<div class="floatright">(http://i741.photobucket.com/albums/xx51/Calliedelnoire/SorrowProfile.jpg)</div><hr/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Mistress Valerianna Tarn</span></span></strong>,<em>Tiefling Gunslinger</em><br/>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8678) HP:26 (Current: 26)  AC: 17,<span class="bbc_u"><em>touch</em></span>: 13,<span class="bbc_u"><em>flatfooted</em></span>: 14<br/><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Buffs</strong>:<br/><strong>-Potions</strong></span><br/><hr/><br/>She watched as the others rejoined the coach, noting how each was. Last thing she wanted was as surprise Lycan on the next night, luckily none of them looked to be bitten. Of course, she told herself ruefully, odds were that Vladimir would cut their throat if he suspected one was infected. She paid close attention to the 'nun'. The whip was quite.. unusual as was her outfit's cut now that she could see how the girl pulled the whip out. There was only a few seamstresses and tailors that did that sort of work, and they didn't typically sew for priests and nuns.<br/><br/>She waited till everyone was on the coach and turned the coach onto the bridge and headed towards their destination, giving the horses their head as the coach pulled away. She wanted to get to safety to work on her gun, and see about making some special rounds for the other Lycan's eventual arrival.