<div class="floatleft">(https://78.media.tumblr.com/ceba1dfd92f0800796a05ccf06c473d4/tumblr_oykkxvTqXS1v8y4o6o1_400.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Lucia Brati (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1367144)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Path to Restlands<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><strong>Active Effects:</strong>N/A<br/><strong>Initiative:</strong>+3<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>HP:</strong> 9/9 | <strong>AC:</strong> 17 (T: 13, FF: 14) | <strong>CMD:</strong> 15<br/><strong>Speed:</strong> 30 ft | <strong>Perception Bonus:</strong> +6</div></div><hr/><br/>The corner of Lucia's mouth curled upward slightly in dark humor as she listened to the superstitious fools spew their drivel.  Her amusement was tempered by Lorrimor's daughter, and the distress the situation was obviously causing the girl, and she moved forward to silently slip behind the redhead and accept her corner of the casket from her.<br/><br/>"You deal with the small-minded, hateful townsfolk, girl.  I got this."  She jerked her head toward the mob of religious idjits, and gripped the casket to settle it lightly on her shoulder.  It felt too light by half, and she wondered a bit if the accusations weren't true and nothing lay within the coffin but a few stones.  She kept her expression from revealing her suspicions, her dark gaze settled firmly on the leader of the group, her expression a mixture of unblinking intensity and scornful amusement, as if their fears were beyond laughable.  It wasn't her place to judge a man like Lorrimor if he went the route of Necromancer, as long as he wasn't making legions of undead to lay waste to villages.<br/><br/>Though...some villages could do with a little wasting.