[<strong>Morgan</strong>(http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1028609)]<br/><br/>Morgan shrinks back a little, her arms hugging herself defensively as she backs away from the whole group. To say that she is uncomfortable is just the beginning of it. She was already shook up enough. Two of her travelling companions had almost died and she was surrounded by dead goblins and blood. This was hardly the sort of heroics you wrote any play about.<br/><br/>"I do not know if I can stomach this<br/>tis rather wicked to torment and kill<br/>someone captive, defenseless and meek"<br/><br/>She was still feeling squeamish from the blood she had spilled from her own wound and the thought of executing someone, even if it was a goblin, had her stomach a roil. She ducked behind the wagon and heaved her breakfast on the ground, clutching her ears in case torture or worse was afoot.