<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">BUT THE SPIES HIDE OUT IN EVERY CORNER<br/>
BUT YOU CAN'T TOUCH THEM NO</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">The drow rolled her eyes,</span></span></span> uninterested in the human's threats.  If anything, she had grown more and more amused with the samurai because she had bothered to bury the orcs she had killed.  Had it been Sbatarra, she would have left the bodies were they fell, or perhaps positioned them to scare off any other intruders.  Another obvious difference between the two.  <span style="color: #9D612B">"If I was trying to deceive you or win you over, I'd bring something to the table to at least wager,"</span> the warlock said matter-of-factly.  <span style="color: #9D612B">"As for why I am here, I'm still trying to figure that out,"</span> she laughed, looking up from the black energies in the palm of her glove, to meet Sil's determined gaze with her own captivating, yet also nonchalant one.  She seemed very catlike; curious, yet quite bored as well.<br/>
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<span style="color: #9D612B">"Have you ever been defeated, Sililuthsauriva?  Given your name, and the translation and style of it, as well as the colour of your hair and fairness of your skin, I'd say you're a Silverbrow, are you not?  Draconic ancestry, no?"</span> she asked, head tilting to the side as she began listing facts and assumptions out loud.  <span style="color: #9D612B">"It's interesting, because I'm the same.  Well, not entirely, but I have a powerful ancestry as well.  I didn't choose to be born a child of the abyss, but there's not much you can do about that, is there?"</span> she chuckled, shaking her head slowly.  She wasn't entirely sure just where she was intending to go with all this, but she knew that she wanted to continue.  She had to get these things off her chest.  <span style="color: #9D612B">"I'll ask again.  Have you ever been defeated?  With that dragon blood coursing through your veins, the years of training and dedication to your art, mastery over a select few skills, and then, when you go out to do what you do best, you're suddenly met with a force that just cannot be stopped?  A force that decimates you, and by every right should have cut you down, but instead <i>mocks</i> both you and everything you've held as true in your life by <i>sparing</i> your life?"</span><br/>
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It was clear that the assassin was getting bothered by her ranting, as her teeth began to grit and her eyes began to shine, flickering with that uncommon yellowish colour.</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>