<div class="floatright">(https://mfiles.alphacoders.com/766/766988.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Tula Elanorin<br/><strong>Class: </strong>Elven Hunter<br/><strong>Strength:</strong>Legs<strong>Vulnerability:</strong>Arms<br/><strong>Willpower:</strong>30<strong>Defense:</strong>9<strong>Morale:</strong>11<br/><strong>Bondage  Head:</strong><strong>Arms:</strong><strong>Legs:</strong><br/><strong>Conditions:</strong><br/><strong>Passive:</strong>Volley Fire<br/><strong>Passive:</strong>Skillful Precision<br/><strong>Attack:</strong>Projectile 2d4, Concealment & Thrust Kick 1d4<br/><strong>Cooldowns:</strong>Piercing Shot, Snare Trap, Rain of Arrows & Call the shot<br/><hr/><br/>She knew it was a trap. There was no way around it. In cases like this, you had to spring it to move forwards. But this was big. A dryad maybe, but the power she felt. She had expected immobilising vines, contact poison or spores. But not this. She fell, almost losing her bow. But she knew better.she however dropped the arrow. She landed with a graceful roll. Her arrows still secure in her quivers. At least she could still see in her darkness. Drawing another arrow, she guarding the rest while they struggled with the sudden darkness.<br/><br/>She noticed her friend Amanda. Yes, she was being “quirky”. At least the potion did something useful this time.she blushed at the times when it did nothing but embarrass her. Standing she scanned the area for any immediate dander as she walks over. “I have rope. Should be attached to my backpack”