<strong>Name:</strong>Valentine Karskaja<br/><strong>Professions:</strong>Investigator / Alchemist<br/><strong>Damage Capacity</strong><br/><em>Physique:</em>5<br/><em>Agility:</em>3<br/><em>Intellect:</em>5<br/><strong>Defense:</strong>12<br/><strong>ARM:</strong>10*<br/><strong>Feat Points:</strong>3<br/><hr/><br/>"Then, let's make haste. This way, as Oda says." With the first crunch of her pretty boots into the deeper, rarely tramped snow, Valentine regret the vanity of the autumnal shoes she wore only for the chapel. But, she would survive.<br/><br/>~ ~<br/><br/>".... reached as far as his loping ape arm could reach into the hog pen, and of course, the thing turned around and bit him. And of course, since it happened at market, it went into the paper." Valentine stopped, for the dozenth time, to get her bearings in the dark. She had traveled one way in this darkness, but never the other, and so she was ever turning around, regarding Nynsk from a distance. The workshop occurred to her suddenly. "Here. Would you strong boys bring her inside?"<br/><br/>A pair of rabbits scattered from the heap of lichen so recently scratched from the wood roof as she crossed the barren yard. Only the hardiest of plants could endure what she and Oda did to the soil here. Up on a mound of earth over this killing field, on hinged steps that pulled up to turn away curious bears, a summer's work on vertical slats of rough hewn timbers stood like an unwelcoming fence. In the arches of fieldstone beneath were tucked heaps of lumber enough to endure the long winters of old wives' tales. Valentine put a grain of faith in them.<br/><br/>The steps creaked to announce Valentine. Through a strong wood door that presented no purchase for mountain cat claws, Valentine began to light everything that could be lit. There was never a shortage of tallow here. Her knit wool button hat pulled away, and the fog disappeared from her breath. The first buttons loosened from her fur-lined greatcoat. A wool blanket that had come back from the sauna hut pilfered from the baskets and spread out over the long seat that could comfortably nestle a body under six feet.<br/><br/>An unconscious Nyss with no symptoms of exposure was due to arrive. The mind of Valentine was a growling, primeval thunderstorm turning itself out for answers.