<div class="floatleft">(http://www.drakonis.org/uploads/7/v/0/7v0ng7m0e3/2010/09/23/20100923140525-f61c0dcf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_u">Half-Elf Rogue:</span></span></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Lebanon Faltir</span></span><br/><em>Master of Locks and Thievery</em><br/>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8636); 10 HP (Current 10); AC 15<br/>Bolts:  10 in quiver<br/><hr/><br/>"Oh?" inquired the mysterious figure, directing his attention to Alexander, sarcasm lacing each syllable uttered from that shadowy corner.   "Do you mean to say that this Great Man has lined up a job that involves an apothecary, a sewer rat, a gaggle of slaves and prostitutes, some fancy looking nobles and... me?  You must be mad.  Or I should feel insulted."  A loud, wet snort followed; a thick glob of mucus splattered on the floorboards just inside the light's perimeter.<br/><br/>"Ha ha ha!  But perhaps I shall ply my skill at breaking lasses.  The more I think of it, the more I like it.  I've certainly broken my fair share of damsels in my day.  And you would be in charge of assuring that our women aren't getting pregnant.  I'm not boring enough to be familiar with your profession to know how you'd do it.  But you're well known and well spoken of."  Here, his voice carried with it a pregnant suggestion:   "People of all kinds know about you and what you do."