<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/94/Lili.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Lilliana McClae<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Ruins<br/><br/><strong>Attention:</strong>Vanairiel/OPEN<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"<em>...The time has come t'sing a travellin' song.</em>" Lilli's voice drifted off just about the time they came upon the gloriously old and craggy site of the castle ruins. That drift off of song she replaced with a low, comical whistle.<br/><br/>"Well ain' tha' a shame? They've le' the place go t'shambles." The gypsy announced loudly to no one in particular. Having been non-too-far behind the head of the pack, Lilli, like Vanairiel, watched Gori disappear. She turned in time to watch the wheels grinding in the elf's head.<br/><br/>"Dwarf's a cannonball w' legs. Hopefully if there is somethin' in there he'll jus' roll an' blas' righ' through i', eh? S'no like folk t'leave a whole house an' no' have laid ou' a few less than desirable things b'hind. S'writt'en all over yer prett'y face." Her tongue, much like her singing voice, was very obviously and very heavily accented. Not to the point of it being unintelligible, but it was<em>quite </em>the set of sounds that rolled off her tongue. Grinning, Lilliana shook her head and tossed a hand up through her riotous curls.<br/><br/>"... s'no unlike the land captian's face either when we t'ouched sand. S'like he's wait'in' fer nast'ies t'come ou' an' pinch us in the rear." She added wryly as she slipped a hand over one of the pendants she wore at her hip; a jumble of iron nails. Those pendants were not so coincidentally located near her largest knife. A handsome thing with an old, worn wooden handle and a well treated leather sheath. Her fingers brushed that too as she herself found her thoughts wandering toward trouble.