<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://i840.photobucket.com/albums/zz325/mebygod/by_zompf.jpg?t=1256787901)</td><td>Hearing one of the half-elves speaking of "business", Fallon holds at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a sigh.  She listens, mouth tight, and then replies.  "Fallon of Sune."  She lifts her hammer from its loop at her waist.  "One of these, some plate mail, maybe?"  She smiles then, lifting a brow with a nice mixture of flirtatious optimism and, perhaps, a skeptical challenge.  "All of us 'dumb sluggers' could use a little extra steel-- or mithril, or whatnot-- between us and the horde."  She winks subtly.  "You can even measure me, if that would help?"</td></tr></tbody></table>