lot faster than gnomes.
The pine cone that the children were kicking around suddenly sailed over towards Wrenn and his small pile of books and papers. He smiled at their worried faces – his reputation as a loner combined with the wild imaginations of youth had lead to rumours: “Don’t go near that Wrenn, he’ll set the animals on you” or “That Wrenn’ll put a curse on you if you touch his books”.
Leaning over, Wrenn picked up the cone and tossed it back towards the children. They watched pensively as it came to a halt by their feet, then quickly ran away. He Laughed to himself. The half orc children in Benklur were especially superstitious, no doubt they were off to tell their friends how they had narrowly avoided being cursed.
Wrenn snapped back to the present. The piercing noise of an infant filled his ears, the chaos around him interrupting his reverie. Almost in slow motion he saw Enna draw her blade and Gethman’s fists start to glow.
A dozen possibilities flew through Wrenn’s mind as he realised what Enna’s intention would be with the child, something he could never let happen. He could not live with himself if he turned away and did nothing; he knew he could get to the child but there was no way he’d outrun the ranger; and despite their disagreements, he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to kill her. Would it come to that? Yes. In defence of a child, an innocent.
With his hand drifting to his rapier, he was stopped by Jason’s voice – the more calm voice that was reserved for dealing with situations like this. What had Wrenn been thinking? His instinctive response would have led to a blood-bath. He followed suit and adopted Jason’s diplomatic tone.
“Enna, there’s not a threat here – let’s put away our weapons.”
It took some convincing, but between them the group diffused the situation. Wrenn was surprised when Salzar took the initiative and removed the baby from the equation by flying it away. He didn’t fully trust the warlock, but almost anything was preferable to Enna slaughtering the child in front of them all.
As she sated her bloodlust by killing an unarmed prisoner, Wrenn turned away. He found himself wishing they were on any other quest; one that didn’t involve orcs at all. He looked up in time to see Helge slowly backing away into the forest, nobody else seemed to have noticed. The look on the young man’s face told Wrenn everything – he was horrified.
Feeling a surge of respect at Helge’s principles and sadness that he might never see him again, Wrenn gave a nod. He hoped that his friend wouldn’t judge him too harshly; right now he wanted to join the monk and escape this madness, but he owed Jason a life debt. Wrenn would never tell him that, but he knew that one day he’d get a chance to pay the dragonborn back.
Wrenn took a deep breath and came to a resolution. He would reconsider his life once the debt was paid, perhaps the Lord Protector could find a more scholarly way for him to carry out his duties. In the meantime, it might be possible to do some damage limitation regarding Enna.