<div style="text-align: center"><img alt="[​IMG]" class="bbCodeImage LbImage" data-url="http://i.imgur.com/OBYSo.gif" src="http://i.imgur.com/OBYSo.gif" style=""/><br/>
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<span style="font-family: 'georgia'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: #9D612B">THOUGH FAR AWAY, THOUGH FAR AWAY, THOUGH FAR AWAY<br/>
WE'RE STILL THE SAME, WE'RE STILL THE SAME, WE'RE STILL THE SAME</span></span></span>​</div><br/><span style="font-size: 9px"><span style="color: #544A41"><span style="font-family: 'georgia'"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="color: #9D612B">Listening carefully to the rules as they were explained,</span></span></span> whilst grinning like a troublesome child who knew they had just gotten away with something that would've otherwise earned them a timeout, Sbatarra nodded slowly to that disembodied voice.  The rules were simple, and if any luck, she may get to test her mettle not only against Sil once more, but this Onigawara as well.  Best of all, Sbatarra held the strongest advantage out of everyone gathered when it came to a tag-team fight.  As injured as she would end up, she could always call for a switch, then take a short breather as her abyssal blood pumped through her veins, healing her faster than normally possible.  Such a trait had helped save her skin countless times before, and she had no doubt that Sil would at least be aware of it by now, and would likely grow quite displeased to see the battered drow regain her strength in mere moments, whereas she would need days to mend the injuries she would endure today.<br/>
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Still grinning as smugly as she could manage, Sbatarra meandered her way over towards one of the buildings, leaning up against it casually to wait for her turn to jump into the fray.  Given how powerful Baltazar's strikes were, she was beginning to wonder if she would ever need to jump in to take his place.  She certainly didn't want to, considering Onigawara's own blow, which would have caved in the drow's rib cage at the very least.  Still, Baltazar stood, and Sbatarra couldn't help but feel incredibly impressed with the man.  <span style="color: #9D612B">"Sil, a moment, if you would?"</span> she called, in the middle of their partners' fight.  <span style="color: #9D612B">"What does <i>Thrice</i> know about the group that wiped out my guild?  I know your focus is on your partner, and to also feed the burning hate you have for me, but at least do me this favor and tell me what you know,"</span> the drow asked calmly, eyes darting from the fight, back to Sil, then back to the fight again.  Although she didn't particularly like the onna-bushi, she didn't dislike her either, and civil conversation was not beneath the assassin.  If anything, she remained so perfectly calm and... almost <i>diplomatic</i> just to piss the silverbrow off, she could likely guess.</span></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 22px"><a class="externalLink" href="http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=454315" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">*</a></span></span>​</div><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>