<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">With this post, I'm pleased to return control of Jess, Soma and Yuki to their proper owner as a long-lost vulapine finally returns to the forums... welcome back, Praexon!<br/><br/><br/>Geno: 65,812 + 188 (snappy comebacks to snarky wizards) = 66,000 XP <span style="font-weight: bold">(Level UP!)</span> (from a conversation  <img alt=":D" src="./images/smilies/icon_mrgreen.gif" title="Very Happy"/> )<br/>Mindy: 50,225 + 200 (incredible vore and digestion scenes) =  50,425 XP</div></div></div><br/><br/><br/>As Mindy suspected, quickies clearly weren't brewed with the palate in mind. The taste is something like an old lemon drop doused in suva: astringent, and slightly bitter, with small bursts of tartness that strike the tongue randomly and without warning. Not exactly unpleasant, but certainly not enjoyable.<br/><br/>A few seconds later, taste is likely the last thing on Mindy's mind.<br/><br/>Every nerve in the elf's abdomen prickles with awareness as the two potions coat her insides, stimulating her digestive tract to impossible levels of reactivity. Her stomach actually shrinks several inches in the first second as her muscles contract around the remains of Koren, and her hyper-sensitized flesh feels every square inch of the harpy in sharp relief.<br/><br/>That sensation doesn't last, of course. As Mindy's gastric muscles set to work, her stomach lining is already dousing Koren in magically enhanced enzymes that begin rendering the elf's prey into usable nutrients. In less than five seconds, Mindy's gigantic abdomen has already halved in size, withdrawing towards her torso in a chain of harsh, gurgling spasms. Oddly, the feeling of Koren presence within her doesn't seem to have diminished in the least- instead, the physical impression of her form is replaced by an intangible sensation, one not so much felt as simply known.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">It's so warm in here... Thank you, Mistress...</span><br/><br/>For an instant, Mindy can almost hear Koren's voice whispering to her over the sound of her groaning belly. Then, as quickly as it came, the sensation is gone- everything that was Koren dissolves into a formless slurry of nutrients that drains into Mindy's guts along with the remains of her sister. The elf's belly, now reduced to a much more manageable occupancy, begins to slow its churning...<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Mindy digests Koren- 10 hit points healed<br/><span style="font-style: italic">+1 chain shirt</span> (50% chance to survive): 1d100 = 69 (digested)<br/><br/>Mindy digests Nameless Harpy- 10 hit points healed<br/><span style="font-style: italic">+1 chain shirt</span>  (50% chance to survive): 1d100 = 94 (digested)<br/><br/>Alyssa gains 7 Dalat from radiance.<br/>Rihyan gains 7 Dalat from radiance.<br/>Soma gains 7 Dalat from radiance.<br/><br/><br/>Mindy may choose 1 of the following nutrions:<br/>- Predatory Instinct (bonus feat)<br/>- Flyby Attack (bonus feat)<br/>- Alter Self (avariel form only) 1/day, caster level equals 1/2 HD<br/>- 30 Dalat</div></div></div><br/>... but it doesn't stop.<br/><br/>While her two harpy meals are thoroughly digested, Mindy's stomach is far from empty. Her gastric muscles still feel the shifting weight of her third occupant, a certain violet-haired tiefling, and relay the information to the visceral portion of her brain. The response is immediate:<span style="font-style: italic">Food. Digest</span>Whatever the telepath may think of Soma, she's little more than unprocessed nutrients from the stomach's point of view, a problem her gastric juices are more than ready to begin tackling with the aid of that digestive potion.<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Passive digest: 1d6 (6) + 2d6 (6,1) = 13 damage (10 prevented by Soma's acid resistance)<br/><br/>Minndrillia: 52/52 (100%) [AC: 12 (+2 force armor, +1 deflection, +1 dex, -2 stuffed)] (ate Soma)<br/>Soma: 52/67 (78%) [AC: 17 (+7 force armor)] (in Mindy's stomach)</div></div></div><br/><br/><br/><br/>The registrar naga accepts Alyssa's forms, and gives the documents a cursory examination before adding her own signature and tucking the pile somewhere below the desk. Once the forms are cleared away, she pulls a thick leatherbound record book from another drawer, along with three coin-sized wooden tokens stamped with the same serpent-and-thorn pattern as the floor.<br/><br/>"These are your gladiatorial passes," she says, placing the tokens in front of Alyssa. "Please keep them on your person at all times while visiting the arena, as you may be asked to verify your identity. Thank you for your patronage, and good luck in the arena." Concluding her new customer speech, the naga turns her attention back to the record book (barring further questions). Angling the pages away from prying eyes, she picks up a quill and begins writing something:<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="text-decoration: underline">17 Kharn: New account opened for Alyssa Jaroneva, 500 gold marks principal. Interest rate: 5% per diem. Collateral: self. Status: unpaid.<br/>- Angua Sogluyem, 17KH</span></span></div></div></div><br/><br/><br/><br/>The white-skinned girl is gone by the time Jess reaches downstairs. Several women in similar outfits stand huddled in the far corner of the room, looking nervous, but Sashi's scent (or what's left of it) doesn't seem to lead to them. Of course, tracking anything by nose in here is difficult; despite the cleaners' best efforts, the underlying smell of sweat, polish, and old blood pervades the room, even on those rare occasions when it's relatively empty.<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Jess may attempt a DC 20 Survival check to continue following the scent.</div></div></div><br/>In fact, the staging area seems suspiciously uncrowded as Jess makes her entrance, though no less noisy for it. If anything, the room seems louder and wilder than ever, and it's all coming from her left. It doesn't take long to see why: most of the gladiators present for morning matches have forced themselves into a tight press around where the corridor exit<span style="font-style: italic">should</span>be, currently blocked by a massive iron slab and two very tense-looking guards.<br/><br/>A handful of the more level-headed patrons have settled themselves near the far wall to wait out the quarrel, watching the mob with amusement or cheering on the current match (a caramel-skinned redhead versus a scythe-wielding dwarf) through the portcullis. One of the spectators, the sap-green orc who waved to her earlier, notices Jess's arrival and motions her over.