<div class="floatleft">(http://i58.tinypic.com/m801g4.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Ferren</span></strong></span><br/>Character Sheet (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=208925.msg10266297#msg10266297)<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Role:</strong> Mechanical Man</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Location:</strong> A Hot, Steamy Jungle.</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Tagging:</strong> Ngidi Ashia, Ramza/Nell, Illoryn, Iksenitrix, Anyone</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Content:</strong> Feeble Humans get tired. Kobolds are adorable.</span><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Ferren joined up with the group as they were travelling, his nature allowing him the speed they were declined. He could walk for days without taking so much as a rest; though he tried not to show off too much. If Iksenitrix became tired, he would carry her. There was... a feeling for her. It was somewhere between pity for her small size and a fondness borne of exposure. His neural pathways had become accustomed to her presence, and were she gone there would be no need for the subroutines that allowed him to comprehend her jibberish. Ferren had spent a fair amount of time constructing those subroutines, it would be a pity to waste his efforts. The rest of these meatsacks could trudge for all he cared, he couldn't actually carry many of them (though he'd never let on that he wasn't also a physical labor unit). He realized, as he walked, that he had never considered his scaled companion a meatsack, though she certainly was. Something about the cold-blooded nature of her gave him a feeling of kinship, as he had no blood to speak of, only liquids and grease. Why was his mind so focused on the small creature? He supposed it needed to find something to do on the long walk to keep occupied, and counting prime numbers only gets you so far.<br/><br/>He reports in to Iloryn, as ordered, and takes up a place in the marching order somewhere near the rear. Superior senses would alert him to ambushes, and robot agility would let him avoid the same. Things coming head-on could be capably handled by those in that direction, he hoped. It promised to be another few days of boredom. 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17...