<br/><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/4CudsTT.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Sister Victoria</strong></span>,Female Aasimar Rogue 3/Inquisitor 4 (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2283527)<br/><hr/><strong>HP </strong>42/42 -<strong>AC</strong>18, touch 13, flat-footed 15 -<strong>Perception</strong>14 -<strong>Spells</strong>lv.1: 2/4 lv.2: 2/2<br/><strong>Curses:</strong>Improved Orgasms, Stretchy, Slut Curse, Bioluminescence (appearance 16)<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: N'Trish, open<br/><strong>Conditions</strong>: disguised as guard<br/><strong>Actions</strong>:<br/><hr/><br/>Victoria kept herself tightly coiled as she passed by the first set of guards, prepared to spring to action at the first indication that they had seen through her disguise. Fortunately they showed no such recognition, and the Custode breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps Iomedae was still on her side after all. As she made it to the split in the hall she paused, glancing down both sides. One path held certainty, the path she had traveled again and again for 30 days, the path that would lead to easy freedom. The other way held uncertainty and potential ruin, but perhaps opportunity. Her gear, her vengeance...freedom for the others....Victoria froze, her eyes drifting back towards the easy route. It was beyond tempting, an assured escape. What need did she have of her gear? She would certainly acquire more, there was nothing that couldn't be replaced. And her revenge? She had sworn to kill the man responsible for her capture, and everyone who stood between them, but was that revenge truly worth her life? And the people...well what did she really owe them? She knew nothing of their crimes, whether they were guilty or innocent. Sharing cells didn't make them good people, or<em>her</em>people...and yet...<br/><br/>The inquisitor gazed down at her palm, the symbol of her goddess emblazoned across it, and as she did one of her faith's tenets echoed through her mind.<br/><br/><em>"My strength is not in my sword, but in my heart. If I lose my sword, I have lost a tool. If I betray my heart, I have died."</em><br/><br/>She clenched her fist. Of course, this wasn't about gear, nor about vengeance. This was about her soul. Taking a deep breath and blowing away any further hesitation, Victoria turned down the hall that led deeper into the dungeon, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for anything of note.