Nadir-Natesse
Proprietor of Thy Lady and Lord
Nadir took to pulling her belongings out of the knapsack. Everything was there, including her tattered, patch-job armor. She pulled it on, but it didn't fit quite right. Kir had done an okay job at repairing it, but it was too tight around her bust and hips. She would have to find another Forsworn to kill, or else take this set to a expert blacksmith. She was raring for the former, but the latter was probably wiser. Even still, she was grateful for the fix. She hated standard armor and plain clothes just felt weird. She looked around and realized her boots were missing; hardly surprising, as her transformation would've destroyed them...beast feet were hardly accommodated by leather boots.
She stood, hoisted her pack over her shoulder, and thanked the woman.
"Eh, thanks for looking after me, I guess. Where is Kir? And Ghubaric?"
Her thoughts lingered on the slaver. His charm...his wit... Something about him stuck to her. She....liked him. She wanted to see him again.
She stood, hoisted her pack over her shoulder, and thanked the woman.
"Eh, thanks for looking after me, I guess. Where is Kir? And Ghubaric?"
Her thoughts lingered on the slaver. His charm...his wit... Something about him stuck to her. She....liked him. She wanted to see him again.