Disclaimer: I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein.
Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points.
Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

Blackcross & Taylor

Nashkel

Imoen readjusted her pack, skidding slightly on the stony path as she did so. They had left Beregost early that morning, continuing their journey south. It was mid-afternoon now and, according to Khalid, Nashkel was just over the next hill.

Imoen smiled; her pack was heavier, her feet sorer, the weather more humid and dark clouds were gathering on the horizon… and this was the best day they'd had together so far. Everyone's mood seemed so much lighter today and Imoen suspected it had something to do with the fact that, care of Silke, their coin purses were all a bit heavier. Khalid and Jaheira were up ahead chatting amiably about adventures past, the most relaxed she'd ever seen them and Fritha was walking next to her, gazing up at the trees, lost in a world of her own.

That morning it seemed as though Fritha could remember nothing of the night before until Jaheira began talking at length about how she'd always liked a tune while she walked. Imoen couldn't help but be amused. The poor girl had blushed to her roots, mumbled something about not being that sort of bard and suddenly taken a great interest in her fingernails until the subject was changed.

Imoen looked to her friend walking next to her. Fritha had gone back to the market as soon as the sun had risen, enticed by the many things she had seen the day before but couldn't afford. She had shown Imoen her treasures as soon as she'd returned to the inn; two thick wooden hair pins, one intricately carved, the other inlayed with mother of pearl. She was wearing her hair up now and Imoen marvelled at how much older she looked; the mass of frizzy tresses tumbling down from the pins at her crown, a few stray curls softening her face.

'Hey look!' she suddenly exclaimed and Imoen turned to look down on the village of Nashkel huddled at the foot of the hill, boarded on all sides by thick woodland.

The walk down into Nashkel seemed to take no time at all, everyone spurred on by the thought they would soon be at their journey's end. Fritha paused a moment on the bridge into the village, hanging over the side to try and catch a glimpse of fish before hurrying after the others.

A small inn was the first building to come to in the village and while Khalid and Jaheira discussed their meeting with Berrun Ghasthill, Fritha decided to make herself useful.
'Shall I go and see about getting us rooms?'

The others nodded their agreement and Fritha crossed the path and entered the inn. Inside it seemed even smaller, the tiny dirty windows allowing only enough light to emphasise the shadows. Just a bar and a few tables in one half with a hallway leading to what Fritha assumed were the guestrooms. She was about to find the innkeep when a voice called out from the gloom behind her.
'Just fancy my luck seeing you stroll in here as bold as day!'

Fritha turned to see a short heavy-set woman with a blonde shoulder-length hair stood before her, a shield slung across her back and a mace held ready in her hands.

'Now ladies, please,' began the landlord, 'let's take it out-'
A look silenced him.
'I expected a hunt and a chase from the description,' the bounty hunter continued genially, 'but who am I to argue with easy coins in the purse.'
She smiled and hefted the mace expressively. Fritha knew what was coming next. 'May the Lord of Shadows guide you swiftly to your gra-'

'Wait!' Fritha shouted, stalling for time, 'I would first know my attacker.'The woman eyed her a moment and Fritha shrugged mentally; she may as well find out who wanted her dead.
'Who I am is unimportant, though my name is Neria. What I am is a hunter of bounties and on your head is a lovely little sum.'
The woman smiled again.
'Does this satisfy you?'
'No,' said Fritha crossly. It was bad enough she intended to kill her without making fun of her first.
'I thought it wouldn't. No matter.'

And suddenly the woman lunged at her.
Fritha cried out, dodging to the side and watching as the blow took a chunk from the table she'd been in front of. She drew her sword just in time to parry the next blow that was aimed at her and countered with a vicious kick to the shin. Neria stumbled slightly and it was just the chance she needed.
Fritha pulled back her sword and bolted for the door.
'Seems you'll get your chase after all!'

