The warrior knew that she herself had spoken amiss, as this newly-arrived Reaver had pointed out ever-so-correctly, but what name should she give--could she give? To be the loser of a Duel of the Fates was a disgrace second only to being a wanted criminal! Her true name, Perdante, would give her away immediately. Fortunately, in the dim light of the setting sun that was filtering through the trees, neither of the other two women could see the red Brand of the Vanquished below her left eye and brushing her pale cheek lightly.
"I apologize to you both," the scarlet-haired maiden said at last. "You may call me Rada. It comes from an ancient word in the common tongue meaning glad, and I, for one, am glad to meet you. If it had not been for your quick assistance, my savior mage, I would be dead by now. Secondly, with your arrival, former Reaver, I stand a much better chance of survival in this dark and danger-filled forest than I've ever had before!"
She winked at the two, leaning back against the nearest tree. "Do either of you know the shortest way to the base of the Reaching Moutains? I seek refuge with either the Elves or the Dwarves--whichever race will take a wretched beggar in for the night. You see, I have no coin, and it's truly a pity. I was hoping to afford your services of protection, Stechtain, just in case I run into any more ravenous beasts! As for you, honorable Elf," said the former Paragon, "I thank ye again, and hope you know the forest's exit."