<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/DEdcyEB.png)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Grella Bonecrusher (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=342165.msg16270236#msg16270236)<br/><strong>Race/Class: </strong>Elc Barbarian<br/><strong>HP:</strong>23/23<strong>Armor:</strong>+1<strong>XP:</strong>x/7<br/><strong>Effects:</strong>N/A<br/><strong>Action:</strong>Introductions<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body">Strength: 16 (+2)    Constitution: 15 (+1)<br/>  Dexterity: 13 (+1) Intelligence: 9 (-) Wisdom: 8 (-1)  Charisma: 12 (-)  Damage: D10<br/></div></div><br/><hr/><br/>The towering Elc smiled at Katra and Valna as the knight asked about finding armor for her “I follow the old ways. Each scar in battle holds a story. Our bodies are used, enjoyed, and left behind to be read by anyone who cares. Can you say the same for your armor?” She bit into a donut and chuckled gently “And armor or no…” she said, while her mouth still worked the chunk of donut to the side of her mouth “we’ve still managed to both be here.” Her shrug was simple and straight-forward. What was the point of the armor if you still died anyway? She’d rather leave a corpse behind that had seen some action!<br/><br/>She listened to everyone, when she wasn’t trying to stuff her face with pastries that would give her nothing of real value. She knew what she needed, but she was at something of a loss as to how to get it. It sounded like people were upset over them being left in the basement. She wasn’t entirely sure what the discussion was about. She’d died and the small lady with the rather large chest brought her back…she supposed it was a take on ‘you keep what you kill’, except they were dead, and snatched back. Someoneor something had to be pissed off about that. She wondered if anyone else thought about that.<br/><br/>The appearance of Chinoise had given the Elc a sense of disquiet. There was something not exactly right about her that she couldn’t place, but whatever she felt was replaced with wonder as she saw her new comrade’s newly formed weapon. Talk of the Lunar Knight had perked up her ears. So that’s what that was. Heh. It couldn’t be helped. While she wouldn’t necessarily go looking for something like Moonlight Shards, if she happened upon some as a trophy…well…that would make them hers to do with what she pleased.<br/><br/>It didn’t surprise her that whoever was willing to deal in the shards would be tight-lipped about what they did with them. She wasn’t book smart, but she would put together that one didn’t usually want to ask what someone did with what you sold them. You merely took the money and went to the next task. She would be okay dying for a lot of reasons, but asking too many questions was one she’d take offense to! Once the messenger/delivery person revealed themselves to be living dolls. Grella couldn’t help but look at herself. Was she not the same? She was able to smile…but she wasn’t supposed to be here, and yet here she was. Kept alive on someone else’s whim. How was that any different from what she was staring across from? The progressive deep and unexpected train of thought was derailed the moment Juro declared that he was going to kill many people with the weapon, which made Grella thrust a donut upwards “Green for the grass that grows from the blood of battle!”<br/><br/>That might have been mistimed, and the arm was slowly withdrawn as goodbyes were said and business was offered. She looked at the flier and frowned “I know that inn…stayed there once. They said it was haunted, but it sounded like only people from here were getting snatched. I figured I had no issue…” but, was she wrong. “I can go into town to see if someone needs killing…maybe see if someone’s cooking venison…”<br/>