There was no denying it, the woman was huge. Six feet of muscle, bigger than most men, and somehow retaining a great amount of beauty along with it. Despite her build, Fiona Black still held a femininity about the rest of her shape, even though the lack of fat also left her with little to no breasts. Thankfully, for those who found her height imposing enough already, she was usually found wearing a decent amount of armor, a segmented mithral breastplate with pauldrons, gauntlets and greaves, which hid much of her bulk. The gloomy, dark clouds that constantly loomed over Baile Átha Caochladh, though lacking in rain, still made the city and surrounding countryside look miserable. Even the brightest of colors, such as Fiona's brilliantly red hair and vivid, jade green eyes, all seemed to be less radiant, more dull.<br/><br/>She stood in front of an enormous charnel house in the already grim city's less savory district, where the majority of the graveyards and other macabre things laid. Many things that were best left unmentioned went on there, though it was mostly graverobbing and other necromantic practices that occurred, and although she would easily fend off any of the would-be lords of undead, it was not her reason for being there. She was to wait until the moon had risen into the sky and, it being just at sunset, had a couple of hours to kill. There was supposed to be a mohrg that would make an appearance as his master's messenger. In the meantime, though she was strong enough, so she mused, to have an even chance against the foul, undead creature, she'd called for a few allies to meet her there, many of them being of as respectable of prowess as she. At that, she held one of her greatswords idly, staying aware of her surroundings so as to be at less of a chance of being affected by an ambush.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>