<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://i371.photobucket.com/albums/oo154/PhantomPistoleer/Elf_by_artbytravis.jpg)</td><td><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 30pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Edwardian script itc;">Draque Cyredeplith</span></span><hr/><tt class="bbc_tt">Elven Rogue/Ranger, Level 3;<br/>Current HP: 25; Condition: Normal (Cold/Drenched);</tt><hr/><br/>He grinned at Miaren, but she probably wouldn't be able to see it.   "No, elves cannot see in the dark, but only whence shadows make their approximations."  That was a fancy way of saying that if shadows could be made, he could see.  But otherwise, impossible.<br/><br/> "This is a mighty fine way to die," he added in a whisper.   "Here you are, Draque, in the company of good looking women, looking to save some other women, from a giant.  I never know when enough is enough.  My life story, I suppose."</td></tr></tbody></table>