Shredder XXX
Merinde paused a moment to see if her name registered on the Halfling’s face. It did not. Well her exploits would precede her some day, but there was also a twang of thanks that her notoriety went unknown as well.
“Where in the hells am I?” she gave voice to the thought in her head.
“Danorda Province,” Gerard responded, assuming the question was literal.
Merinde glanced at him, brow furrowed. Answer enough.
“The Southland Wastes,” Gerard broadened the scope.
She shook her head.
“The Queendom of Sheritha Quraal?”
Spearheaded by a thick swallow of uncertainty, the ranger watched an emotional torrent cross Merinde’s features. The level headed Halfling was unsurprised when the tail end of those feelings turned sour. The dark chambers of the heart were always the most volatile. He was quick to head them off.
“Easy, Merinde,” he said, his placating hands once more waving between them, “Give it some time, and let’s come at it from the other end. I travel a great deal, and know others who do the same. Where are you from?”
The bald woman looked at him, gratitude and despair clashing in her gaze. She paused a moment before answering his question. “Torival,” she said.
Gerard thought about it briefly before replying in the negative. “Doesn’t strike a chord,” he said, “Is that the town, or city, you call home?”
Merinde’s vision glazed over as she fought the well of tears coming unbidden. She had always been too sharp for her own good. “That’s my world.”
(For those of you who thought there were going to be sexytimes in this post….internet shame upon you!)