<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/8e/9f/07/8e9f07754d1df0b7526d76ff267edd4f.jpg)</div>Name: Evan Tempest'ive (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=906851)<br/>Tagging: Lauriel, Maria<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">~Legend~</div><div class="spoiler_body">Blue text= Common   Green Text= Elvish   Pink Text= Sylvan   Italics= <em>Thoughts</em></div></div><hr/><br/>Evan, still taking delight in his no longer empty stomach, pointed his fork in the direction of the fine silk shirt ripped on to a post in the front of a building. "Well here is a clue from a culprit. Whoever is party to this has a pension for nice clothes, and is probably shirtless. A shirtless guy is a copper a dozen, but a shirtless chick would probably cause some commotion, or at least some keen onlookers. We can check it for blood too, I guess."<br/><br/>Evan did not have much information on urban environments, let alone this town in particular. But odd are that there are few shops around here that carry such fine goods, being damn near a post war zone and whatnot. Hell, it may have even been a traveling band of misfits and are now long gone.<br/><br/>*Munch* "So, do we ask around here for the nearest tailor of fine goods, or to find shirtless person who likes to get into fancy pants?"<br/><br/>...