Quitxi wonders if it's her imagination, or perhaps just wishful thinking, that she feels eyes on her as she slips into the doorframe... her black-clad feet cross, then straighten, and with a pivoting twist, she thrusts her blade for the nearest brigand's back, driving it home as neatly as possible.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><i>(Jeremiah, would you mind rolling for me?  My luck is just... atrocious... lately.)</i></span>