Inept Healer

Thurma Emberworn had her bags packed before Fithe Bladestone even finished asking for volunteers. She’s the only healer in a fight that’s desperate at best. The land is thick with smoke, sorcery, and the blood of the dead and dying. If reinforcements don’t arrive soon, the dwarves won’t need a burial. They’ll already be dust.

Now that she’s in the thick of it, Thurma realizes she’s in over her head.

Her wards work well enough. They absorb spells flung her way, turning them aside or bouncing them back at their casters. That part she’s got down. But while other healers calmly recite their blessings in battle, Thurma stumbles over hers, frantically mending the wounded amid a hail of arrows, hurled spells, and the clash of steel.

She mostly gets it right. But every stutter, every mispronounced word, leaves behind headaches, nosebleeds, or a lingering frailty.

Still, it’s hard to complain when your guts are back where they belong. Despite her flaws, Thurma Emberworn remains invaluable to the dwarves in their fight against Oridum Graybrow’s fires.