<div class="floatleft">(http://ist1-4.filesor.com/pimpandhost.com/5/3/2/5/53250/w/m/h/N/wmhN/slaveelvenA.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 36pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;">Talanna</span></strong></span><br/><br/><strong>Elven, pleasure slave, cutpurse<br/><br/>HP 9  (current 9) AC 14</strong><br/><br/>Character sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8655)<br/><br/>Rising up from her seat,  the elven slave would cast a glance over the others.   She for the large part had been ignored.  She was the dirty little secret in the room.  Some she supposed enter the venture for nothing more then momentary gain.  Others to cause as much strife as possible and finally those with a noble cause.    Collecting her thoughts,  she would interject and now add her opinion.<br/><br/><em>"I am Talanna,  what everyone has said has merit.   Gain the  people on your side,  forget the mercenary armies.   Gain the people,  if they rise up the mercenaries will leave for a easier payday.   Give the money back to the  people.   Give them what the nobles will not.  Without the people coming over,  this is doomed to be nothing more then a nuances upon the ruling council.   Meanwhile divide your enemy,  get the ruling council to suspect each other of making a power play upon gaining total control.   Get them to fight amongst themselves.    Then again don't if all you want is anarchy to ensue.   Then you delude yourself that your making it better.   A balance has to be struck,  order has  to ensue following the shake up.  Less you are no better then savage humonoid tribes. </em><br/><br/>She would stop, she had no other words to speak.  Taking her seat again, she let the others think about her words.   Taking a sip again of her wine.