Michael
It had not been a particularly interesting day, all things considered. Grey had expected to arrive in the city around noon, which they did, and then... Well, who knew what would happen in the thieves' capital of the world? Not much, apparently. Well, Grey supposed they'd just gotten lucky, this time around. Last time they were here, a few decades back, they'd been robbed blind in an instant, without even noticing. Whoever did it must have been quite impressive, and Grey hadn't even been all that mad, finding it more amusing than anything. They'd learned from the experience, though, now travelling here with a proper disguise, and barely anything that could be considered valuable on their person.

Luckily, Grey had found a place to stay relatively easily - their reputation as an Idol certainly helped with that. Who wouldn't want to have one of the more famous bards from the Noteworthy Brotherhood spend the night in their tavern? After all, a little music, and especially good music, was a wonderful way to make people stay longer, and, more importantly, spend more money. It was a lucrative deal for both parties, as the tavern's owner got to rake in the cash, and Grey got a place to stay and to feed off the adoration of the people in the tavern.

Grey was playing a cheerful song that matched the tavern's happy atmosphere, an old folk song that many of the people in the area knew, so a lot of people were singing along, most of them drunk. They'd made quite a performance of it, choosing to walk between the masses as they played, dancing along, even a few floating instruments dancing around the air. The music was audible in every part of the main room, and even the grumpiest of customers seemed to be listening along with some amount of enjoyment. All in all, most were having a great time, and Grey was probably enjoying themself most of all. All eyes were on them - as it should be.
_ _

However, Grey didn't look very much like themself. They were cloaked in several layers of illusions, looking more like a brown-skinned elven lad than the succubus they truly were. The lad looked masculine, appearing to be in his early twenties. His hair was silver, long, and danced on his shoulders with every movement he made. Of course he was incredibly attractive - which self-respecting illusionist wouldn't make themself as hot as physically possible - and his golden eyes had a bright spark in them, one of a young man simply loving life.

Anyone somewhat versed in recognizing magic might be able to spot the illusions, how the floating instruments weren't there at all, how the light that seemed to shine on the young lad was nothing but magic, perhaps even that the elf wasn't an elf at all. However, it took someone with a lot more magical power than that to look through the illusions, spot the one that was located beneath. Grey really was hoping that there wasn't anyone here tonight that could see her true form - and if that person was there, that they would have the decency to keep it quiet. Who would want to ruin such a fun evening?
Cecil
The tavern itself hosted all manner of good company. From the loud and social drinkers to the moody sorts, all seemed to be enjoying themselves in their own little ways. The entertaining Elf bard seemed to catch all, though perhaps slightly less from a lone figure entrenched in inspection of a rather old map.

 Their seating remained near the corner place, a more valued table reserved by a higher pouch of coin. Upon closer inspection, the figure would appear as a woman, Elven eared and of darker complexion. Not dark by Khisfire standards, but of a shadowy gray. The tones possibly of a Succubi? A Tiefling, rarely, or more commonly a Drow. Far from home, it seemed. Her hair seemed fairly similar to the silver of the Elven bard, though perhaps brighter. Upon even closer inspection, she seemed of fair complexion. A well rounded form that practically preached an easy upbringing. Her clothing, expensive aswell as foreign to the Khisfire standards. To her mystery though, she herself was on her own little adventure. 

Hours before the rumbling laughter in this Tavern, she had arrived after a swift departure from other travelling company. Intent on visiting sights she had long been restricted from seeing save for the stray painting or so found in her house of Nobility. Her map practically preached a view of the area around, a subtle marking of Alynthi noted in the north as she pondered on. Soon, the map would be folded as she clasped a hand on her chosen drink: a local brand found only in Khisfire. The attentions of the Drow seemed to move to the entertainment around, sharp stares soon narrowed upon the dancing Bard. The movements were by and large satisfying to witness, though every flutter of movement seemed to spy some magical sensation. Unclear, yet it only seemed to spur her interest.
Michael
Now, this was the difficult part. Unbeknownst to most patrons, Grey had been scouting the room to find a table that was right in the middle, but not too full, and one that could support their weight. The joyful song was coming to its climax, and while Grey usually would have finished on stage, the one in this tavern simply just didn't feel right. It was too far away from the center of the room, and a lot of the patrons wouldn't be able to see the best part, the one that Grey had been practising for decades now to get it perfect.

