"Throm-ka."<br/><br/>Possibly never had that simple orcish greeting, in the tongue of a powerful, blunt people, been spoken in such a way.  Catriana's voice was like warm velvet draped over pure sex, caressed by a clawed hand.  She minced to a stop beside the orcish warrior's table, hips akimbo, every line of her stance calculated to show her lush curves to their ultimate advantage.  Momentarily, her luminous eyes dropped to the woman's loosened breastplate, and a very deliberate smile of approval danced across her lips.<br/><br/>She bowed deeply, the gesture making a full display of her magnificent cleavage inches from the orcess's face, then straightened, offering the bottle of quite fine brandy she had brought over.<br/><br/>"My Mistress wishes to offer you a gift, with her compliments.  She deems it a shame for such an...impressive...woman as yourself to be so alone in a place such as this."  As she spoke, she stepped daintily to the side, half turning her torso, which coincidentally put her bosom in perfect profile to Duryna, almost seeming to point at the distant Vivanti with her breasts.  Seated languidly in her own chair, the warlock raised her own glass in toast, offering a lazy smile when the demon gestured to her.  "She would welcome your company...perhaps to discuss what you are seeking."<br/><br/>Catriana's smile was knowing, beckoning...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>