The three looked up as Fritha burst from the inn with a cry of 'bounty hunter', running back towards them. Khalid had loosed an arrow before Fritha had even reached them and Imoen couldn't help but be amazed at the speed of his reactions. A loud curse from the doorway showed it had found its target and a second later a blond woman appeared, arrow in her shoulder. Without further hesitation, she charged at them, her large shield making further arrows useless. Khalid and the two women drew their weapons and went out to meet her, Imoen hanging back, unable to get a clear shot with her friends so close.

The woman was fast though and highly skilled, even with three of them facing her she was managing to stand her ground. Khalid, sword and shield in hand, was best equipped to fight in close and he and the woman traded blows while Jaheira and Fritha stood back slightly on either side, hampering her movements where they could.

Suddenly she twisted, feigning with her shield and, catching Khalid on the back foot, swung out with her mace hitting him full-force in the chest. He flew back a few feet, unconscious as he hit the ground. Imoen gasped, rushing to his side. She couldn't see any damage through the mail he wore but blood was blossoming from his mouth.

'Jaheira, 'she cried, panicked, 'Jaheira, he's bleeding really badly!'
The two women were circling the bounty hunter now, wary, and Imoen could see her smirk behind her shield. A torn look crossed Jaheira's face and for a moment silence reigned until,

'Go, Jaheira,' said Fritha firmly, her eyes not leaving the assassin for a second. Jaheira backed off slowly before rushing over to her husband, throwing herself down beside him and beginning to check his torso.

Imoen looked up to where Fritha and the woman were still circling. The assassin was grinning, clearly believing that the hard part was over with and Fritha, looked uncharacteristically focused, her eyes narrowed in complete concentration.

Suddenly the woman stepped forward with a yell, her shielded side facing Fritha, viciously swinging the mace down at her. Imoen cried out, expecting to see Fritha leap back to defend herself but instead the girl stepped forward too and Imoen held her breath as she watched Fritha, her sword held in both hands, parry the blow, the momentum forcing the woman to twist round, her shield now useless behind her. Time seemed to slow and Imoen was sure she caught the look of horrified surprise flit across her face as Fritha flung back her right hand for balance, leaving her left free to drive her blade into her unprotected armpit. The woman gave a choked cry, collapsing as soon as the sword was withdrawn.

Fritha too seemed to shudder, stumbling back a few paces to lean against the wall of the inn, breathing heavily, Imoen running over to her.
'Fritha, a-are you okay?' she gasped, almost unable to believe what she had just witnessed, 'that…that was amazing! The way you changed hands like that and… wow.'
Fritha just grinned, heaving a relieved sigh as though she too couldn't believe it had worked.
At the other side of the path, Jaheira was helping Khalid up and together they crossed over to the girls.

'You managed it, then,' said Jaheira with a glance to the body lying a few feet away, the slight tremor in her voice belying her nonchalant words.
Fritha grinned
'Looks like. But I hope these bounty hunters give up soon, I don't think my heart could take doing that every day,' she said with a laugh, pretending to swoon. Jaheira frowned, annoyed at either her own concern or Fritha's lack of it.
'Can you take nothing seriously?'
Her friend seemed to ponder this a moment before shaking her head brightly.
Jaheira snorted her frustration and stalked past them in to the inn, Khalid following at a much slower pace, giving a nod to her and Fritha as he passed.

Fritha just shrugged and smiled at her, slowly crouching down to search the body and Imoen decided to follow Jaheira and Khalid, Fritha joining them a few moments later.

'Did you find anything?' asked Jaheira brusquely, clearly unwilling to forgive Fritha her buoyancy so soon. Fritha tossed her a small coin purse and the druid sat and began to busy herself, apparently ignoring them in favour of counting its contents.
Fritha sighed as she read the bounty notice.
'Six hundred and eighty gold pieces now,' she said, shaking her head, 'If this gets any higher, I won't need to worry about bounty hunters, Jaheira will be turning me in!'
Jaheira was still pretending to ignore them, but at this, Imoen was sure she saw her lips twitch.

