[center][h3]Nemeia[/h3][/center]
[hr]

Forced to move the camp by the torrents of water that cut through the soft ground, Nem had spent most of the first evening smoldering with rage beneath her traveling cloak. Soaked to the bone she had eventually elected to start a fire, knowing full well that on the Swamp Road the weather was often a greater threat than bandits. It would not take long for rot and decay to set in if they attempted to travel the landscape while soaked.

She could not recall if the others sheltering in the wilderness had helped her, such was her anger. The current adventure had started in the worst of ways. She was used to stares, she was used to the name calling, and she was used to the occasional violence. But she had expected more from her supposed comrades, even if they happened to be her superiors. And she was tired of being treated as if she was some soul sucking and blood drinking demon who would devour an innocent at the first, best chance by almost every Lowlander she encountered. For a people that were practically dependent on the arms and blood of adventurers they were an exceedingly rude people in the opinion of the young tiefling.

Dark, violent thoughts and dreams of retribution, had swirled through Nem's mind and she was sure she had been a most terse conversationalist throughout the night. She only vaguely recollected who had joined her around the fire. The newcomer, Kolrim, had been there. Given his short stature she suspected that he too might have suffered at the hands of the Lowlanders. Likewise, the Badlander, Eomer, seemed aware of the dangers that the wilds could offer and Nem had appreciated his concern with keeping the party together. For all the good it had done, given Ezlan's desertion to warmer and more comfortable quarters. Despite her anger and bitter frustration, Nem had dutifully taken the first watch of the night. After which, she had retired to quietly rage beneath her small tent before a weary, dreamless sleep finally took her. 

Marching through the mud the following day had been strangely cathartic despite the poor conditions of the road and Nem had felt the unwelcome anger and bitterness of the previous night fading from her heart. Finding a prime spot in a corner of the tavern Nem slowly nursed a half empty flagon of ale. She had no plans of heading outside given the weather and given her much improved mood she was not adverse to conversation.