Recent content by Nerren Harclaw

Visor. Staff. Helmet. Hell with it. Nerren Harclaw had braved hellish winds at sea and faced hellbeasts on land. Others had tried to size her up in her ventures, and maybe what they saw before their stature was just some woman, but this woman was Nordenfiir. The bear was the roar in her bones...

That cider sure as shit did the trick. So had the fire. After spending days and nights in the rain on the river in her ship, and despite being born for it, warmth on her skin and a belly full of mead worked wonders. Right. She was a few drinks under the sun, not enough to be drunk per se, but...

Safe. Dangerous. Some said one and the other were much the same. There were dangerous games to play, dangers to brave, and in these ways you tended to stay safe. After all, if you did not learn caution then how could you be cautious? That was an argument for another time. Though it might also be...

Good. Bad. This man’s eyes might betray his knife, as his knife might betray his eyes, and perhaps there was a bit of a difference. He didn’t know the dagger at his hip that was from her but he didn’t know the game he was playing either. Surely this guy was good at something if not building...

Honestly, the fact that this man had kept the dagger instead of sending it back to the woman who had handed it him was probably enough to merit his stance as a warrior. Perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration on the part of the observer but wasn’t that warranted? Morning had led to evening...

Had they all deserved it? Sure. Nerren was a killer from a younger age and some claimed that to be the same as murderer. Such a poor connotation when it came to semantics, perhaps, but such was the way of her environment and the warrior. One did not brave the cold white of the land or the cruel...

For a moment, it was all the woman could do to stare at the man, cocking a brow as if to find meaning in his eyes. Sure, there was meaning to be found around fingers, with or without the dagger, as much as with the tongue of which throats were getting coated in whiskey, ale and other beverages...

The energy that Edward Lorain gave to Nerren Harclaw was one of amusement and being amused, whatever the difference; a man who jested as much as he was serious, which meant something to his contemporary. That was especially so given Nerren now knew even an inkling of Edward’s history. Teth was...

Whiskey. Ale. Something else in between. To say that Nerren wasn’t getting buzzed would be an understatement. To say that she was getting drunk would be an overstatement. There was indeed a difference; a fine line between blooming and being loopy. She was beginning to be the former, setting the...

A history lesson. Fitting, really, given that Nerren had given her own without ever knowing how much her drinking buddy had already known about her homeland. In the end, however, this was one conversation where words weren’t necessarily given in repetition so much as emphasis. That was one...

He could drink. Did drink. It wasn’t his first sip and it wouldn’t be the last before this night was over, however. Whether he parted with a dagger in his heart or not remained to be determined. Yet Edward Lorain seemed to Nerren Harclaw to be a man of words who didn't mince them, no mere...

To all of those things and more. The words rang loud throughout Nerren’s head, listening to them over again, suddenly taken back to another island amid a sea of memories. This and more. Someone had once spoken. See it, Nerren. Sea to shore. Take it. It’s yours. That remained to be determined...

So, Bart was the bartender’s name. In hindsight, Nerren didn’t know why that name fit perfectly for a barkeep but it did. Perhaps, before the night ended, she would share drinks with him, never mind meat or mead. To call Nerren Harclaw a social creature would be an understatement indeed. For...

See, in Nerren’s experience, she was interested in men who knew how to accept her challenge without wincing like this one seemed to. In the end, however, she didn’t actually intend to cut his throat. If he cowarded out and wanted to hand the knife back instead of play the game and dance then...

Honestly, appearances aside, this guy had already lost her when he decided to immediately flirt with her but, hell with it, Nerren decided to play his game and see if he was brave enough to go the whole way, with or without five finger fillet. Having some fun with him seemed better than...