Still singing and playing, the illusionist danced onto the table, careful not to knock over anything that was placed there. Some concern was expressed by a few people, but most still continued to enjoy the performance, singing along if they could. As the final chorus approached, more instruments spawned in the air, playing along cheerfully as Grey sung and danced, their moves complex yet pleasant to look at, clearly having had a lot of practise. Even the lute in Grey's hands started flying on its own, continuing to play as it did.

This allowed Grey to focus only on the dancing and singing, twirling around with a beautiful smile, one that left many of the patrons momentarily stunned. The dance was one that took many elements from Khisfire's dances, but combined them with some parts from other places, some that travellers might even recognize. Either way, it was a beautiful, joyful dance, executed perfectly, and it was over too soon, much too soon.
_ _

As the song finished, the other instruments poofed from existence while the lute descended into the lad's hands once more, and he bowed, one leg crossed over the other, his arms spread open. This was the best part of the evening. All those people clapping for him, cheering for him, *Loving* Him, Grey couldn't get enough of it. There was nothing that felt better in this world, and he spent several moments just soaking up the praise, warmth spreading throughout his body. He was panting somewhat, but the expression on his face was unmistakably one of pure happiness, euphoria even. What an incredible high.
Cecil
One of the more distant patrons for the bard, the Drow watched in the relative safety of the corner table. A sure symbol of privacy, ever so stereotyped within the cold nature of a Drow. Even that seemed to crack however as the hidden Succubi made his daring move, set upon a patrons center table as he performed his heart out for those around. Vierna could see the effect of his words and dancing, that which she eventually found herself victim to. A daring move, a gasp would ring out as her attention soon focused solely upon him. 

It was strange. For a Drow so closeted behind study and forced traditions, such a risk only heightened her excitement. The thrill of danger spurring her own eagerness at the very show that the bard delivered. A faint smile appeared from Vierna, seeming to clap along and ponder at the uttered words of the Bard's tune. The illusions of instruments flying high above was a wonderful sight only enhanced by the flurry of the bard's twirls and soothing voice. Attention grabbing, it was. Lazaroth had all kinds of entertainment similar, a land famed for its acceptance of keen partying and different delights. Better yet, an acceptance for those like Tiefling, and Succubi.. 

A thought only faintly flashed in her mind for a moment. Upon the climax of the performance, Vierna would join in the clapping and cheering though quietened by that ponder. How he reacted, how the magic shimmered from him. It all seemed familiar, yet not..? The thought would be a struggle for her, left to consider it as the cheering slowly settled down and the Drow relaxed herself once more. Still, her place looked more reserved than anything. Night Elves were a particular race with an infamy, afterall.
Michael
If he could, Grey would have stayed in this moment forever, riding that high for the rest of eternity. Yet, all things had to come to an end, and he had to come back down, so he did, breathing a satisfied sigh. His eyes opened once more and he straightened his back, looking down at the crowds below him, smiling still. He could hear their shouting for an encore, but frankly, that was a stupid idea right now. Already somewhat tired from all his traveling of the day, he had to take a moment to rest now, lest he collapse.

"Thank you, everybody!" He shouted at the crowd, in a voice that was masculine but young, sounding like someone who hadn't yet seen the ugly parts of the world. "I couldn't have asked for a better audience!" He didn't care about the people in the audience. They were complete strangers, why would he give even the slightest semblance of a shit about them? But, Grey knew that he had to pretend to like them, because what was a performer without their audience?

With that, he climbed off the table, aided by a few people reaching their hands out to him, helping him step down gracefully. He disappeared into the crowd for a little while, then, as many of the patrons were taller than he was, but managed to break free after a few minutes, his pockets stuffed with coins and a glass of locally brewed wine in a hand, his trusty lute in the other. The tavern calmed down somewhat as people found their way back to their seats, and Grey tried to spot one that was free, as most of the tables were occupied.

Ah, there, in the back, what looked to be a lone traveller, sitting alone at a table. Surely they wouldn't mind him joining them. A smile on his face, Grey walked over to where she sat, bowing slightly when he arrived at the table. A woman, it seemed, one of a species he couldn't pin down immediately. Drow, perhaps, or maybe a fellow Succubus? Only one way to find out for sure, was there? "May I sit down, darling?" Grey asked, gesturing at one of the chairs.
Cecil
As the tavern settled down so too did the Drow, a casual glance returning back to her map and drink. Vierna seemed a curious creature, an attentive glance around at the styles and design Khisfire could offer for her. In particular, a subtle array of silk rested in the travelling pouch beside her; a purchase it seemed. 

