For such a little thing, Sharille is remarkably fast... and the clatter and clang of her mad dash through the labyrinthine halls of the manor is enough to raise the dead. Hell, in the few brief glimpses of her that you do manage to catch, the woman seems to be frightening herself as much as anything... every crash of fixtures to the floor, and every slip of her feet over the noble's plush rugs, makes the halfling jump and run even harder, until she's finally bouncing off the walls because she's running so hard, and so fast.<br/><br/>ANd then, suddenly, you hear a loud<em>whumph</em>... and silence. Ahead of you, a door looms open... large, ornate, and covered with the broken crown signet of the nobleman you've been searching for so devotedly.