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Damn. Jo glared at the corpses of the two wargs with disdain, sheathing her sword with an irritated click of her tongue as she tilted her head from one side to the other to get a feel of the wounds around her throat. The bastard got a good shot at her, but the wounds didn’t feel like they were...

Only the living could truly enjoy the bounty of the world… The words faintly echoed through her head, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the pressure in her throat and the taste of blood that filled her mouth. She tried to open her eyes, but darkness was all she saw. It was like...

Sweet? Such a word had never been used to define her before! “Fuck off!” She immediately spat defensively, tightening her grip on her sword and stealing a peek back at the halfling to see him going on about ‘luck’ and holding his necklace. Huffing, she quickly looked back to the wargs and bolted...

Yen? Ric? Yenric? “Why do ya need so many damned names?” She grumbles as they crossed the bridge, drawing her sword now so it wouldn’t cause too much noise later. The goal was to be sneaky after all, wasn’t it? So, why was the small man following right on her ass? This was far from stealthy...

The cold meant little to her. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel it, how could she not? The chilly wind bit at the exposed flesh of her throat and fingers, causing her to shiver involuntarily at times, but she was used to enduring the weather. If she had the ability to beat the cold into submission...