<div class="floatright">(http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2013/049/b/8/cleric_copy_by_yamao-d5vddiv.jpg)</div><strong>Dale, Human Crusader</strong><br/><hr/>Dale was among the first people there on the morrow. He was eager to begin this mission, and wondered what horrors they would face today, horrors that needed to be cleansed and purged from the world before it could continue upon its natural course. While he would have been far happier punching some pseudonatural creature from the Far Realms in the face, he looked forward to ending the horrors of the undead, who were almost as strange and unnatural as the strange beings he had seen outside the monastery in his youth or that he had fought on the few times he had faced them since.<br/><br/>He wasn't sure how he felt about his companions yet, but for now remained quiet. Anton felt a little... off to him. What kind of decent, law-abiding man kept his face behind a mask? And kept switching them? It seemed strange, almost as though the man didn't know what his real face was anymore and had to run to the mask to decide his own emotion and how to deal with things. It was ... strange, to say the least. Still, the words he said were ones that Dale could relate with, though he was unsure how much he wanted to cause mayhem and destruction in the middle of a ... 'lavender-scented brothel', to use the man's own words.<br/><br/>Wren seemed like an impetuous half-grown girl to him; she flounced about as though she were out on a lovely stroll rather than preparing to enter a monster's den and fight it on its own ground. He just hoped that he could count on her when the fighting became thick; many a man he had counted on, and been sure would stand by his side had run fleeing when the hoardes of evil descended, and he still bore scars from those experiences, though fortunately he had escaped them with little more than his life intact.<br/><br/>The wizard was... well, a wizard. Mysterious were their ways, and there was little to understand about them. He had never really gotten the whole 'spellcasting' thing down, regardless of how many times the monks had explained it to him, leaving him a little distrustful of such matters. It didn't make sense--wave your arms like a lunatic, speak gibberish like a madman, and suddenly a fireball exploded? He half-suspected that it was an unnatural abomination, but the priests, city guardsmen, clerics of Mystra, and many other people had hammered it into his head that it was natural and fine and that he shouldn't make a big deal of it. So he didn't, though some hesitation still remained in the matters of the arcane.<br/><br/>Then there was the woman who had accompanied Adrian. At first glance, he had felt something unmistakenable and magnetic about her that pulled at his pantstrings, but a moment later he had noticed her enormous bosom, and that had put an end to that. He enjoyed them at a decent size, but that just seemed... exaggerated. Over the top. Strange. He wondered if there had been magic involved in increasing her bust, and the micro-expression of a scowl passed over his face at the shame of it. If she had not had such strangely enormous breasts, he would have definitely been interested in her, and he could still feel some part of him wanting her, but the strangeness of those gigantic tits turned him off almost entirely. Not to mention her wardrobe--or lack of it, rather. There was classy, and then there was the dressiness of a harlot, and she seemed to favor the latter strongly, another thing that left him with a distinct lack of attraction. She could have been so amazing had her proportions and clothing been appropriate, but unfortunately that wasn't the case, and it didn't appear to be changing any time soon.<br/><br/>He listened to the others flirt, and turned to look at Sim as she spoke, his gaze passing over her for a moment as she joined in with the playfulness between them. While she was homely compared to the animal magnetism exuded by the one called Shezzerade, he found her far more attractive with her more normal proportions and deep red hair, a color he favored in women, followed closely by brunettes. Still, it was strange to hear so many people flirt so openly like this, and he wondered how they had been brought up to act this way--or perhaps it was simply the city way. He was no stranger to bedding, but it was not something displayed openly like a banner. Things had their time and place, and the place of these things was usually behind a locked door under the cover of night. Still, he supposed, being open-minded could be a good thing, and he might learn a thing or two from them.<br/><br/>"A mace will work just as well," he answered Wren. "Though if we have to take the time to place them well and hammer them into place, we probably won't live long enough to tell of the tale while our energy is being sucked out of us," he said dourly, taking his portion of the potions as well. At Adrian's words, he nods and hefts his mace. "In that case, I suggest Wren and I join you. From my understanding, she has some skill with the blade. I shall focus upon ensuring the necromancer casts no spells and does not escape while providing support... though you may wish to switch to a sap if we want to knock them out, rather than killing them immediately," he adds, having been around enough rogues and thieves to recognize their strength, and her abilities.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Slight metagaming here to assume Wren's abilities for sneak attacks, but I figure sneak attacking is so common in the world that it wouldn't be hard to figure out that that's what she specializes in. If that's not cool, let me know and I'll change the post.</div></div>