Akri started as the odds turned to the worse in shorter time than she could imagine. Clara's hair had whipped back, and Akri's was caught with a second of indecisiveness. A second too late, and she found herself accousted in the caster's arms. She glared upwards in fury, not concerned as her hood fell to offer distinctive features. The face of a drow, but much lighter skin than expected and perhaps cleaner than the stereotypes as well. Where it wasn't marred by a rather unpleasant expression. "Have a stick to swat you with," she growled in defensive banter, shortly before she was hauled up to land on the table with an undignified gasp.<br/><br/>The vines had disappeared. She didn't notice in the split second. Though she squirmed fiercely with light pants, her attention was drawn to a wetness at her waist. She cursed. Some potion had given out, leaking against her thigh. Likely just poor chance on her part, and nothing significant enough for danger. There were many accessories, small bottles and extras around her hips, none of which were designed for the rough treatment she was given. Worse, she heard her blade clatter in spite of the newly freed arm. She cursed again, offering a different sort of struggle. Hers was persistent and unwavering, although more predictable and ultimately doomed than Clara's more cautious approach. Mostly she only managed to make her body shift, both from left to right and her ass in likely tantalizing fashion against the member. Scant undergarments and the all-too-thin cloak were all that protected her virtue. In truth, the prospect of assault didn't truly scare her. The circumstances, the way it all came to this so quickly... that set her temper aflame and kept her protest alive in spite of knowing patience was probably her deal.<br/><br/>For a moment she entertained the thought of being the distraction, but it was clear Clara's position was only worsening by the second. Her own was less certain. Akri was determined to make her holder work for every inch, and she remained largely chaste in spite of her position. Still, there was a depressing emotion rising in her bosom as she saw her new companions bent over and handled so quickly. More disheartening was the reluctance of anyone to so much as protest for decency; the few who cared were stopped by dwarves she began to immediately feel a new loathing for. They'd pay for that... someday.<br/><br/>"Bending maidens over tables, I guess you feel so pleased with yourselves," she snarled in frustration, following with a particularly vicious buck. Perhaps it would fail given her severe disadvantage, but she would not resign easily... even if she was coming to accept her virtue would likely come out of this bruised.