<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">The imps recognize the arriving PCs as the co-renters of the suite, so they will offer directions when asked. As for the door, it's open; Soma never closed it.</div></div></div><br/><br/>The thrill of being airborne isn't of much interest to Lin (she was raised, after all, in a house sixty feet above the ground), nor is the bleak, hazy scenery passing below. Her attention stays focused instead on Chrrou, her fellow saddle-bag passenger and the sole ally in this place with whom she feels a slight kinship.<br/><br/>The squirrel girl peers over at him when she thinks he is looking away; she tries to read his appearance and mannerisms while being subtle about it (though he doesn't miss much).<br/>She observes that he is calm and focused, yet also wary; plain-looking and seemingly meek, yet his eyes...his eyes have an intense strength to them...a strength she normally associates with predators.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Well of course,"</span>she thinks to herself,<span style="font-style: italic">"if he's going to deal with these other guys and their appetites, he'd have learned to show no fear..."</span><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">*grroglmomp* <span style="font-style: italic">*blorp!*</span></span>comes yet another bass rumble from the taut abdomen behind them, where Rihyan's<span style="font-style: italic">other</span>passengers are busy being processed into fuel for the wings that are keeping them aloft. The centaur's flank is radiating a tremendous amount of heat as well as palpable vibrations every time the powerful coils of muscle shift within.<br/><br/>Lin is a little unsettled by this (with the memories of her brief tour of Kahmori's gullet still fresh in her mind), though she's in no position to complain--<span style="font-style: italic">"It beats walking! &lt;_&lt;"</span>--and so far the centaur hasn't shown any interest in her as food.<br/><br/><br/>But as she sits thinking about the predatory inclinations of this group that has taken her in...a startling thought leaps into her mind.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Wait...why else would Chrrou be <span style="text-decoration: underline">here</span>, with a group of <span style="text-decoration: underline">preds</span>..."</span>she looks over at the druid, meeting his intense gaze.<span style="font-style: italic">"unless..."</span>She recalls the huge raptor body, 24 feet of streamlined flesh-carving muscle.<span style="font-style: italic">"...<span style="text-decoration: underline">that</span> was his true form?"</span><br/><br/>Chrrou notices that for no apparent reason, Lin's face suddenly darkens with fear and she adjusts herself so that her large tail is out of his reach.<br/><br/><br/>"Mister Chrrou...?" she asks meekly a few seconds later. "You...you<span style="font-style: italic">are</span>a mouse, right?"<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-weight: bold">&lt;after about a minute:&gt;</span></span><br/>Rihyan banks, spills air from his wings and comes to a soft landing at the entrance to the Jolly Barbazu.<br/><br/><br/>Lin starts to climb from the bag, then pauses to reconsider.<br/>"Actually..." she says to anyone who's listening. "I'm probably safer in here than on my feet."<br/>She settles back onto the blankets with only her unkempt head peeping out over the rim of the bag.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The door-imp unfurls his scroll and examines it with beady ember eyes. Once satisfied that none of the approaching customers are black-listed, he rolls it up again.<br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">&lt;inside the main hall:&gt;</span></span><br/>Lin's previous owner, the gryphon mercenary, seems to be really riled up about something.<br/>"...copper!<span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">COPPER!</span>" he pounds the table with a talon; the impact sends cups and coins bouncing.<br/>"I'll flay the scrawny hide from his back when I find him!" He drags his claw across the table, leaving half-inch-deep furrows in the dense wood.