'R-right,' said Khalid, returning from the bar, 'our rooms are arranged f-for the night and I have paid for the table.'
Well, that was hardly our fault' Imoen said to Fritha with a grin but Jaheira cut her off before she could reply.
'Good,' she said, scooping the coins into her own purse and rising, 'We should go and meet the mayor at once, there is much we must discuss.'
And with that, she left the inn, the rest of the group trailing after her.

Outside the clouds that had seemed so far off earlier had moved in, darkening the sky to a dusky violet and rain looked imminent.
Fritha followed Jaheira and Khalid as they walked down the main, and what looked to be, only street of Nashkel, Imoen lagging behind them. The buildings could not have been more different from the ones she'd seen in Beregost. White wash peeling off the walls, windows left broken and gardens untended, they held the look of fine homes that had quite recently fallen into disrepair, as though poverty had not always been the way here.

Up ahead Khalid and Jaheira had stopped to talk to a man whose demeanour gave him away as someone of importance. Fritha turned and called to Imoen before hurrying over to join the three.

'Ah, Khalid, Jaheira, I am happy to welcome you. And who are these two that travel with you?' said the man Fritha took to be Berrun Ghasthill and Fritha found all three heads turn to her and the still panting Imoen.

Jaheira narrowed her eyes slightly.
'Ah, just the young wards of an old friend, pay them no mind.'
Berrun shrugged turning back to the two adults and it was all Fritha could do to drag Imoen away before she said something they'd all regret.

xxx

'I just can't believe her! She's just so, so rude!' Imoen raged as they continued their journey down the street. Fritha had hoped a trip the local temple would distract her but, apart from lowering her voice and laying off some of the more colourful language, Imoen had not been deterred and was still ranting over ten minutes later.
'I think Jaheira just sees it as being-'

Fritha would have actually had a bit of difficulty finding a nice way of describing Jaheira's attitude but she was saved the trouble. As soon as she began the sentence, Imoen gave her a look that suggested that trying to excuse the druid's behaviour would not go down well and Fritha decided to change tack.

'Well, if you look at it another way, she actually saved us,' said Fritha, with a sly glance to ensure this was not having the same effect as the previous statement. 'They would have only been discussing the situation at the mines and we know about most of that from those two already. Iron tainted, workers going missing, mine soon to close.'
Thankfully, this did seem to calm her slightly and they whiled away the next few minutes speculating as to who or what was behind it, their theories getting increasingly farfetched and silly as the conversation wore on.

'Right, right,' said Imoen, calming herself down after the last bout of laughter, 'the person actually behind the iron crisis is none other than… the First Reader!'
Fritha snorted her amusement as Imoen continued enthusiastically.
'No, listen. He's poisoning the iron so that Baldur's Gate and Amn will go to war and under this cover he can send covert stealth operatives-'
Fritha laughed as the image of Whelan and Jesseth sneaking around in black hose rose in her mind.
'-to the Gate and Athkatla to loot libraries and private collections making him High Overlord of All Knowledge and thereby Ruler of the Sword Coast!' Imoen finished, shaking her fists and laughing like a crazed megalomaniac.

Laughter pealed out again and the girls were so caught up in their game they didn't notice the man until Fritha had walked straight into him. She looked up to see a portly round-faced man, a sheen of sweat glistening on his bald head.
'Oh, sorry!' she said, taking a step back and making to walk round him.
The man, though, seemed not to have heard her and was looking at her with a mixture of surprise and awe.
'Are you oka-'
'No, say not another word,' the man gasped giving a nervous little half-bow that made Imoen stifle a laugh, 'I would not think of making you wait for your just reward.'

The girls shared a look.

