"I was joking dear, I'm more than fine with not having a child with you and I think Ibara and Amere would cut my dick off if I did. Or at least hit me fairly hard, I'm not really sure but the last thing we need is a Gnome pissed off at us. Well that makes two of us, Relene as a teenager is going to be a damned nightmare, and I can only hope that Amber stays as sweet and loving as she is now." Ras finished his glass and poured another then nodded. "Well, you'll have one more period that'll make you hate the world then they'll stop all together, but other than that that's all. I've tested it on quite a few women and it's always been the same results so I'm confident you'll be fine."<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">"Ok, fine, following me endlessly for no readily apparent reason. In case you hadn't noticed my back is covered in tattoo, I get them when something happened in my life that's worth recording." </span>She spun around and pointed to the center of her back where two skulls had been tattooed.<span style="color: blue"> "My story if you will, starts here. These skulls are when my parents were killed, I never lived up to their expectations and my surviving family made sure to remind me of that every day I continued to live in Westfall. Every other skull is when a friend was killed or died, and the rest is when I achieved or failed something, and yes, the tattoos are Trollish. The man who does them for me is blind as a bat, lives in a cave, probably as old as you look, and loves to work on me as a way of carrying on a lost art."</span>She turned back around and folded her arms.<span style="color: blue">"I don't need luck, I need to train, equip myself, and prepare. Don't ask why, ask why not. Why wouldn't you want to train and arm me? Why wouldn't you want to have a way to dispatch those that displease you while keeping your conscious and hands clean? Every god or goddess needs a champion, the Troll gods used their priests, you can use something a little more sturdy that has massive room for improvement."</span>She seemed suddenly very insulted.<span style="color: blue">"Massacre? That's implying a sloppy, messy, and poorly executed... well, execution. No, I would make a showing of it, it would be glorious to behold, something that would be remembered for a very, very long time. Perhaps, but my life means little more to me than it does to you, really you're just here because I amuse you and as soon as you lose interest in me I'll be dead again. Which is okay, as shitty as dying was it's still not any worse than being stuck in this life."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>