<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 accepted wine with a gleeful smile and then blinked as she sipped, peering into the cup with a curious expression.  "Oh, this is very good!  Much better than the wine in most taverns, which is<em>really</em>just grape juice that's gone off.  If you're lucky.  Sometimes it's fermented potato peelings or, in one rather gloriously<em>bad</em>instance, fermented beets!  Boy, did my head hurt the next day.  And I nearly fainted when I used the chamberpot...it turns your water pink, did you know?  I thought something had gone very wrong inside of me."  She giggled brightly and took a long sip of her wine, joining the others at the fire to listen to the old man's tale.<br/><br/>She leaned forward with interest as he spat into the fire, her pale green eyes alight with interest and wonderment, her hands curled around the bowl of her cup.  Raptly, she listened to the story and watched the figures in the flames, finally falling back and downing what remained in her cup as she flopped against the log at her back, striking a pretty pose draped over it with one hand clutching her heart.  "What a beautifully tragic tale!  To think, such a dashing, heroic, generous prince struck by a wicked curse and turned to a cruel tyrant..."<br/><br/>Sitting up, she extended her cup to be refilled and looked to Stanimir, lips curled into a winsome smile and her golden hair like molten metal in the light from the fire.  "I wonder how one would free the poor prince from his curse.  Perhaps a kiss from a beautiful maiden...or there may be some wicked witch working her wiles in the wings!"  She rose to her feet, gesticulating gracefully and theatrically with her free hand, careful not to spill her wine.  Her brow furrowed at the thought of that evil, imaginary witch, and she sipped her wine, the sound of music quickly drawing her attention from the story.  She perked and hurried to fetch her masterfully-crafted, artful lyre.<br/><br/>Finishing her glass of wine before joining the others in music and dance, she played her lyre and moved with an unearthly grace, her full hips undulating as her fingers deftly plucked and stroked the strings of her instrument.  Small feet scuffed in spritely, nimble steps through the dust, making her ample - and artfully displayed - assets sway and bounce to the music.  Her enjoyment of the entertainment was as clear this night as any other they had spent with the Vistani, though she stopped for many breaks to enjoy the wine and conversation.