[b]"A surly li'l lass, aren't ye Nimblefingers?"[/b]  Nariah laughed heartily while she picked bits of meat from her teeth with a small toothpick, nibbling on the end a bit.  There was a bit of a scuffle at the other end of the tavern, catching the woman's attention.  Been a while since she's seen a good drunken brawl, but unfortunately before the fists started flying, the scarred woman was to her feet at the men, calming them down with her words.  The drunken buffoons must've said something to chide the poor lass, because immediately she stormed back, a most sour of expressions upon her slightly marred face as she once more concealed it underneath her white cowl.  [b]"Don't be bothered too much, lass."[/b]  Rather assuringly Nariah spoke.  [b]"Just a mere scar it its.  I've had plenty from me travels here."[/b]  Just then, the door to the old inn creaked open again, and through the bitter cold outside into the warmth of the hearth stepped another, a shadowy figure cloaked in a hooded cape, that carried the scent of the forest heavy upon it.  Not the scent of the Dunenmer pines though, no...this was the aroma of cedars, larches, and birches.  He hailed to the west, in the thick, misty mires of Yolsorne, where the trees blotted out the sun and casted dappled shadows upon grounds of foreboding mystery.  [b]"Good to see ye made it.  Have a seat, lad."[/b]  Nariah greeted him with a curt nod.  That seemed to be all of them now, unless there were others, but that didn't seem to be the case to the warrior woman. A few moments or so had passed and not a single soul carrying a letter dared to darken the doorway.  Nariah yawned and cracked the bones in her stiffened neck.

[b]"Well I don't know about ye lot, but I'm tired of just sitting here getting drunk off mead.  I think it's high time we be heading south now."[/b]  But as she got up and made her way over to her weapons, suddenly the door flung open whacking her hard in the face, [b]"Argh!  Ye bloody bastard!  Watch where ye-?!"[/b]  Cantankerously the woman barked, but a pause as she saw who stood at the door.  He was a poor farm boy, shivering badly, trembling with such a fear that caught the eye of everyone in the tavern, his eyes wide as the moon with such an ill terror glistening in tears running down his scarred and burned cheeks.  His clothes, they were singed and smelled of smoke, his skin blackened with a thick layer of soot.  Nariah looked at him, her mouth agape as she spoke, [b]"Ye gods....what happened to ye, boy?"[/b]

Immediately the boy cried out, "Y-you have to help me, brave warriors!!  M-my village has been attacked by...by...by monsters!!"  He fell at the door to his knees, sobbing inconsolably into his hands.  [b]"Aye!  Calm yerself, boy!  Tell us, what monsters?"[/b]  Nariah asked the young lad kneeling beside him, though a bit harsh, [b]"I said calm yerself!  Tell us now!"[/b]  The boy whimpered drying his eyes, "They....they were horrible!  I-I couldn't even...they they killed my mother..and...and my sister....t-they killed everyone!  Not even the royal guard could stand against them!  Please, for the love of Agatha!  Please you have to help me!"  Tightly he threw his arms around the woman's ankle, Nariah coldly shrugging him off with a gruff and stern reply, [b]"A'right!  A'right boy!  We'll slay the bastards for ye!  Just lead us to the village, for Tha'agorn's sake!"[/b]  In that instant the woman wrenched up her sword and sheathed it behind her back and holstered her war axe at her side raising her shield.  She turned to the others, [b]"Well ye just gonna sit there like a bunch a lazy goats?  Let's go!  The boy needs help!  Ye there, healer, tend to his wounds!"[/b]