<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;">Dynamic entry! Heh. Good to finally be in.  <img alt=":-D" src="./images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" title="Very Happy"/></div></div></div><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">This is bad. </span><br/><br/>It was the first thought to flash through Rafe's head. As far as first thoughts in such strange and dire situations went, it was a very, very fitting one. He'd gone from the sorcerer's tower - mere moments from a rousing battle fitting of a hero - to being flung across time and space itself. In the bigger sense of things he knew he could be anywhere. Lower in the tower. In the forest. Hundreds or thousands of miles distant. The bigger picture was of a lesser concern, however, as on the smaller, more immediate one he was in something or someone's stomach. He could feel the warm soft walls squeezing against his body slowly and gently, undoubtedly sizing him up. Likely it was deciding how much acid it would need to melt him into a nutrient-rich sludge.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Don't panic!</span><br/><br/>Rafe repeated the phrase a few times. He had to remind himself. He had to remember the training. Don't panic. The first step to not being food is to not act like food. To not act like<span style="font-style: italic">prey</span>. He knew full well from first hand experience - both the controlled exposures of training and field work - what it felt like to have squirming prey in one's gut, what feelings and sensations it aroused and how squirming only heightened that sensation. How pleas and bargains - which might have been beneficial had he only stopped to listen - were so easily divorced of any<span style="font-style: italic">meaning</span>, little more than music to a predator's ears. He resisted the urge to squirm, sitting as still as he could, moving only to to counteract the stomach's movements. Letting it push him around wouldn't help much either..<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Can't panic. No fear.</span><br/><br/>He repeated it to himself, it was a litany. A constant mental dialogue to help drown out the sound of a softly gurgling stomach and the muffled thumps of a heartbeat somewhere above. The mantra ran in a sort of mental 'train' on tracks parallel to his first train of thought, which was quickly recalling other parts of his lessons, like what to do aside from not panicking. He maintained his grip on his blade with his right hand, the longsword pressing firmly against the interior of the stomach though in little position to do any sort of damage, the blue Luxum crystal that made up<span style="font-style: italic">Virtuous Moonlight</span>'s blade nigh impossible to make out in the pitch-black of the stomach. Rafe pulled his Wand of Cure Light Wounds from his belt with the left, clutching it tightly. In a best case scenario it would give him more time to work - whether via negotiation or attempting to hack his way out if what he had ended up in couldn't be reasoned with. In the worse case use of it would only lead to him experiencing digestion for much longer than he should have.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Gotta do something.</span><br/><br/>"GREETINGS!" he yelled out, loud as he could, praying whatever he had landed in was sane, sapient, reasonable, and spoke Common. "Whomever, or whatever you are, I am sorry to disturb you like this! If you understand me, I'd suggest you reply, as if I do not receive one within about thirty seconds I am going to assume I landed in some monster and start hacking my way out. Purely a safety precaution, you must understand.."<br/><br/>"I would also humbly request that if you<span style="font-weight: bold">do</span>understand me that you calm your stomach for a bit. I have an offer that would be in your best interest to not refuse," he added after a moment, the slimy stomach walls having reminded Rafe of their presence and of how little time he might have. "It would be rather hard to deliver whilst being digested alive, and while you may wonder what I could<span style="font-weight: bold">possibly</span>offer you whilst at your mercy like this, I assure you it is a most<span style="font-style: italic">lucrative</span>offer..."<br/><br/>He waited, his footpaws pressing firmly against the soft, supple walls, trying to keep them from pressing in on him anymore, aided in this pursuit by the invisible aegis of his Mage's Armor, his Shield spell, his bulky backpack and the threatening press of Virtuous Moonlight against the silky flesh. Mentally he ticked off the seconds slowly, trying to not get impatient, trying not to simply panic and get out right<span style="font-style: italic">now.</span>He had to wait. Diplomacy first.<br/><br/><br/><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;"><span style="font-weight: bold">Description:</span> Rafe stands a fairly average 5'10", the anthro wolf covered in a thick coat of white fur shot throughout with silver and gray over his light, athletic frame. He carries himself with confidence, a curious look in his pale yellow eyes, and a smile on his face. His fur already providing more than enough warmth, and more protective garments restricting enough to interfere with magic, Rafe dresses in little and dresses mostly for utility, as pockets are plenty handy, though it's be a lie to say a sense of looking good didn't play into the decision. A contrastingly dark tunic covers his torso, accompanied by a matching pair of pants, both embroidered with fanciful silver patterns. A study brown leather belt wraps around his waist, hidden under his tunic's fringe and equipped with plenty of pouches for easy access to various smaller items of importance - the larger items stored in the large leather backpack hanging from his shoulders. His signature weapon, <span style="font-style: italic">Virtuous Moonlight</span> a long sword with a blade made of the blue Luxum crystal, is typically kept in a sheath hooked into his belt, and a long knife typically hangs from the belt as well, mostly for utility purpose, but it's blade more than sharp enough to cut into flesh should Virtuous Moonlight be unavailable or Rafe unwilling to sully his claws. <br/><br/>His appearance gives off the feeling of trustworthiness, nonthreatening and knowledgeable. Seeming more a scholar or cartographer than a adventurer out to do good and smite evil with arcane might, all smiles and curious prodding - at objects, in places he shouldn't stick his nose, and with questions best left unasked. <br/><br/><img alt="Image" src="http://a.imageshack.us/img62/7150/rafe.jpg"/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><br/>Personality:</span> Rafe is idealistic in the extreme, thoroughly convinced that no matter the circumstances victory is always an option. He's the kind-hearted and amiable sort, all smiles and handshakes to most people, though he's not naive. Rafe knows very well the sorts of injustice and horror that fills the world, and knows many of those responsible for it hide behind false pretenses of friendship and faked smiles. Despite his honesty and friendly nature, he's inwardly guarded about whom to really  trust with his life. Additionally, he is intensely curious, so much so that he rarely likes to leave any rock unturned, unless doing so would be too dangerous to contemplate. Unsolved mysteries and unanswered questions eat at him, provoking him to keep poking and digging until he uncovers the truth - no matter how ugly it may be.</div></div></div>