<span style="font-weight: bold"><a class="postlink" href="https://www.dropbox.com/s/0oc8e6lpj1qbt48/Darknaga_hungryeyes.pdf?dl=0">Eurikova</a></span><br/><br/><img alt="Image" src="http://i.imgur.com/qfPL0hx.jpg"/><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://orokos.com/roll/318005">Perception</a>:<span style="text-decoration: underline">1d20+11</span><span style="font-weight: bold">17</span><br/><br/>Well, the situation couldn't have been better for an ambush, that was for bloody sure. No cover on the valley floor, a ramp of mostly loose stones one way, a sheer cliff on the other; there wasn't much space for her to find somewhere to hide, which meant that she and the others were completely exposed. Treasure at the end of the way or no treasure- and Eurikova certainly had no fear of the dark, under or otherwise- the getting there was wearing on her nerves. She'd been a little jumpier than normal ever since entering the valley, and after the fourth time her head swiveled to try to track a noise that wasn't there she reconciled herself to just straining at ghosts. When the others all heard a real noise and she didn't, this was not particularly helpful to her state of mind. After all, if a<span style="font-style: italic">real</span>bandit group attacked them here, she was as likely to do her best dark scaly noodle impression as she was to slither a little more weighed-down the rest of the way to the pit. When the others started talking about people, and calling out, she drew her swords- in deference to at least the possibility that whoever was stealthily stalking them didn't intend violence, though, she didn't let the first one light on fire and the second on frost.<br/><br/>"You're sure." She says quietly, not asking a question but rather stating a fact, lifting her eyes to peer at the ridgeline. Well, she'd been traveling with these three for long enough that she knew to trust their judgment in return for having hers trusted. A strange feeling; back at her... old home, nobody much trusted anyone, which was generally wise since a bad night could end with being digested, having your soul bound to another initiate's rump, and then offered up as a surreptitious sacrifice to ravening demons. One quickly learned the value of paranoia in a place like that, and even years since abandoning the cult the naga hadn't quite entirely lost those habits. And every time one of the others got a taste of her, she at the same time felt a stab of fear that this time they'd betray her and a stab of pleasure at the feeling of a tongue, teeth, or mouth on part of her body- lingering 'issues', including frequent training on what it felt like to be eaten, complicated this response as many others to her new friends. And of course there was the minor issue that, technically, she had an outstanding contract to kill one of them. Infuriatingly, her early attempts to do so had not only failed, but failed in such a way to utterly humiliate the assassin. Miku had to have some secret, and that was why initially she'd kept traveling with the woman- well, that and the nighttime warmth- but after so long observing her, Eurikova was coming to the uneasy conclusion that... no, actually, there was not secret. And now Miku had another close scaly friend, and the opportunity for an easy kill was well and truly gone. She couldn't give up the contract, but... well, there were other ways of making money, one of which they were pursuing now. And Eurikova did adore money. Maybe someday she'd get the chance to fill her contract. But that was all for the future- for now, she raised one hand to her brow the shield her eyes and peered at the ridgeline. "I just hope the treasure's worth it-" she replies to Miku, stiffening noticeably but briefly when she sees the look in her companion's eyes. "And- fun after fighting, remember. Not before."