'When I heard that the council had hired Greywolf to rid the woods of the bandit Tonquin, I knew we could expect quick justice. And here you are! Who else could it be, striding in to town looking…' the man paused, obviously deciding on the best way to climb out of the hole he'd just dug, 'ah, looking as you do. Please accept these two hundred gold pieces and the heartfelt thanks of Nashkel.'

'I don't know who you think I am, but my name certainly isn't "Greywolf"!' Fritha answered, ignoring Imoen's sharp elbow to her ribs.

The man mouthed silently a moment putting Fritha in mind of a landed fish before finally managing to stammer, 'you…you are not Greywolf the bounty hunter? Oh, sweet Helm, I almost gave two hundred gold pieces away to a complete stranger!'
He grabbed both of her hands, shaking them heartily.
'Thanks be for your honesty stranger, there are those that would not have done as such.'

Fritha shrugged, fighting the desire to wipe the sweat from her hands until the man had disappeared into the barracks. Imoen was not so easy to ignore though and the girl, probably still secretly riled from before, bemoaned her lack of 'enterprise' until they stopped again a few moments later.

Fritha, desperately sick of listening to Imoen's admonishments found a glad distraction in the form of a bald warrior stood at the end of the road. To say he was large was something of an understatement. He stood about six feet tall but heavily built, his massive chest wrapped in heavy leather armour, a huge broad sword just visible under the green woollen cloak that fell to his knees. She quickly pointed him out to her and the two girls spent the next few moments staring at the man who appeared to be alternately watching them and talking to something in his hand.
'Come on,' said Fritha her curiosity finally getting the better of her and slowly they approached.

'I agree Boo, they look to be friendly,' said the man with a nod to his hand and Fritha choked back a cry as she saw just what he was talking to.
Perched in the man's enormous hand was a tiny brown hamster.
'We are Minsc and Boo,' he continued, his voice thick with accent, apparently oblivious to their looks of surprise, 'we have travelled far to explore this land, but now my charge Dynaheir has been taken from us by filthy gnolls. Accompany us in this rescue and the bards shall sing of the deeds of Minsc and Boo and, er, friends.'
'Where has she been taken?'
'To a fortress in the west and once we have tracked them there I will beat sense into their heads until they release her,' he bellowed, and Fritha felt sincerely sorry for any gnolls in the vicinity.

Fritha turned to Imoen with a questioning look, but the girl just shrugged before turning back to Minsc.
'Are you speaking to a rodent?' asked Imoen loudly, ignoring Fritha's attempts to shush her.
'Boo is my faithful animal companion and more the he seems.'
Imoen turned back to her, none the wiser for this explanation.
Fritha shrugged.
'Ah, what the hell, welcome aboard Minsc.'

Minsc beamed down at them, his dark eyes shining.
'Take heart adventurers for you have curried the favour of Boo, the only miniature space hamster in the Realms! My friend and companion since my head wound, he will lead us to victory.'
Fritha smiled at his enthusiasm; he was clearly a bit strange, but he radiated a loud amiability that she found warming. She explained their own mission as the group walked back to the inn, to which he readily pledged his sword, once he'd talked it over with Boo, of course.

'I can't wait to see Jaheira's face when you turn up with these two,' whispered Imoen, her eyes shining with malevolent glee as Minsc walked ahead of them chattering happily with his hamster.
'Are you joking?' said Fritha incredulously, 'Look at the size of him! You'd be an idiot not to want him fighting with us. Besides, I think he's really nice.'
Imoen just snorted though.
'Maybe, but I don't think she's going to see it like that.'

xxx

Imoen was right.

Jaheira, to her credit, did manage to remain calm all the way though Fritha's explanation as to why their four had suddenly become five-

'Six,' Imoen had exclaimed unhelpfully, pointing to the little brown hamster that was sat on bar stuffing its cheek pouches with sunflower seeds.
'Yes, ah, quite,' Fritha had conceded, before continuing quickly, 'but Minsc's ward has been captured by gnolls-'
'And Minsc and Boo will make them pay!' Minsc had roared enthusiastically making the innkeep drop a glass in fright.

