You’d never been afraid of storms, at least you would never admit you were. But tonight the thundering booms, crackling lightning, and pounding rain has everyone in camp a little on edge. Even the inside your tent is cold and damp, so you huddle beneath your blankets and try to sleep through the storm.

The moment you find rest, an another loud crack of thunder shakes the valley and a sudden ripping sounds above your head. Before you can even open your eyes, you’re drenched. The weight of the water on your tent became too much, the thin fabric ripping upon above you. Gods dammit

Soaked, freezing, and spooked you look around camp, desperate for a warm and dry place. Before you are your companions in their tents, presumably asleep at this hour. One tent in particular catches your eye…

Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers, was the kindest and most selfless person you knew. He was genuinely the most heroic person you’ve ever met. Why he was traveling with your group of misfits was still a mystery to you, although you couldn’t lie and pretend you didn’t enjoy every second of his company.

If anyone would offer you a place to shelter, comfort, and dry clothes it would be Wyll. So, after taking a moment to build your confidence, you made your way to his tent. After knocking, he took long enough to open the door that you almost second guessed yourself.

But when Wyll opened the door and offered you warm smile with sleep heavy eyes, your fears melted away. “By the gods, what happened?” he asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he looked you over “Come inside, we need to get you warmed up.” He offered a soft hand to lead you inside, a true knight in shining armor even in his pajamas.