But... what's a Narath?

Nym pouted, and brushed her hair out of her eyes at this wererat-killing-evil-smiting-adventuring-having information from Darvin and brush off from Beranhond. I would give an eye to be back at Silverymoon far away from this sewer and insane wererat smiters! Well, maybe not an eye. A toe? Some hair? I wonder if I could trade nail clippings to be back. She chuckled to herself, imagining an offering of nail clippings, and shook off Beranhond's impatience and Darvin's profession that the group was on a suicide mission as she bounded behind the group. What's a Nara- she began asking Thjodolf, who clamped his hand over her mouth. SHHH, little girl. It's sneaking time. he whispered, frowning at her. SORRY she whispered back, as soon as he'd moved his hand. He frowned at her. She grinned at him, oblivious to how much he hadn't wanted her to respond to this. Nym pulled out her bow once again and bounced along, following the group. Suddenly she remembered Darvin had said this group of 'strapping young men had no intention of letting anything bad happen to her' and she blushed.