At this point Fritha had, somewhat belatedly, realised that the bar wasn't the best place for this discussion and had wisely ushered Jaheira and Khalid into the hallway of the guest quarters where they could talk alone.

Here she had explained quickly, to the still silent Jaheira, her reasons for accepting the quest along with its attachment of eccentric extras, citing 'the desire to do the Right Thing,' 'the opportunity to find out more about the increased bandit activity in the area' and 'the possibility of getting a mage to travel with them'.
In fact, by the end of it, she had got the impression that if it hadn't been for Minsc, Jaheira would have been more than happy with the whole thing.

Fritha now stood waiting in patient silence as Jaheira's eyes bored into her, before at last she answered, each word clipped to the quick.
'I see. Very well then, we shall go. Khalid, a word if you please.'
Khalid seemed to wince before turning to follow his uncharacteristically calm wife into their room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He really need not have not have bothered though, thought Fritha, Jaheira's voice drifting after her as she returned to the bar.
'AM I TO BE SURROUNDED BY FOOLS?'

xxx

Khalid looked west across the river, past the few farmers that scattered the sodden fields, to the forest they would soon be entering. The rain of the previous night had left everything with a bright clean feeling, the sunlight from behind making him squint against the glare thrown up from the rushing water. It was still early and no one passed them as they stood outside the inn waiting for the group to gather. Jaheira was next to him, the occasional sigh of impatience her only utterance and Imoen was leant against the bridge post yawning widely. He heard the creak of a door and turn to see Fritha ambling across to them looking tired as well, her hair loose and shining copper in the morning sun.

'Lo,' she yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, 'everyone here?'
'We are still waiting on Minsc,' said Jaheira acidly, every syllable indicating her irritation that there was a Minsc to wait for.
Fritha looked as though she wished she'd stayed in bed, but just shrugged and turned to Imoen.
'Hey, you tired too?'

But, on the contrary, Imoen no longer looked sleepy at all. Her eyes were wide and alert and she was staring at her friend as though she'd never seen her before.
'Your hair?' she breathed.
'What?' Fritha snapped a little too quickly and Khalid turned to look again, Imoen's words mirroring his thoughts.
'It's different.'
This was something of an understatement. Gone was the frizzy mane of ringlets that was only ever one comb away from, what Fritha had affectionately dubbed, 'orange candyfloss'. Smooth curls now tumbled over her narrow shoulders with the sort of well-groomed wildness that any barbarian heroine would be proud of.

'No it isn't,' Fritha mumbled, nervously readjusting the neckline at her shoulders, trying and failing to look dismissive.
'Yes it is! You've done something to it.'
'Imoen,' she hissed, the colour rising in her cheeks.
But Imoen was undeterred.
'That's why you went to so bed early!' she exclaimed with triumph.
Fritha said nothing. She looked highly embarrassed at all the attention her hair was suddenly getting and began furiously pinning it back, clearly angry with herself.

Khalid felt his heart go out to her. Unlike him, Fritha was at ease in most social situations, but she seemed to be at that age where her appearance was a centre of unsureness for her. Mention anything about her looks or barding and she suffered bouts of shyness that were as crippling as his stutter.
'Wasting her time and money on such frivolities,' his wife muttered audibly at his side and, if possible, the girl looked even more ashamed.
Khalid's remonstration was on his lips before he could even think.
'Well, I think it looks very nice,' he said in a fatherly tone, proud to have kept his voice steady, 'seems a shame to pin it back.'

