<div class="floatright">(http://i741.photobucket.com/albums/xx51/Calliedelnoire/SorrowProfile.jpg)</div><hr/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Mistress Valerianna Tarn</span></span></strong>,<em>Tiefling Gunslinger 4</em><br/><strong>Character Sheet</strong>(http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8678)<strong>HP</strong>:34 (Current: 34)<strong>AC</strong>: 17,<span class="bbc_u"><em>touch</em></span>: 13,<span class="bbc_u"><em>flatfooted</em></span>: 14<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"> Init: +3 Perception:+7   Saves: F:+4 W:+7 R:+1</span><br/><hr/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Combat Notes</div><div class="spoiler_body"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Grit</strong>: 1 <strong>Deeds</strong>:<em> Deadeye, Leap for Cover, Quick Clear, Pistol Whip, Utility Shot (Blast Lock, Scoot Object, Stop Bleeding) </em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Revolver</strong>: +8; 1d8, 20/x4 Range: 20 Ammo: 6</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Revolver</strong>: +8; 1d8, 20/x4 Range: 20 Ammo: 6 (Silver Ammo)</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Pistol</strong>: +7; 1d8, 20/x4 Range: 20 Ammo: 1</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Longsword</strong>, MW: +5; 1d8, 19-20/x2 </span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Buffs</strong>:<br/><strong>-Potions</strong></span><br/><hr/></div></div><br/>Valerianna followed the crowd out of the inn, fuming. She was split between simply shooting the bitch and getting it over with, and shooting the prick Vlad. The bastard burned the bridge, was there to see the damn wolf and clearly had lied to cover his own slimy ass. She did a mental measurement of the distance between her and the vanishing inquisitor. With her pistols that would quite a shot. She wished she had the time, and stock to make something with more reach. Odds were if she DID get the smith to let her make two rifles, she'd be in trouble with the bitch.<br/><br/>Her tail twitched as she considered her options. There weren't many. She wasn't a tracker of note, she thought as she walked towards the bridge, pausing to grab her horse from the hitching post. At least she hadn't lost it when she was coming on the coach, the poor dear hadn't enjoyed running with the team but she wasn't about to lose it.<br/><br/>"Since when did NOT shooting someone become such a bloody pain in my ass?" She growled as she turned towards the bridge. Odds are at least ONE of the forest wise men from last night would be in that direct. It was too much to hope she'd find the second lycan at the same time but she had her gun and bullets just in case. Mentally she calmed herself by imagining putting a round right between the sheriff's beady eyes. It made her a bit calmer as she turned the horse towards her destination. It would be much more enjoyable in real life.