"Witty remarks comes with a price. When you provoke the enemy, you must be prepared to counter the consequences."
~Tasmiya Shaik
THE PORT CITY OF DURENHAL
OUTSIDE THE PORT MASTER'S ESTATE
Tuesday
8:23 a.m
The healer's wrists were shackled with cold iron; however to shatter the rusted bounds would be as simple a warrior's initiation hunt with the bow. The Druiksvel berserkers would regret the very first moment they had underestimated her abilities. Asharren females were not be trifled with, nor were they damsels in distress desperately awaiting the courageous young knight in shining armour to rescue them from the clutches of the villain.
She walked with her head held high, as if to denote herself as the esteemed healer amongst the four Druiksvel berserkers that escorted her along with the asharren female beside her. The Druiksvel berserker to her right grimaced with disdain at her sideways glance that portrayed superiority.
