<div class="floatleft">(https://41.media.tumblr.com/bee027e5adc57e67fa696b5b58f985e9/tumblr_o3ykjeCqnE1tk4029o2_1280.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Piper "Sticks" Blackettle</strong></span><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Essentials</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>HP:</strong> 11 | <strong>AC:</strong> 17 (15 currently) | <strong>CMD:</strong> 12<br/><strong>Speed:</strong> 20 | <strong>Initiative:</strong> +4 | <strong>Perception:</strong> +6[/b]<br/><strong>Fort:</strong> +3 | <strong>Ref:</strong> +6 | <strong>Will:</strong> +2</div></div><hr/><br/>That she was last to wake was probably no surprise; it's not as if she were dosed by size, after all. The halfling shifted on the rough wooden floor, yelping with sudden wakefulness as a splinter scraped against one small but well-formed breast, leaving a little streak of red droplets. her eyes flew wide, and she tried to yell something... but all that came out was a dry-mouthed croak, followed by a fit of coughing, then a most unladylike spit, clear the ale and dust and the odd taste of nutmeg from the back of her throat.<br/><br/><strong>"Th'fuck,"</strong>were her first hoarse words as she looked around, blinking as her eyes adjusted. Forms began to take shape... the forms of<em>people</em>. All naked. All bound.<strong>"Oh! Oh, <em>fuck!</em> Fuck fuck fuck fukfukfukfuk..."</strong>She growled through clenched teeth. She began to jerk and squirm, careless of the show the others might be getting from that - she had bigger worries.<strong>"Not... <em>this</em>... slip!"</strong>She snarled as she tried to work herself free of the bindings.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Actions</div><div class="spoiler_body">escape Artist:<br/>At 2016-03-18 23:19:20, Sticks (uid: 27361) rolls: 1d20a8 Result: 18 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=86645)<br/>Unless her caprot was a sloppy drunk or used cheap rope or didn't account for halfling size... probably no good!</div></div><br/>With a cry of frustration, she finally flopped over to her side, huffing and a little sweaty. Turning her head, she looked at the snide woman (Katja) with a little glare.<strong>"You want to live your live as a Katapeshi candleholder, be my guest. Otherwise, might wanna start chewing or something."</strong>More struggling, still no good.<br/><br/>She finally takes a break - Sticks never gives up, let it be said! - to catch her breath, looking around quickly again. She was just bout to start again when the door threw open, and piercing light beat against her eyeballs. Against her sense of dignity she flinched away from the brightness and the booming voices. He's got a whip, and she's got an ass that she thinks looks better with skin on it. With a maximum of grunting, rolling, and awkward wriggling, she managed to press herself against a pillar and inch her way into a standing position.<br/><br/>Captain Harrigan?<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Knowledge: Local</div><div class="spoiler_body"> I'm just gonan take a 10 on hte Local check, since it's not pressed for time - total result of 16. What's she know about this dude?</div></div>