"That is where the Fists come in, though this time, the most minor of fingers will be the one that presses the hardest.." He looks with a vague smile to Whitney. From the kitchen door emerges a dark haired, brown-eyed beauty, a woman standing some five and a half feet. She wears dark boots visible under her most unlady-like green breeches held tight to her body with a sturdy brown belt. A black cloak with its hood down hangs on her shoulders; the glistening of a blade can be detected under the cloak. She smiles at Whitney and gives a short, deep bow, "Milady.."