Vogir shifts uneasily.
Rudha-an and Bayern are talking to the tattooed Dwarves they’d just saved.
Orestes is cleaning his weapons and Niema is counting out the treasure they’d discovered.
She had been badly hurt in that battle.
Vogir had seen her, bloodied and exposed.
It would have been a simple shot. Given the time he’d had, he could have easily sent an arrow straight through her demonic heart.
Instead he had charged and killed the Orc harassing Rudha-an.
Perhaps it’s the absence of the darkness that had so recently permeated his soul.
Perhaps it’s the uncertainty of her true goals.
Perhaps it’s just the fact that she could still prove useful in assuring his own survival.