<div class="floatright">(http://i1300.photobucket.com/albums/ag94/Autocad-E/__original_drawn_by_dongho_kang__5f13cb71b6a4c32f38b39dd283544967_zpsdfyvxdk8.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Rala Kloth</span>(https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1651081)<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">N Human Ranger</span><br/>Location: sitting at a table, then the carpet<br/>Tagged: Zimora<br/><br/>For yet another uncountable time the foreigner from the north shore of the Inner Sea, her pale skin tanned by the Osirian sun, thumbed through the well-worn leather-backed journal left behind to her from her father. Strewn across the table in front of her were more notes and maps, a half-finished goblet of water forgotten on one side. She pored over the materials but no further wisdom or clues to the fate of the elder Kloth were to be gleaned from their pages.<br/><br/>Rala had been eager, too eager to set out once she had obtained the journal and pinpointed her father's last known destination to Wati. She had acquired plenty of book knowledge about Osirion but was nil in the department of practical experience, having spent all her childhood in the temperate fields and forests of Andoran. As such, fresh off the boat in Osirion she had stood out like a sore and then sunburned thumb, and almost fainted from the heat. That was but the first of many obstacles she had to overcome, from the language - who knew that most Osirians did not in fact speak the<em>Ancient</em>Osiriani she had studied so hard to learn - to all the rules enacted by the Church of Pharasma that frustratingly prevented her from entering the necropolis, so close yet so far from her goal.<br/><br/>The Kloth family didn't have much in the way of liquid funds, but they did have the family business and a few meagre assets to secure a loan. With it Rala hoped to be able to pay the tithe and hire a few workers to meet the minimum head count required to get in. Fortunately, before Rala could carry on the time-honored Kloth tradition of putting the family name under even more debt, her queries drew the attention of one Canica Russala, who through messenger proposed a sponsorship. She could have been more suspicious of this too-good-to-be-true opportunity, but after generations of cursed luck, Rala wasn't about to let go of this lucky break.<br/><br/>And that was how Rala ended up on the barge, with the rest of who she expected to be fellow adventurers of the expedition hired by the same sponsor. She figured that now was as good a time as any to get to know some of them. She joined the gnoll at the carpet, and it would have been a lie to say that she was completely comfortable, after all back home those kinds of monstrous races were seen as raiders and outlaws. Still she tried to keep an open mind and not be ruled by her prejudices.<br/><br/>"I'm Rala Kloth. Nice to meet you," she offered a handshake.