<div class="floatright">(https://static1.e621.net/data/5f/6e/5f6ecf22aef9993bbc362959226192d0.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Zimora</span>(https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1649887)<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">NG Gnoll Investigator(Lamplighter)</span><br/>Location: sitting on the carpet<br/>Tagged: Everyone but no one in particular<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Statblock</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>[SIZE=+1]Zimora[/SIZE] (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1649887)</strong>[/URL]<br/>Female Neutral Good Gnoll Investigator (Lamplighter), <strong>Level</strong> 1, <strong>Init</strong> 2, <strong>HP</strong> 9/9, <strong>Speed</strong> 30<br/><strong>AC</strong> 17, <strong>Touch</strong> 12, <strong>Flat-footed</strong> 15, <strong>CMD</strong> 14, <strong>Fort</strong> 1, <strong>Ref</strong> 4, <strong>Will</strong> 2, <strong>CMB</strong> +2, <strong>Base Attack Bonus</strong> 0   <br/><strong>Brace, Double (10g) Weighted Spear (2h) (-) </strong> +2 (1d8+2/1d6+2, x3/x2)<br/><strong>Trip Sickle (-) </strong> +2 (1d6+2, x2)<br/><strong>  Dagger (3) (3) </strong> +2 (1d4+2, 19-20/x2)<br/><strong>  Hide Shirt</strong> (+3 Armor, +2 Dex, +2 Deflect)<br/><strong>Abilities</strong> Str 14, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 17, Wis 10, Cha 9<br/><strong>Condition</strong> None<br/>Ability Score Racial Traits: Flexible (+2 Str, +2 Con) (2 RP)<br/>Type: Humanoid (gnoll) (0 RP)<br/>Size: Medium (0 RP)<br/>Base Speed: Normal (0 RP)<br/>Natural Armor: Gnoll hides are remarkably tough, granting them a +2 natural armor bonus. (2 RP)<br/>Darkvision: Gnolls have darkvision and so can see perfectly in the dark up to 60 feet. (2 RP)<br/>Desert Runner: Prerequisites: None; Benefit: Members of this race receive a +4 racial bonus on Constitution checks and Fortitude saves to avoid fatigue and exhaustion, as well as any other ill effects from running, forced marches, starvation, thirst, and hot or cold environments. (2RP)</div></div><br/><br/><br/>Between the nimble, clawed fingers of the tall, gangly gnoll, a juicy peach seems to come apart in slices almost of its own accord. Half of it, anyway; it would seem that the claws of Zimora’s right hand have been carefully rounded and blunted.<br/><br/>Judging from the sudden disassembly of the peach, the claws tipping her left fingers have been treated in quite the opposite manner.<br/><br/>Sitting cross-legged on the carpet and draped in cheap, but clean linen, the twiggy gnoll watches the sunset; her eyes gleam with amusement, perhaps at the uncertainty of the servants when confronted by a gnoll who is also a seer, or perhaps due only to the flickering lamp-light which is slowly overcoming the primacy of the sun’s red last rays within the cabin.<br/><br/>It has been a bemusing day for Zimora.<br/><br/>The night before, the soft whispers which occasionally beset her dark-edged ears had turned her aside from an evening walk along the outer walls marking the necropolis’ perimeter, and directed her without explanation to a rather shabby room on the second floor of a flophouse edging the Veins. She was mildlysurprised to find her old bronze-edged wooden sickle (https://media.gettyimages.com/photos/sickle-with-ceremonial-inscriptions-wood-egyptian-civilization-new-picture-id185735718?s=612x612) there, leaning in a corner near the foot of a pallet whose renter snored loudly despite the noise she’d made passing the wood-bead curtain in the doorway.<br/><br/>Zimora had scratched a delicate bit of poetry in the wall just above his head, just a few couplets on the foolishness of stealing from seers, blended with an equally sardonic warning about not sleeping with his coin-purse beneath him in cheap hostels.<br/><br/>She left the coin-purse, though. There would’ve been some symmetry to taking it, but a man of the city who’d steal a ratty farming sickle, not even a khopesh, probably wouldn’t have the good judgement to see it that way.<br/><br/>She’d left the sickle at home again for this visit; it wasn’t as easy to explain as the slender weighted staff that leaned against her shoulder (or the iron leaf spearhead which fit the staff’s unweighted end and which was sheathed at the small of her back beneath the loose linens she wore).<br/><br/>All week she’d been wandering about near the necropolis, noting this group or that haranguing the Pharasmin priests for privilege to enter. Too many of them had a look she would’ve disliked even had the spirits not steered her away. Too much like those outsiders from beyond Osirion’s borders who’d tried to purchase entry in a lost tomb using the lives of slaves to appease its traps. Unprincipled. Untrustworthy. They were not walking the path she needed to follow. Today, pacing down the docks of the Veins, first one ship and then another had caught her eye. Finally, she’d wandered back to a rather fine barque, large enough and rich enough to have an actual cabin rather than the awning or tenting amidships of more common vessels. Her cinnamon ears pricked up to hear a sailor speak of the queries the boat’s owner was making. Adventurers. The tombs.<br/><br/>That was the one.<br/><br/>The gnoll seer wandered about a bit more. She had no pressing business that she could feel, elsewhere, but eventually she walked upriver, beyond the city a little ways, beyond where the linen-washers did their work but not so far as to encroach on some farmer’s irrigation-dikes. It was a place many who lived in Bargetown who were too poor to afford the public baths, nevertheless bathed, and after a habitual check for crocodiles she slid in near some of the others to get the dust out of her fur, claws hacking and digging carefully through her long, henna-stained braids to get them sorted out.<br/><br/>She’d returned to the barque a few hours later, fur fluffed and combed through with natron-water to discourage fleas, and the poor-folk’s kohl of char and papyrus oil carefully outlining her eyes with a flatter black than the tones used by the wealthy. The musky hyena scent common to all gnolls was tinged with a faint scent of almond, cheap in this city of perfumes and spices, but she’d made some effort be more presentable for a client of such obvious station rather than turning up with her usual ‘slightly mad gnoll oracle’ appearance.<br/><br/>Time well spent, she decided, as she looked about the fancily appointed cabin from her demure position on the carpet. After all, the servants weren’t looking at her with particularly more skepticism than she was used to getting.<br/><br/>…And one could never complain about fresh peaches.