It wouldn't be long before she caught sight of the wandering Bard, the closer he got the more curious the Drow would get. At his rather direct approach, the supposedly mysteriously figure finally perked her head up to offer a look of both intrigue and disinterest. It was clear now, by the very mannerisms and tone of her face she was a Drow. A Lazaroth native, now close enough the bard could get a good look at the more intricate detail from the stranger. A light flutter of pseudo freckles appeared white and sparse along her face, a bright white which complimenting her skin offered the very image of a supposed night sky. Well formed, the look of someone daring looked back at the Bard that she ever so blatantly inspected now that he was close enough.

Vierna couldn't help but show her admiration at the look of the man, be it more the subtle inspections of a Noble than a swooning Damsel, however. For this one's adoration, it perhaps seemed a daring challenge. A soft hand faintly gestured to the seat, her words soon coming after in light tease. 

"Better than you standing on the table." - One would expect a smirk to follow those words, but only faint amusement rang out from the Drow's expression. Her voice was particularly foreign, distinctly soft yet in some ways commanding? There would be something particularly trained about the tone in the voice, reflecting her currently hidden knowledge as an Enchantress.
Michael
Grey had been examining the woman as they approached, noting that she indeed seemed to be Drow, and not a Succubus, as they'd thought. How disappointing. Still, there was something curious about her skin, the little white specks that seemed to be dotted here and there. It looked pretty, yet unusual - Grey had to say, he was a fan.

Of course, there was no way he didn't notice the admiration, subtle as it may be. Grey knew how attractive he was currently, not a single blemish on his borrowed skin. Even behind him, he still noticed a few people whispering amongst themselves, watching his every movement. Of course, every time he did move, he did so gracefully, still putting on a show even though the show was technically over. Grey was a performer at heart, and almost everything he did was a performance.

He gave a chuckle at the woman's comment, a light sound sounding almost like it was designed to make peoples' hearts flutter. There was something odd about the woman's voice, something Grey couldn't quite place. It didn't sound entirely authentic, if they had to put it simply, like it was carefully crafted to give off a certain image. Her entire image, from her clothing, to her voice, to her mannerisms, all gave off the idea that she was a noble, perhaps, maybe even a princess.

"How else would I have made sure everyone was able to enjoy the performance?" Grey questioned, the left eyebrow giving a little bounce as she smiled. Still, she sat down, carefully placing her lyre against the table so that it wouldn't fall over and get damaged. Grey crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward, golden eyes focused on the woman in front of them. "What might your name be, then?" He questioned, and took a sip from his drink, watching her every little movement. What a curious woman indeed.
Cecil
The Drow in question made a tempting look downwards to her map, perhaps in tease to challenge the adoring looks that all gave the bard. There was a theme with this one, a drive to appear different than the crowd. Still, she couldn't help but look back at times to the new entrant to her table. The subtle performance in every step seemed to intrigue her, in secret a light flutter as to why she was graced by his presence. 

Grey's cheeky question in reply would earn an amused shake of her head, seeming to be brought more and more into the influence of the Bard's mannerisms and words. A hand crept carefully against her glass, one long nail tapping in light fidget while she allowed the Bard to offer his words in her relative silence for now. 

The observant Bard may have caught a light twitch of her decorated left ear at the question, light and pale blue eyes gazing over at the Bard in even more curiousity. Lips parting then pausing a moment, she considered her reply with a curiously taunting smirk. It was quite hard to deny him a name, in truth. 

"Mmh.. Vierna. Do I need to ask yours, or will your adoring fans tell me all I need to know..?" A light glance gestured to the whispering groups in a daring fashion, seeming to encourage the conversation as she gently leaned to accommodate herself. The light dangle of her necklace would be made apparent, a Lazarothian symbol hanging at the end.
Michael
Of course, the Succubus had noticed the map laying close to the Drow, but they found it far less interesting than the woman in front of them. It was just a map, Grey had seen billions of the things in their lifetime. The only thing they did wonder about was why she was so intent on studying it instead of looking at what must be a much more interesting sight sitting in front of her.

Her jewellery gave off the same impression as the rest of her, that she was either a noble or very good at pretending to be one. Or, less likely, just someone who enjoyed dressing up all fancily. Either way, Grey had to admit, she looked quite beautiful, clearly with an eye for style. They could appreciate that in people.

