<div class="floatleft">(https://db4sgowjqfwig.cloudfront.net/campaigns/14025/assets/693075/17e1a21e10521e4137beb7cd26dd69a1.jpg?1485761171)<br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stat Block</div><div class="spoiler_body"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Stat</span></strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Value</span></strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Modifier</span></strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Save</span></strong></div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>STR</strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>12</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+1</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+1</em></div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>DEX</strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>14</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+2</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+2</em></div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>CON</strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>16</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+3</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+3</em></div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>INT</strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>9</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>-1</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>-1</em></div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>WIS</strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>19</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+4</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+7</em></div></td></tr><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>CHA</strong></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>18</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+4</em></div></td><td><div align="center"><em>+7</em></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><strong>Armor Class:</strong> <em>18</em><br/><strong>Passive Perception:</strong> <em>14</em><br/><strong>Initiative:</strong> <em>+2</em><br/><strong>Proficiency Bonus:</strong> <em>+3</em><br/></div><strong><span class="bbc_u">Features</span><strong></strong></strong><div style="text-align: left;"><em></em><br/></div><strong><span class="bbc_u">Spells</span><strong></strong></strong><div style="text-align: left;"><em></em><br/></div></div></div></div></div><strong>Name</strong>:<em>Lana Autumnmour</em><br/><strong>Hit Points</strong>:<em>43/43</em><br/><strong>Tagging</strong>:<em>Everyone</em><br/><strong>Mentioning</strong>:<em>Cordain, Lyra, Lotan</em><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Lana let out a high pitched squeak and instinctively jerked away from the sudden sensation of a stranger's hand intruding into places where unfamiliar touches were unwelcome. The priestess expected to see the painter when she cast a look that was equal parts bewilderment and outrage over her shoulder. He had been painting her for hours now after all, and it was hard not to start fabricating a personality for this man she barely knew by drawing parallels between him and the man he most reminded her of: her father. The world could have fallen apart around her father and that man would have greeted it with nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders, a smug grin, and a "Serves them right." It might not be the most noble sentiment she held but she was glad he was gone.<br/><br/>But it was Lyra that went scampering by, not Cordain, who now busied himself with packing up his work. Lana's patience was at the point where she had to consciously hold back the urge to snap at the elven woman, sheer willpower and foresight winning out by only the slimmest of margins. It would seem she was stuck with these people for the time being - partners she didn't want for a favor she didn't agree to. It was perhaps wisest to just brush the whole thing off as 'elves are weird' rather than make whatever time she was going to be forced to spend with these four individuals that much more unpleasant.<br/><br/>That isn't to say Lana's annoyance didn't show through. Lana's head fell as Lotan spoke, a hand reaching under her hood and rubbing against her face. Why was this even happening to her? If Lotan wanted people to solve his problem, Lana could have given him at least a dozen names of priests in the city she considered more skilled than herself. Given enough information and time to prepare, half of them would have likely come willingly as well. No kidnapping, no forced favors, no creepy painters or handsy elves. But Lana wasn't that lucky. Lana was <em>never</em> that lucky. Fate had a habit of throwing hurdles in the priestess' path; this one just happened to be more bizarre than all the rest. She could only shake her head at how little sense this day had made so far, and she had yet to even step into the portal that would let her walk around inside a magic tree and kill the things making it feel bad.<br/><br/>Lana scoffed aloud at her own thoughts as she wordlessly walked toward the portal, a barely noticeable amused smirk on her lips. The high priest always did say Lana would go crazy one day if she didn't stop and take some time for herself.</span>