Everyone turned to stare at him, Jaheira looking positively livid, and he was struck by the feeling that only Fritha and himself realised the sacrifice he had just made. She smiled at him; a gentle smile that made her seem suddenly older.
'Oi Minsc!'
The huge ranger had just appeared in the doorway and Imoen was beckoning him across enthusiastically, her friend's new styling secrets apparently forgotten.
'By Silvanus, Imoen, he is not blind!' snapped Jaheira as he strolled across, beaming all the while.
'Right. Everyone ready?' she continued brusquely, as soon as he was in earshot, and without waiting for a reply she stepped on to the bridge and the party set off westward.

xxx

Khalid paused a moment mid-step, wincing slightly as another wave of heat rose up from his new boots to sweep over him. Donated by a grateful noble who they'd saved from ursine-death, he was now considering whether they weren't a carefully disguised torture device he'd cunningly offloaded on to them as thanks.
Fritha's image came floating back to mind, stood near the carcass of the freshly slain bear, turning the boots over and over, examining them from every angle.

'Hmm, good strong boots, heavy leather soles with cured winter wolf pelt uppers.'
She had flipped the boots over, parting the fur just inside the cuff to find a small rune stitched there.
'Ooo, and there's an enchantment on them. Should protect you from the cold.' She had said, smiling as she'd handed them to him.
Khalid had been very flustered by this but as she had pointed out, they were too large for most of them,
'And nowhere near big enough for you, eh Minsc,' she had said, clapping the ranger on the back with a laugh they had both shared.

Indeed Fritha had seemed fine enough back then, but he should have noticed something was bothering her. He glanced ahead to the two girls walking before him; their voices low but still audible, if you paid attention.

'But why 'chap'? He could have used 'girl', 'maid', even 'wench' would have been okay, but 'chap'.'
He heard Imoen sigh wearily.
'Fritha, stop worrying. You saw how he was about that bear, he was probably delirious with fear.'
'Yes, well…' Fritha conceded, her hand plucking nervously at her neckline before,
'Are you sure I don't look like a boy?'
'For the last time, YES!

Khalid smiled. Ah, the worries of youth.
But his thoughts could not be diverted for long until the unpleasant squelch of his toes in damp socks brought him plunging back to reality. Protection from cold was right; his feet were sweltering!
He never should have put the boots on straight away but it the way Fritha had described them, with such skill and enthusiasm, he felt almost swept along with it, as though he was a child again, desperate to try out a new toy.

Khalid sighed in defeat as they passed a likely looking clearing. It was nearly sundown so they weren't really losing that much travelling time.
'Er, this looks like a g-good place to stop?'
Jaheira looked like she would have said differently, but before she could even speak Imoen had shouted 'Yes!' at the top of her voice and flung her bag under the nearest tree. Jaheira seemed to be holding back a comment with difficulty, but after a moment's struggle, she too dropped her bag and began to unpack.

It was dusk by the time camp was set up, their small fire nothing to rival the blaze that was raging on the horizon as the sun disappeared below the rim. Khalid looked round the camp with a smile, his feet finally free from their fur-lined prison. Imoen was checking the string on her bow, Jaheira sorting what rations were left and Fritha was finally taking up the sleeves on her tunics. From halfway up the arm, of course.
He smiled as he remembered her words to Imoen, totally unabashed.
'Well, I don't want to hide the pattern at the cuffs, do I?'

And all were listening to Minsc's description of his homeland, the almost fabled land of Rashemen, in the Utter East.

'Ah, the snowfields of my land are vast indeed, but we have other landscapes too. Mountains tower black over the snow and in the icy waters of Lake Ashane, a great water spirit lives.'

'It sounds wonderful, Minsc,' breathed Imoen.
'Yes, it does,' agreed Jaheira slyly, 'very inspiring. I am sure you could write page after page of epic poetry about such a place, could you not, Fritha?'
'Jaheira!' scolded Khalid, as the girl blushed red and mumbled something about poetry not really being her thing. He truly did not understand her need to torment Fritha so. Minsc however, seemed not to have noticed this exchange and continued enthusiastically.
'You are a bard? Ah, great news! Always there will be someone at hand to recount the glorious battles of Minsc and Boo. Will you not recite for us an ode now, of grand adventurers and glory?'
Fritha looked mortified.