"Vierna?" Grey questioned, wondering for a moment why that sounded so familiar. "My, that's quite a gorgeous name. It fits you quite well, if I may say so." Were they flirting or was this how they always acted? It was hard to tell. "My name is Grey. Not quite as fancy, I'm afraid." Perhaps, in her travels, she had heard that name before. Grey was decently famous, after all, and their name was often spoken in taverns all across Lucidien. Then again, it was a fairly generic name, so one wouldn't be blamed for not recognizing it.

She sipped her drink once more, absently moving the glass so that the liquid spun around, smile still ever-present on her face. "So, Vierna, what brings someone dressed as nicely as yourself dressed to a place like this? Came just to watch me perform?" Grey added in a joking tone of voice, even though it could very well be true. His fans got kind of strange sometimes.
Cecil
The map was her item for adventure, a tool for looking ahead at the next journey in her travels. A constant need to know what may come next, yet by the company of this Bard she grew more and more disinterested in its value. Focusing on the now, and the very entertainer that seemed to keep her interest. Noticeable by a slight adjustment of her posture, her stares now kept solely on the one infront, a passive glance to any intricate detail.

A telling smile was kept on her face as Grey remarked in that performative fashion, every compliment and remark showcasing a subtle approval of one who had faced many such compliments in her time. The familiar nature of a Noble. The words of this bard seemed more overpowering than any cruddy young Noble however, a charm that she struggled to resist. For a moment she seemed speechless, her wit tested to the furthest of reaches before mustering some kind of remark. 

Yet, the mention of their name seemed to cause her to ponder. It did sound familiar, truly, yet perhaps in gossip or that sort? She had not been in the mainland for long, but Lazaroth was known for hosting many a kind of entertainer. It would interest her even more, further straying from plans of adventure while she let Grey move the discussion forward. "Quite the name.." Was all Vierna could muster before the sip of that drink from the bard, faltering for her wit in that moment. 

She typically was more astute than that to fall to the role of the flustered Damsel, slowly gathering her senses. The hand that formerly held her glass soon lowered, flat on the table. Aside from the light splotches of white that appeared sparingly yet noticeable along her arms and down her body, would be the appearance of a tattoo marked on the back of her settled hand. A symbol to the Goddess Shara, its design toned in similar colour to her white spots. A nail casually tapped against the wooden table before mustering her words while locked in gaze. 

>

"Would it dissapoint you if that wasn't the case, heh? I'm.. Here to visit. Always wanted to see Khisfire.. Maybe not the weather." The Drow finally mustered her words, a faint ponder as she let her other hand gently feel up her more fur-filled Lazarothian garments nested to her side. It seemed due to the weather and place, her clothing was reliably more loose and compatible for the weather. Still, carrying that Lazarothian flair.
Michael
Of course, the illusionist noticed how their words were rendering Vierna somewhat speechless, which wasn't wholly unexpected. They tended to have that effect on a lot of people - frankly, this reaction was the most common one of all. Not that they minded at all, it was rather nice to be appreciated, although Grey always wondered if people would act the same to their true form. Better not try to find out.

He chuckled lightly at her remark about his name. "Yes, it's rather plain, isn't it? But, I don't mind it. It's easy to remember." Most people, after encountering the Succubus, would find it difficult to forget that name, and some might even begin to associate the color with them. That was fairly rare, though.

Despite its plainness, the name was actually kind of perfect for them. After all, many aspects of Grey tended to sit between black and white, in the grey line that separated them both. From their home, their gender, the way they expressed themself, none of it was one thing or the other, it was, like them, grey. Even their skin had that same color, although it wasn't visible currently.

That symbol on her hand, though... Where was that from? That was some god or another, wasn't it? Bah, who cared about the gods. Grey had less than no interest in them. After all, he'd never been helped out by one, so why should he worship them? Waste of his time. So, he turned his attention back to Vierna's eyes, locking her gaze with his as he rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the table.
_ _

"Hmm, the weather is quite dreadful, isn't it? This blasted heat, it makes it *Impossible* To function." Grey waved his free hand absently, a flick of the wrist that didn't mean much aside from emphasizing his words. "Allow me to take a guess... You're from..." He hummed, his gaze drifting over her outfit and the clothing that lay beside her, smile ever-present. Judging from those furs, the most likely locations were Lazaroth or Gantrick, although, the style was more Lazarotian. Plus, with her being a Drow... "It's Lazaroth, isn't it?" With that, Grey looked back up into her eyes, offering her a wink. It would be really embarrassing if they were wrong.

