<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/lB240Kg.jpg?1)      </div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Penn Bogues</strong></span>(http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=73849)<br/><b>AC:</b>19<br/><b>HP:</b>44/44<br/><b>Status:</b>Normal<br/><hr/><br/>Across the expanse of open ground at the gate, Penn sits upon the stone steps of the exchange with a clear vantage of the guards and the Marquis.  Her figure could be mistaken for a youth's at this distance, formless and swaddled in drab hood and cloak.  A moment's study, however, and one can make out dusky sheen of her cheek in the early-day's light, the pale bow of her full lips pressed to the tip of a long-stemmed pipe, and the piercing glimmer of her silvery-gray eyes as she studies the guards and, now, Shani.<br/><br/>She seems comfortable there, if a bit stoic as the day before-- unconcerned about social appearances or polite conversation, she smokes the pipe and watches with appreciation the stark contrast, even at this distance, between Shani's flowing movements and sinewy form and the stark confidence and rigidity of the Marquis' men.<br/><br/>A thin ribbon of smoke curls from her lips to dissipate into the morning air.  She watches them like an alley cat, making no effort to hide... simply waiting for Sera to finish his morning's business.  If Shani, or the Marquis, turn their face her direction to meet her eyes, she will remove the stem from her mouth and offer a broad, silent smile.