[Color=#5ca6ce][i][b][h1][center]Thess Ghostblade[/center][/h1][/b][/i][/color]
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Thess griped, not for the first thousandth time, about the coldness of the Frozen north. Grimacing at the frost on the walls. The Gith wondered, again, far from the first time, how these moronic northerners survived up in this frozen hell. Once the gate was reached, Thess decided she had enough of the snow. Picking up her miserable pace,Thess decided, first of anything, to find a God's be damned tavern or inn and get the hell out of the snow!