Her own clothes were fairly plain, not really revealing anything about where Grey came from. A white short-sleeved tunic with a low neck that left the chest somewhat exposed, a simple pair of pants and equally simple shoes, together with a belt that tied everything together nicely, Grey looked far from fancy. However, their clothes were well taken care of and clean, which was very unlike a common peasant. It was hard to pin down his country of origin, which was just the way Grey liked it.
Cecil
The Noble Drow was never usually this tongue-tied, a fluster of thought almost blocked by the engaging stares of the eager Bard. It was truly a whole different challenge for her, one usually so vocal now having to consider her every word. She knew it was noticeable, perhaps expecting it to stroke an ego that she expected a famed bard may develop. - Not like she particularly hated the situation. 

"A plain name, hm? I wouldn't say that fits you, heh." The Drow couldn't help but remark, a moment of her wit as she recalled a familiar phrase from the Bard not long ago. A casual glance followed the brief inspection of her hand markings, something she only simply ignored as a curiousity that any other may seek to look upon. 

Really, it would be the sudden sizing up of her origins that seemed to amuse her the most. While he made his inspections, Vierna offered a surprised smirk, then a gasp at the answer of the man. Oh, you could practically feel the playful sarcasm from her tone. 

"Oh, no way.. A sweet talker and a genius. Lazaroth, yes.. That whole Dark Elf Kingdom, heh.." Spoken in jest, Vierna earned some more wit back by playing at the charming tones of the Bard. A careful glance inspected the relatively simple garbs of Grey almost shamelessly and perhaps expecting to be allowed after the Bard's own inspections of herself.

The Drow couldn't help but chuckle casually while taking another sip of her glass, soon offering a playful but inquisitive point as she started to regain control from that piercing gaze. "Now now, I get to question you. Your illusions. Where did you learn..?" Vierna questioned with a more inquisitive narrow of her eyes. It was less an interrogation however, than a playful turn of questioning. One would have to expect it from a Drow with alcohol.
Michael
Another light chuckle. Ah, turning her own words back against her, now that was a technique Grey was all too familiar with - only it was usually them who was using it. Still, it did make her seem rather clever, which they could appreciate in a conversation partner. Indeed, it was obvious that this woman was far from foolish, which made her fun to talk to, but it could be quite dangerous as well. Grey would have to be careful.

"Why, thank you, darling," They purred in a low voice, one as sweet as honey that had made many people swoon. It wasn't particularly their intention to make that happen, but if it did, hey, Grey wasn't complaining. "I'll take that as a compliment." It was a compliment, simple as that. Being called plain would be an insult, being called weird or otherwise unusual was a compliment, and this seemed to tend towards the latter.

Left hand resting on her lap, Grey picked up her glass with the right and emptied it, as there hadn't been much left in it. He set it back down, and, continuing to smile, leaned back in his chair somewhat, one leg still crossed over the other.

"Hmm, I'm not that smart, I've just been around," Grey mused in response to her statement. Thank god they'd been right - although, Grey would have been able to laugh it off if they were wrong as well. "The Wolves' Den, eh? I can't say I've ever been there, unfortunately. It sounds like a lovely country, although far less lovely now that you're not there" Another wink. If Vierna was going to get her wit back, Grey had to step it up.

Her question, though, was an interesting one. Grey wasn't surprised she'd noticed the illusions - after all, what else could explain the instruments that had floated around the room earlier? However, it was a dangerous question, and he had to make sure he answered carefully, while looking like he was saying the first thing that came to mind. Luckily, Grey was an expert at those things.
_ _

"I had this teacher when I was younger. A wonderful man, really, although he died not too long ago. He taught me most of what I knew, including my illusions. Why, are you interested in learning?" None of what she said was the truth. There had been no teacher, nothing like it, but if there was anything that Grey was an expert in, it was lying. Especially when aided by the illusions that Vierna questioned just now, it was nigh impossible to figure out the lie. Of course, they had to immediately ask a question back, turn the focus of the conversation to her to discourage her from asking more questions. A simple technique, yet oftentimes a surprisingly effective one.
Cecil
This Drow certainly was no fool. A certain charisma held up her own words, alwhile lacking in much knowledge of the world at large. This charming bard would prove a challenge, as she would potentially prove to him. 

