<br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/X0Yb6SU.jpg?1)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;">Ophelia Avredanni (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951899)</span><br/><strong>HP</strong>:34/34<strong>Phantom</strong>(https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1952418): in consciousness<strong>Status</strong>: +3 intimidate/survival, +4 mind affect saves<br/><strong>AC</strong>:12<strong>Initiative</strong>:<br/><strong>Actions:</strong>Strength check to hold onto mast for dear life<br/><strong>Roll:</strong>Strength: 17 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=138477)<br/><strong>damage:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>Ophelia had to admit, the lengths the dwarf had gone to for their dinner were quite admirable, the tiny man presenting himself every bit a gentleman. He had even again flexed his cleverness, listing an alias for her to cover her true identity, something she hadn't even thought about before but in that moment became so clear and obvious. She was no stranger to wine, though wasn't the best at holding her spirits, save for the more literal one she always bore. Still curiosity drove her towards the more exotic selections, intrigued by anything claiming to be elven in origin due to the implied fanciness.<br/><br/>Of course for as lovely as the dressings were, the meat of their meeting was less so. It did not surprise her that he so plainly addressed her...'condition', but it left her flustered all the same. Again she refused, with increasing firmness, to disclose any major details of her affliction, clearly for reasons more emotional than logical. However she did attempt to reassure him that whatever she carried with her, it was far different from the ravenous hordes plaguing the lands, and that if this necromancer were really strong enough to exert influence over it, then their power would be overwhelming enough that a turned spirit would be the very least of their worries. Aside from the awkwardly debated issue, the rest of the evening went well enough, but the princess had very clearly retreated back into her shyness, and while her opinion of the dwarf's character had improved, she was no less guarded around him.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Even having helped with it'd modification, Ophelia still regarded the airship with an almost childish wonder. And as they actually took off from the ground, the sheltered girl couldn't help but let out a frightened shout, staring over the railing as the city got smaller and smaller beneath them unveiling a fear of heights previously unknown to her. Not even possessing sea legs, much less<em>air legs</em>, the poor princess finds herself crawling on hands and knees to make it to one of the center masts, hugging onto it for dear life as they reach their drifting altitude, shaking like a leaf in the wind all the while.<br/><br/>Having been again rendered mostly useless, Ophelia could do nothing on deck but watch as the others moved about with much more purpose. Seeing the others the princess would let out a nervous, awkward chuckle, trying her best to put on a brave face, "Oh! A competition is it? What kind? I would not mind participating as well..." she called over to Lexara, Ember, and Amalea, completely oblivious to the nature of the dragon's request. Honestly she was simply looking for something to distract her from her steadily mounting fear of flying.