<div class="floatleft">(https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Fg8RTFGOT4/WOPg27uL7qI/AAAAAAAAeGo/QgvxS8xwCXgoI1eyXWDi_lA3TbTyoGrMQCLcB/s1600/amonkhet%2Bwarrior%2Blius%2Blasahido.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Safir (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=333666.msg15891938#msg15891938)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">AC:</span></strong>19, touch 11, flat-footed 18, CMD 17<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">HP:</span></strong>45/45<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">EFFECTS:</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">PERCEPTION:</span></strong>+9 at least?<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong><br/><hr/><br/>Safir's lips curved faintly as Madame Morjiana declined to consult her harrow deck. He nodded, not pushing the subject, instead allowing her daughter to turn the subject to something more aspirational.<br/><br/>"In my homeland, there are tales of places called hot springs – springs of water that never grew cold. From what was said, such a place would have been enough to fit all of you at once, with room besides, before they dried up. It seems hard to believe, now."<br/><br/>Fruit. A warm bath. Such small, rare treasures in this fallen world, Safir mused, things the people of his homeland might now toil their whole lives and never experience. The stories of things like watermelons – fruits as big as a grown man's head, and sweet – seem like they must have been dreamed up.