That soothing purr seemed to trigger some way of reaction. No sudden swooning however, but an almost understandable look back into that piercing gaze of his. A foolish move from her, perhaps, losing herself again in that moment as she uttered some way for response. 

"Please do. I've never liked plain." Her remark was clear, perhaps motivated further by the Bard's charming words before. Vierna would casually relax herself, the one who spoke to seeming to calm any troubled thoughts. A keen distraction. 

"Ugh, I've always hated that name. The Wolves Den, tch. How scary we are.." A quiet ponder to herself would then be distracted by the tease from Grey, the wink only adding to that attack on her thoughts. Of course, she couldn't help but smirk. It was a fatal blow, indeed. "Tst.. That.. Was a good one, I admit. Are you trying to add me to your little fanclub..?" Vierna spoke perhaps in jest, then in curiousity. Clearly, his words were having some effect. 

But the question she pondered on before would then be answered, the discussion of illusions! Truthfully she wasn't entirely suspicious of the Man, not suspecting some secret nature behind him just yet. The explanation seemed simple, yet the prodding question after seemed to muddle her reply. 

"Interesting... Well, no.."

The Drow answered simply, Grey gaining his wish as she went quiet on the Illusion questioning.
Michael
Even if the two of them were challenging to each other, Grey did have one advantage - the ability to simply disappear, turn invisible, get a new identity and vanish forever if things went south too horribly. Of course, they doubted that would be necessary, this woman didn't seem like much of a threat, but it would always be an option.

"I can see that," Grey commented with some amount of amusement, gaze once more drifting over Vierna. Indeed, the woman was quite the opposite of plain - between the two of them, her appearance was by far the fancier one - unless they were counting true forms, of course, in which case Grey wasn't quite sure who would win. Perhaps it would be a tie. "I must say, I adore your style, darling," He said, eyes finding their way back to hers. "It really does look lovely on you." An actual, genuine compliment from Grey? Were the heavens falling from the skies?

Another soft hum at her comment on the nickname of her country. "It is a rather cruel name, is it not? Although I suppose we rarely get to make up our own nicknames." Perhaps, if the two of them decided to linger on that comment, the conversation might turn much darker, but Grey had no intention of doing so. This evening was supposed to be fun and casual, not dark and depressing.

"Only if you wish to join it, darling." Grey gave a sly smile, wishing she still had a drink to take a sip from. That word, darling, it seemed to be a favorite of theirs, popping up quite often. Some found it charming, others found it annoying, plenty of people had other opinions on it, and Grey didn't care about any of them. They did and said what they wanted to, and if other people didn't like that, well, that wasn't Grey's problem, was it?
_ _

Luckily, Vierna decided not to question the illusions too much. Grey might have added another comment if they weren't intent on dropping the subject right then and there, really not wanting to discuss it more than absolutely necessary. If the people of this tavern found out about their true nature as a Succubus... Well, Grey knew that whatever happened next, it would not be pleasant. It never was.
Cecil
The Bard's remark and subsequent inspections earned some flavour of a pose or two, a mock act of modelling to show off the very outfit Grey remarked on positively. It was hard to discount her sense of fashion, that much was true. The Noble would giggle as she flaunted, a clearly different image of how a Drow usually was portrayed. Truthfully, her cold nature throughout the night seemed fairly rare on her. Perhaps it was just the presence of the handsome bard, or something else entirely. Grey's remark did seem to have an effect on her though. "Heh, thank you. Clearly, you chose the right table to sit at." A playful arrogance rested at her lips, perhaps her way of coping with the flurry of complements sent her way. 

On the remark of Lazaroth, she seemed to have alot to say. The nickname remark especially intrigued her. "Heh, I guess you're right. I mean, we do dress our guard with Wolven helmets.. And we do allow Tieflings, Succubi and the like to live there freely.." Vierna seemed to shrug at the thought, tapping at the table as she casually continued. - "Tsst. They're hardly a threat, regardless."

"I might.. Depends on what I could get from such a membership. A constant swooning isn't always that healthy." Vierna smirked in regards to the fanclub remark. Silently, she noted the darling remark but found it rather nice to the ears.

Her casual remarks regarding Lazaroth were uttered in a harmless tone, one not assuming the worst or accusing the Bard in any way. Truthfully, it seemed like she was just venting her own frustrations with the very land she chose to depart from. Perhaps in that way, Grey would see the growing trust she found in this figure that flirted and teased at the poor Drow. Victim to a hidden Incubi, one that seemed to desire no harm to her.