<strong>Gabriel Brewer</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GcbkX3M8pQbn33cIAG_GW-HVLeCnccV-_JdtNVqnlxk/edit)<br/><br/>Nude save for the circlet's they'd all been wearing, a tall man, broad and body sculpted, groaned as he awakened.  He straightened up, sitting tailor fashion, raven black hair spilling around his shoulders to the naval and down his back to the small.  “Valtyra?” he called, looking around, more than a little confused.  “Are you around here?”<br/><br/>Confused memories drifted about in his mind as he observed the scene, and his fellow specimens going about retrieving their things and looting the place.<br/><br/>Yes, they had definitely been specimens.   He remembered the two cruel and odd looking researchers, and the goblin—one of their secretaries—that was his corpse over there, wasn't it?<br/><br/>Gabriel carefully cleared out the last of the cage so he wouldn't cut himself passing through it, and carefully picked his way through the glass and debris.  Digging through the chests, he found Valtyra's things in one, his own in another.  The sight of the sorceress’s dark purple robe brought back clear memories of taking it off of her before they went to bed—when was that?  He'd told some stories at a tavern, then there had been dancing, and he and Valtyra slipped up to bed together, laughing and loving and...<br/><br/>Then the confusion.<br/><br/>Gabriel pulled on small clothes, padded dusty purple leather pants and linnen shirt that brought out the alien beauty of his amethyst eyes.  Next came boots, then a carefully fitted steel breastplate.<br/><br/>He offered his fellow specimens a wave and a smile as he continued to gear up.  “Well met, Joula, Taavia.  I'm Gabriel Brewer, Dedicated of the Lord of the Morning.”<br/><br/>HE worked a copper and gold bracelet in the form of an Asian dragon up over his fist so that it coiled around his forearm.  Then he slung a bastard sword over his back and fished out a hefty leather bag.<br/><br/>“Are there things I can help with?”