<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/35/cb/3a/35cb3ac7c6ea676714cb56a4b2e10351.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Ebba Losho</span></span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Race/Class: Cacklebone Oracle 1 (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1024676)<br/>Status: Normal<br/>Str: 14(+2) Dex: 14(+2) Con: 13(+1) Int: 14(+2) Wis: 10 Cha: 16(+3+)<br/>AC: 17  HP: 9  Init: +2</span><br/><hr/><br/>Ebba passed through the gates of the residence, her spear in one hand, used as a make-shift walking stick from which leather cords, braided and adorned with bits of bone, hair, carved stone and glass beads, dangle.  The assortment of odd trinkets clattered softly against one another and the hard wood her spear was carved from, serving as the only herald of her arrival, as her bare feet did not so much as whisper against the stones.  Her dark eyes, betrayed by a hint of orange-hued animal shine when viewed obliquely, rose to gaze up at the house as she slowly approached, her lips set in a relaxed line.<br/><br/>She stopped at the door and knocked firmly, her hand falling to her side as she waited.