<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Wren DeMarco, Human  Rogue/Swashbuckler 4th/2nd</div><div class="spoiler_body">HP:   46/46      AC:    19<br/>Bab:   +5      AC(Touch):   13<br/>TAB:   +7      AC(Flatfoot):   19<br/>Range:   +8      Init: +3<br/>Current Effects:<br/></div></div><br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>Wren had arrived several days prior to the others, her usually restless soul had made it impossible to wait patiently; she enjoyed flirting with the men, having drinks with the locals in a tavern of the evenings (To pump them for any details of her potential employment... and breaking out in laughter that nearly copied that of silver bells at any time she saw the masked one acting like a thief, or cut throat on the prowl for, well, whatever he was prowling for. For all Wren knew, he was just trying to be unnoticed on his way to have intimate relations with a duck. Not that she cared, really. Whatever floats your boat and all of that.<br/><br/>The rest of the time, when not in the far too rich insides of the castle, not to mention the temptations to liberate certain items of suppression to it's freedom, she spent at the docks and strolling the city, where she presented a pleasant, mildly naughty storyteller from far off, exotic lands with strange people and customs.<br/><br/>spoiler=OOC]<br/>I don't suppose that she could of picked up a couple of coins as a storyteller? lol<br/>[/spoiler]<br/><br/>The day of the big event wasn't unexpected, you don't invite and pay adventures for their company, after all; they<em>were</em>there for a job; so it took her a little off her guard at the question posed by the masked one. She just remained leaning against a wall and listening to the details. She contemplated who would fill what roles within the party; she almost giggled as she considered the masked one (He had yet to introduce himself to her)  as the "face" of the group.