"Special?" Viloet echoed, leaning back and arching an eyebrow, "I've heard that before, though usually from drunkards at the inn. Still, I wouldn't call my particular penchant for getting into this sort of trouble as...<em>special."</em><br/><br/>"I mean..." She began to explain, rubbing her head, "I guess I get into this sort of thing all the time. Not really what you'd call swashbuckling or adventuring, but..." She sighed, "But I'm still here, so... maybe."<br/><br/>The halfling looked up into the ceiling, as if to directly address the celestials themselves. She flung her arms out to the side with exasperation, "I suppose it's better than being eaten or turned to stone."