<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">DON'T BE AFRAID TO BE WEAK<br/>
DON'T BE TOO PROUD TO BE STRONG</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">Smirking still,</span></span></span> the warlock rapped her fingers against the hilt of her metal babble falchion, eyes narrowing as she listened to the chieftain explain the situation.  <i>A black dragon</i>? she thought, lips pursing as she considered the implications.  Just how many dragons would she run into in this week alone, full or otherwise.  <span style="color: #9D621B">"Wux tuor ve ekess letoclo lead vin assault ekess clax spical dout okarthel?"</span> she asked, tilting her head some as she regarded the group once more.  Although she was certain they were capable of defending their swamp from opposing tribes, a dragon turtle would be way too much for them.  But with Sbatarra, they might just have a chance of success, though she couldn't guarantee their survival.</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>