Nalia felt the wagon she was riding in shudder as it passed over a small stone bridge, pulling her out of her sleep. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see out of the back of the small, covered trader's wagon and saw two women with bows and leather armor guarding the bridge that they had just passed over. They were there: at the start of the trail that had been left by Diablo.
Nalia stretched, arching her back and rolling out her arms. She had a lean, but strong body that was dressed in pieces of black leather; she had always relied on speed and agility, and could never get accustomed to fighting in metal armor. She wore a dark cloak over herself while in battle to not draw attention to herself and to hide her weapons, the hood currently pulled over her short, black hair.
She hopped out of the wagon and stretched her cramped legs, looking around the small camp. Aside from a couple of merchants, one of which had agreed to bring her hear in his wagon, everyone there was a member of the small clan which called itself the Rouges. They were an all-female group which lived upon these plains away from cities and civilization. They were all trained warriors, but usually lead a peaceful enough life.
Now things had changed; Diablo's evil had brought them hard times, as many of their sisters has been corrupted by his evil, and as many more had died by the hands of his demons.
Nalia thanked the merchant again for his help, and set off to talk to the village elder, a woman name Akara. |