'Poetry… well, er, it's really not my area, you see.'
'Please, young Fritha, Boo would so love to hear one,' he pleaded, thrusting a cupped hand out towards her, in which Boo was happily perched.

Fritha's resolve seemed to falter. She paused a moment, her eyes closed, before taking a deep breath and,

There once was a Rashemi warrior
Whose enemies couldn't be sorrier
He put all to the sword
Between him and his ward
An action that made him much jollier

Minsc roared his approval and easy laughter pealed out from the group. Fritha grinned, flushing with pleasure.
'Good, very good,' smiled Jaheira, nodding and looking strangely pleased, 'but we really should be getting some rest.' She shifted slightly in her bedding. 'I'll take first watch, Khalid you can be next, then it can be…'

Why now? Why not the previous night in the inn? Why had this suddenly crept up on her?
Fritha gave the fire one last vicious poke and threw the stick into it, closing her eyes and waiting for the blurred image of flames to fade from the inside of her lids.

Khalid was supposed to be on sentry now. She'd laid awake through half of Jaheira's watch before getting up and volunteering to take over and that had been about three hours ago. Still, it seemed pointless to wake him when she herself was no nearer to sleep and so she sighed and went back to musing on the thing had been haunting her since she first closed her eyes.
Neria.
Not so much Neria being dead, as Neria not being alive.
And, of course, the fact it was all her fault.

It wasn't the first time she'd killed someone; that was in Candlekeep. But it was the first time she'd actually consciously decided to do it and the image of Neria's face kept swimming into view. Fritha sighed again, rubbing her eyes, confused by the mix of feelings churning within her. She didn't feel guilty. Fritha had very set ideas about people who wanted to kill her deserving everything they got, but it was a strange feeling, knowing that because of you one person had left the world for good.

Was a similar thing waiting for her tomorrow? The day after?

Fritha felt almost suffocated by the idea that it all been decided already, that fate was somehow controlling her every move. But was a life without fate any better? It obviously hadn't been for Neria…

How had it been for her?
Had it come down to just one choice between bounties or had every decision in Neria's existence had somehow led to this confrontation?
Had she been one choice away from life?

She tried to imagine the woman's life but it was hopeless; the possibilities infinite. And yet her mind would not let it go.
Where did she come from? Did she have family? Was someone, somewhere waiting for her to return?
She was desperate to know about this woman. To know that someone out there knew her, could remember her, because, if there wasn't…
Then it was as if she never existed.
Fritha wouldn't have just killed her… she would have annihilated her.
It was all her fault.

The thought of this was unbearable and frantic for anything that might ease her mind, she scrabbled in her bag finally pulling from it her diary. She tore a page from the back and the surrounding trees seem to hiss in angry protest as the breeze picked up. Then she was fumbling in her bag again for quill and ink and at last, resting on her diary as she did so, she wrote at the top of the page in large plain letters, "NERIA".

Her panic finally seemed to subside and she watch as the ink shone wet in the firelight before absorbing into the yellowing paper. She sat a long while just staring at the word, feeling no less burdened, but slowly more foolish as the time wore on.
How would this make things better?
Was she to do this every time she killed someone?
Fritha shook her head defeatedly and continued to write.

Bounty hunter
Blonde
Died 8th Mirtul 1368

She wrote and wrote. Covering one side and starting the other before she'd finished. Every inconsequential detail she'd managed to glean from the time they'd spent together. She read it over once again then leant forward and, with a deep breath, promptly tossed it into the fire, watching as the page smoked and curled, crumbling away to nothing.
But she wasn't gone.
Fritha would remember her forever.
She would remember all of them and they would live in her.

Fritha yawned, feeling suddenly tired; it was time for bed. Gently she shook Khalid awake and moments later she was snuggled beneath her own blankets, fast asleep.