<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://i840.photobucket.com/albums/zz325/mebygod/by_zompf.jpg?t=1256787901)</td><td>Peeling  back the hood of her worn gray cloak, a young woman reveals her bronze, angular features at the sound of the guildmaster's entrance.  Her cool, hazel eyes regard him and she tries to smile, but the expression doesn't quite break through the determination that keeps her stoic.  Her features are clearly elven... she makes no attempt to hide the angular eyes, nor the tell-tale ears of the old race that peak upwards through the coppery shroud of hair that teases at the base of their lobes.<br/><br/><i>And... here we go.  Out of the cloister and into the trenches.</i>She's remained aloof for much of the conversation, but she's absorbed what details she can, and she follows the other adventurers into the room beyond without a word, arms folded under her breasts, eyes alert and ready.  These people were adventurers... genuine, who had been tested on things that stabbed and bit and shot back... the most she'd had to risk in her training was a thrashing, and here?  She'd be risking her ass.  <br/><br/>Without her realizing, her full lips curled ever-so-slightly into a smile.<br/></td></tr></tbody></table>