-<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Samuel Cutter</span></span><br/><em>- Mapper of Sewers</em><br/>-<strong>Character Sheet</strong>(http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8648); 10 HP (Current 10); AC 16<br/><hr/><br/>Samuel stiffened terribly at the entrance of the nobles, and his hand had slipped back into his vest pocket almost faster than the eye could follow it.  Worry and unease were written plainly on his face, and not even Belinda's assurances were enough to ease his frazzled nerves.  The room was quickly becoming a particularly ugly powder keg, and it was clear by his stance that he was quite ready to make his escape if things turned explosive.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Do you mean to say that this Great Man has lined up a job that involves an apothecary, a sewer rat, a gaggle of slaves and prostitutes, some fancy looking nobles and... me?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"And what exactly ah<em>you</em>?" he asked.  It seemed less a question and more a demand.  "Because from where I'm sittin', all I see is a right posturin'<em>berk</em>wiv 'is 'ead stuck so far up 'is own arse that 'ee cannae see the skyline fer shit."