<div class="floatleft">(http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg142/ElectricBadger/689692f3-16d0-4737-b1e8-8fd6cf2ee976_zpsfe857379.jpg)   </div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">Nys Vendatti</span><br/><strong>Location: Traps Class<br/>Tagging: Grumpy Dwarf, Elf #2 and Emo Girl</strong><br/><br/>Nys shrugged in response to the discussion of Melda's clothing.<strong>"You have a lovely body; don't you think so, Na'ima?  Tell her she looks beautiful."</strong>He tilted the human's head to point at Mel's bare midriff, between her nearly exposed navel and breasts.  Nys himself didn't seem particularly embarrassed.  In truth the promise of routinely seeing a lovely elf in so little was delightful.<strong>"No need to conceal yourself on our account.  The bandeau just seems a bit jury rigged.  However, you'll look ridiculous wearing a cloak indoors on a clear day: leave it behind and go as you are."</strong><br/><br/>He turned away after casually countermanding the distracted prefect's directions, considering the matter settled, and made a few quick motions with Na'ima's hair using the twin sticks to secure it into a tight knot.  The sticks were carved from slim pieces of ebony and intended for this purpose; representing the masculine and feminine, they were each an elongated, graceful figure, very artistic although anatomically correct.  Tassles and silver beads hung from the end of each one to sway with every motion of her head.<strong>"These are a favorite of mine, so don't lose them.  But if you're going to keep kneeling then I don't want you dragging your hair all over the floor.  Off you go,"</strong>he gave the bun of hair a brief, friendly kiss and sent Na'ima on her way with a nudge and a smile, again admiring her backside as she departed.<br/><br/>Despite the boy's claim weapons wouldn't be needed, Nys rose gracefully and took a moment to strap his sword to his waist.  He then picked up a satchel containing papers, spellbook and lock picks and he was ready to depart.  He may not need it all, but it seemed pointless not to go unprepared.<br/><br/>Although he listened to Arturon's comments along the way to class he didn't find the brief tour terribly interesting as he still wasn't particularly enthusiastic about his attendance, but he took care to remember the snippets of information anyhow.  Instead he focused on Melda for most of the walk, staying next to her and subtly dissuading those whose attention her form caught from approaching.  He didn't pry into anything she was uncomfortable discussing, but expressed his curiosity about where she was from and the strange sort of style she'd mentioned earlier, finally asserting that she would spar with him later to demonstrate.<br/><br/>Arriving to the classroom, he pointed Melda to a chair next to his as he took a seat.  He produced a tablet and writing implements, ready to take notes as he would from any of his tutors.  He managed to only release a small sigh as the dwarven instructor immediately proved himself as irate and ill mannered as most of his kind, and looked honestly bewildered when he was asked to make an identification.  Looking upwards he raised a brow.<strong>"I haven't a clue.  Isn't that the sort of thing we're here to learn?"  </strong>