<div class="floatleft">(http://ist1-2.filesor.com/pimpandhost.com/5/3/2/5/53250/z/b/4/H/zb4H/pfdf1tn.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><strong><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">Pantea Artemisia</span></em><br/>HP 52 (Current HP 52)  AC 21</strong></span><br/>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=9085)<br/><br/><sup><strong>Outside of Praven</strong></sup><br/><br/>Pantea whips a look at Ceara.<br/><br/><em>"You have no say in what is final.   If my elders in my order so decree or the elders of the city should decree.  For now I accept the paladin's  word he will watch you.   But if I think he is going to falter him and no one else will keep me from doing what is needed."</em><br/><br/>Pantea is not one to give false hope,  she sometimes is too direct and to the point.    She gather up her other gear.   An then looks to the three others.<br/><br/><em>"Lets go,  if we are to make the monastery."</em><br/><br/>A whole lot disgruntled with the turn of events.    Pantea would set off leading the way an woe if one of those other catgirls should suddenly appear in her path.   For the blood lust loomed close.   She found nothing cute about the plague.   Further more she also had a sneaking feeling the men had help make it worse.   By not keeping their dicks out of the catgirls.   An then passing it onto their wives.<br/><br/>Pantea give a glance every so often back at the others.   Especially to see if the newly turned catgirl Ceara  is nearing bolting.<br/><br/><br/>