<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/lB240Kg.jpg?1)      </div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Penn Bogues</strong></span>(http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=73849)<br/><b>AC:</b>19<br/><b>HP:</b>44/44<br/><b>Status:</b>Normal<br/><hr/><br/>Sera feels his elbow brushed lightly, in a direction from the joint of his arm back to the point of his elbow-- if Penn had drawn an invisible line on his arm with her gloved fingertip, it would be pointing toward the door.<br/><br/>Penn was immediately uneasy at the nature of the request.  Killing humans?  No problem.  Killing many, many humans?  Eh, it would take a while.  But this struck the fighter as too much gold, too much power and authority brought to bear against a foe-- not a foe they could track, or listen to in the dark to find its home, or smell out on the stone by its bloodtrail after it was wounded.  Ooh, no.  This was a country within a country. Surfacers and their infighting.  So vile... and so contagiously so.<br/><br/>She folded her arms under her breasts, shifting her weight from one foot to the other... though she barely stood to his chest, Penn stepped before Sera and rested her fingers upon her flanks just next to the pommels of her blades.  If she were a cat, her hackles would be raised, her tail swishing.  And if she were a cat, she might have even made a sound.