<div class="floatright">(https://db4sgowjqfwig.cloudfront.net/campaigns/14025/assets/425590/002.JPG?1424032406)</div><strong>Salimah Bahar</strong>(http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=1119801)<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Normal<br/><strong>HP:</strong>10/10<strong>AC:</strong>17<strong>Saves:</strong>Fort +4, Reflex +2, Will +5<strong>Init:</strong>+2<br/><hr/><br/>Salimah stood amongst the crowd of adventurers, her hands folded in front of her lap and her head bowed, both in reverence to the high priestess and because of her perceived solemnity of the situation. This was the moment where her church would publicly surrender, having lost its battle of words with the Ruby Prince. It was enough to turn her stomach and sour her mood. Thankfully, her thoughts heeded Sebti's call for silence, Salimah's lingering bitter thoughts pushed aside and replaced entirely with Sebti's retelling of Wati's history.<br/><br/>It was a story she had heard a thousand times, but something about the way Sebti told it and the surrounding circumstances had combined to strike a chord with Salimah. Salimah's eyes closed tightly as Sebti continued, fighting back the emotion that she felt building behind her eyes and in her throat. Still, she couldn't help but unconsciously nod in agreement several times throughout Sebti's speech. It wasn't until the speech came to a close that Salimah showed any signs of life, her arms moving in front of her to match the movements of the priestess and the natives among the assembled crowd.<br/><br/>Finally, as the lottery begins, Salimah looks up, taking in the crowd for seemingly the first time. It was almost disgusting how many people had shown up for the spectacle - but tragedy always did have a way of attracting curious eyes. But it was the adventurers in the crowd, those proudly displaying their combat gear and practiced fake smiles, that held Salimah's scornful gazes. She could see the greed reflected in their eyes and faces, saw how little Sebti's words and warnings meant to them; they were no better than buzzards, swooping in for an easy reward at the slightest sign of weakness. Most of all, they were dangerous; they were foes to be watched as she wandered the necropolis for...whatever it was she was looking for. Pharasma's plans were often difficult to comprehend but if the Lady of the Graves saw fit to save Wati and all of Osirion, there would be something in there meant only for her. She knew it.<br/><br/>That is why Salimah dismissed Tgamo's impatient questions with a simple shake of her head. Fate had a plan for her, and by extension, all of those she had chosen to travel with; their name would be called when it was time for their name to be called. Explaining that to Tgamo in a way he would understand was a task she didn't feel up to at the moment though, her dulled mood also dulling her desire for conversation. Then, as if fate itself wished to sate Tgamo's impatience, their name was called. Awkward moments passed as it occurred to Salimah that the party had never actually discussed leadership in their short time together. She looked over to Tgamo with raised eyebrows, meeting his gaze as he looked toward her. The fear and hesitation he wore on his face were easy to read and Salimah's initial look of confusion turned into an amused smile as she looked upon him. Always the thoughtful one, Salimah was the one to step forward, making her way confidently toward the acolyte that had called out the group's name and greeting him with a respectful bow of her head.