<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/y41fn52.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nerisa Drovers<br/><strong>Sheet:</strong>https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1252723<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong><br/><br/>It was the worst part of Nerisa's day to return to town.  She would have far preferred to live out in the woods or better yet, far from Orcish rule.  She'd never quite worked up to the courage though to try and make a run for it though.  The thought of hunting dogs and hunting orcs giving her pause.  She survived, for now.<br/><br/>The sight of the hunter returning was hardly new to anyone.  She was smaller than an orc, dressed in lumpy and poorly crafted armour of hide.  A scarf was wrapped loosely around her head as if to shade it from the sun, it was surely by lucky happenstance that it shielded her features from view.  A crossbow and her quarry were slung over her back while a dagger was at her hip and a shortspear in hand.  She moved slowly, hunched over slightly and eyes focused on the ground.<br/><br/>The downtrodden eyes only glanced up at her name, thankful it was a fellow slave and not some bored orc.<br/><br/>"Another celebration of victory I'm sure."  She muttered, too softly for any but Safia to hear.  Her mouth twisted at the suggestion of dealing with the orc cook.  She would have much preferred to leave her game with Safia and been done with it.  Let the other slave take the credit.  But that might have been seen as evasive, it might have attracted attention.<br/><br/>"A full meal is all I would ask in return, if he would even offer that, and the furs to take to the Huntmaster.  I have no desire to be accused of bringing no game."  She answered.<br/>