<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e2/KinseyPost2.png)</div><strong>Kinsey Mallowsweet</strong><br/>Character Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1586558)<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Current Hp:</strong> 21/21; <strong>AC</strong> 13<br/><strong>Passive: Perception</strong> -1; <strong>Investigation</strong> +2 (Darkvision)<br/><strong>Languages:</strong> Languages Known<br/><strong>Weapons:</strong> Rapier +4 (1d8+2), Dagger +4 (1d4+2)<br/><strong>Spells Known/Prepared:</strong><br/>Cantrips: Message; Minor Illusion; Thaumaturgy<br/>1st (4/4 slots): Charm Person; Disguise Self; Dissonant Whispers; Silent Image<br/>2nd (2/2 slots): Crown of Madness; Phantasmal Force (Hellish Rebuke 1/day)<br/></div></div><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><hr/><br/>Kinsey fought the insistent snuffling of wakefulness at the base of the door that kept her firmly locked away from the morning.  Trying to cling to the pleasant dreams of adoring masses, handsome husbands and the promise of matrimonial passions.  However, as was typically the case, sleep shirks the hands that grasp and she found herself pouting as she sat up in her bedroll, her lustrous golden locks a tousled nest amidst her graceful horns.<br/><br/>"I was having the most<em>glorious</em>dream..."  She yawned hugely and stretched her arms up over her head, before dropping her hands to grind her fists into her grainy eyes, whimpering at the sour taste in her mouth and the loggy feeling that lingered from the wine.  "I think I might have been a princess."  Her tone was unapologetically sulky, though more huffy than whiny, thankfully.  Still, she wasn't so thoroughly self-involved as to miss the changes around her and, despite her desire to roll over and try to fall back asleep, she pushed to her feet and peered about.<br/><br/>"Oh...well, this is troubling.  I don't suppose I'm still dreaming and any moment my deliciously broody husband will appear to whisk me away?"  Her eyes, large and hopeful, peered about before she reached up to give her bare arm a sharp pinch and whimpered once more at the pain.  "Oh, fairy dust!  Do you think the Vistani are playing some sort of elaborate trick upon us?"<br/><br/>She turned in a circle, before bending to pluck up her beloved lyre to huge tight to her chest, staring at that imposing - and terrifying - wall of impenetrable mist...from which<em>anything</em>might walk out and devour them all!