<div class="floatright">(http://i1246.photobucket.com/albums/gg608/ysariel66/sorceresssmall.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Shirin</span><br/><strong>Human Sorcerer 1</strong><br/><br/>HP: 12/12<br/>AC: 12 (flat-footed 10)<br/>CMD: 11 (flat-footed 9)<br/>Init: 4<br/>Saves: Fort 2, Ref 2, Will 2<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spells</div><div class="spoiler_body">Spells/day: Lv 1: 3+1<br/><br/>Lv 0: Detect Magic, Light, Prestidigitation, Read Magic<br/>Lv 1: Color Spray, Grease</div></div><hr/><br/><em>I will be as patient and gentle as a desert flower, waiting seven times seven years for the rain,</em>Shirin mentally chants to still herself, reciting 26:139 from Sarenae's<em>Reflections at Zenith</em>. It proves less calming than hoped, probably because desert flowers never had to worry about being led into mortal danger on the basis of a scribbled map, by a chirpy young woman who considered survival a kind of afterthought. For the second time in as many minutes Shirin wonders if this is really for real. Maybe there has been a glut of Pathfinder initiates and Shaine is trying to get rid of the excess.<br/><br/>Shirin controls herself mightily, planting a strained smile on her face. Proper upbringing does not permit her to point out that<em>her </em>idea of an ideal Confirmation involved large caches of gold, jewels and arcane relics, guarded by a priesthood of nubile, sexually available men and women who would proclaim her company the destined ones foretold in prophecy to receive this great treasure. Or, for that matter, to offer comment on his exceedingly clumsy attempt at a pickup line, with all the subtlety of off-tune moonlight serenading outside a prospective lover's window. Indeed, it is a wonder he did not welcome Tessa to caress the trunk of his mighty oak and touch her lips to his delicate rosebud, plus some other witty double entendre with 'penis' spelled six ways and upside down. Are all these Absalonians<em>this </em>blunt?<br/><br/>The hypocrisy of criticizing others for being forthright when one is wearing barely enough clothing to put in doubt the presence or absence of underpants is lost on Shirin. So is the fact that from Vannalys's perspective, inspecting her bottom beneath a loincloth not quite wide enough to hide the smooth, half-moon curve of her asscheeks, one can tell that Shirin's buttocks are clenched in the way of someone awaiting some terrible fate. "I am Shirin ibn Rashid of Qadira," she introduces herself, beaming a smile (this one genuine) upon her companions, turning to face them in greeting. "My ancestors before me were mighty sorcerers, and I pray I live up to their names and deeds. I would be pleased to aid on this endeavor."<br/><br/>She presents her belongings. There is some basic adventuring gear, a spare set of clothing, a dagger and some throwing darts. Inspecting the spare set of clothing reveals that underpants<em>can</em>, as a matter of fact, fit under her attire, provided they resemble more of an isosceles triangle of red silk connected by string ties rather than pants, under or over.