"Wait. What?" Eponine asks, momentarily taken aback. "Who's them?"

"Put the crossbow down please, we're all just here to help," she says, raising her hands placatingly and stepping forward without fear (or sense of self preservation). Despite the weeks of travel her armour still shines under her travelling cloak and her friendly smile is still radiant despite a few muddy smudges. Does this pretty girl really look like a bad sort?

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Diplomacy (1d20+6)[16]