<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/74/ed/5e/74ed5eef10c825703fce975c55e5529c.jpg)</div><strong><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: gabriola;">Jazzy Feldspar</span></span></em></strong>(http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1053846)<br/>CN Gnome Druid (Feyspeaker)<br/><em>low-light vision</em><br/><strong>Init:</strong>+2;<strong>Hp:</strong>10/10;<strong>Fey Magic SLAs</strong>: 4/4;<strong>Faerie Dragon SLAs</strong>: 6/6<br/><strong>AC</strong>18 (touch 13, flat-footed 16);<strong>Fort</strong>+4,<strong>Ref</strong>+2,<strong>Will</strong>+3<br/><br/><strong>Languages:</strong>Common, Gnome, Sylvan, Druidic, Aklo, Draconic<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>After shaking hands and making with the introductions, Jazzy sat cross-legged on the floor in the midst of her party and shifted her bag to her lap.  Reaching in, she pulled out a large hunk of bread that replaced the gnawed chicken bone, which had been tossed carelessly over her shoulder and onto the floor.  She chewed at the bread as she peered up at the others, leaning back on one hand and, generally, getting comfortable.  "Right, so I'll remember that the cat doesn't have much of a sense of humor.  Why the hell is that so common with you archery types?  Is it something to do with you guys believing your own hype, or is it killing from a distance that somehow turns your hearts to ice?  I've<em>literally</em>never met one of you who wasn't all steely-eyed and grim as a fucking funeral."  She grinned at Saruma with a wink, then looked up at Sophia, blowing a dredlock out of her eyes.  "He's bigger than a breadbox, but not<em>quite</em>as big as your average house.  I keep telling him to go on a diet, 'cause he's getting fat, but he never listens."<br/><br/>"So, how many of you have ever been to the Greenbelt...or the Stolen Lands, period?  The furthest I've been is New Stetvan, myself.  My people desire to return to our home, but we know better than to venture too far south alone.  Even in groups, many gnomes have been lost to the Stolen Lands...or, if you're naive, then you can choose to believe they found a barrier thin enough to pass through to return to our true home."  She snorted softly to indicate her thoughts on the matter, though she couldn't entirely hide the sparkle of hope gleaming in her own glowing red-orange eyes.  Try as she might, she couldn't entirely shed the blood-born hunger for the First World, and the dream of returning.  Though she would deny it, and even believe herself to be telling the truth, she would have ventured on this expedition even without the promise of her life and freedom in exchange.