<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/RZbgxUJ.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lorien Thay (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2490620)</span></strong></span><br/>Human Female, Ranger.<br/><strong>AC:</strong>15(+2 w/ Shield)<strong>HP:</strong>12<strong>Passive Perception:</strong>16<strong>Spell Slots: not yet<br/><strong>Effects:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/></strong><hr/><br/>It seemed quite suddenly that the already small study was turning smaller by the second as more trifling wizards flooded in to invade what little personal space Lorien had left. "By Gwaeron, must you all pile in here?!"<br/><br/>Lorien huffed as they came in, took up space and started ranting about magic and smut. "So, you all think this man got lost in a magic book? Feh! What a joke, this is why magic ought not be a toy, and that old coot should be out making his own damn smut tales, hip deep in some seedy brothel whore. If that's what's gone down, we need to get the bastard out. We've got a cursed town up north to un-curse and he's off playing the horizontal square dance with faeries!"<br/><br/>Huffing and exasperated, not only by the situation but by the lack of space. Lorien had grown accustomed once to sharing close quarters with many men and women, war camps being quite horny places while the soldiers weren't fighting. But her time after being a ranger out alone with naught by wilderness surrounding her had broken her out of that. Now she valued personal space a great deal.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>OOC note: Gwaeron, as in Gwaeron Windstrom. A lesser deity/ demigod. Most followers include goodly hunters, trackers and rangers.