Nemea Character Post<br/>Time of day beginning post: Noonish<br/>Time of day ending post: Noonish<br/>Location beginning post: Bold Bison Inn<br/>Location ending post: Bold Bison Inn<br/>Characters currently interacting with: Corann/Sol/Rianna, any other in area<br/>GM Intervention Request\Required? No<br/><hr/><br/>Nemea smiled as Corann turned his chair toward the third in their group and began to put the 'hard sell' to Sol. The man was charismatic, convincing, and possessed an obvious spirit that was hard to miss. When Corann set his mind to something, Nemea had no doubt that the person he spoke to would have little choice but to listen to him, even if they did not end up agreeing with him. Nemea couldn't help but see that Corann was almost his own polar opposite: where the man was talkative, boisterous, dramatic and very forward, Nemea himself was quiet, reserved, and almost shy to a fault. Something about that comforted the elf as he held back a chuckle.<br/><br/>Privately, Nemea hoped that Sol would confess some sort of skill or use she might have on the road. She was pretty, and very... curious. She wore a veil, but not because she was hideous, and such a practice intrigued him. She also bore strange designs on her skin, and while such a thing might not be all too uncommon, he was still curious what her own body art stood for or represented. Still, their acquaintance was so new, he did not feel overly comfortable asking her detailed personal questions just yet, and if Corann could not convince her to accompany them, then it was likely he might not even see her again.<br/><br/>Some people simply weren't "adventurers". For every tale Nemea had read of Talon Stringfellow or Nubar Maysette, there were thousands of tales of mundane people going about their normal lives - shopkeepers, farmers, chamber maids and the like. Not everyone was cut-out to be an adventurer, sell-sword, or mercenary. And to top it off, not everyone -wanted- to be one.<br/><br/>Nemea raised his mug to his lips absently listening to Corann grill Sol, his eyes drifting lazily upward to see the latest person walk into the inn. He almost choked on the mouthful of drink he had just poured into his mouth, but was able to swallow without embarrassing himself. The lightly-clothed woman that entered the inn obviously stood out, and if not for the massive sword strapped across her back, he may have mistaken her for a lady of the night.<br/><br/>Immediately he wondered about her, wondered where she was from, wondered about her manner of dress and the weapon on her back. Most likely, she didn't carry such a weapon if she didn't know how to use it, but that and a hundred other questions sprang to his mind about her. Add those to the hundred or so questions he had about Sol, and the hundred or so unspoken questions he had about Corann, and Nemea quickly realized that his mind was quickly getting crowded!<br/><br/>Nemea stared at the woman, trying to determined if she wore anything that would indicate who - or what - she was. His eyes settled on the blade for a moment, noting its design and quality. His eyes drifted back down - to find her looking over at him and his companions. Instantly embarrassed because he was staring, Nemea's face reddened slightly, and he stretched his arms out in a -very- lame attempt to appear as if he were simply yawning, and not gawking at the newcomer. He set his cup down on the table and turned his eyes towards Corann.<br/><br/>Whispering at a moment when he would not rudely interrupt Corann and Sol's conversation, Nemea spoke softly. "Corann... you sound interested in finding more able bodies for an expedition of sorts? Look to your left, two tables over... if her skill with that blade she carries is half as impressive as the weapon itself, she might be worth a look."