<div class="floatleft">(http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maf4hx4HYr1r2cc34o1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Lady Sylvanas Windrunner "The Banshee Queen"<br/><strong>Location</strong>: In her shared cage.<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Revan, Shepard, Samus (m), Caim (m),<br/><strong>Status</strong>: Giving hints.<br/><hr/><br/>Her cage-mate seemed to be a man of little tolerance and serenity within his actions. To the brush of her foot finding it's way uncomfortably into his thigh -- he only seemed to be slightly unnerved. Sylvanas knew that if their situations would have been opposite, she would have snapped his neck right then and there. Fortunately for both, one was the more down to earth of the two. While he spoke and provided her no solution of escape, she could feel blood boiling into the fronts of her purple cheeks. They turned a dark burgundy color as her bright red eyes flashed a angry look at the masked man, and she was about to unload a rant directly at his face... until he introduced his name and lack of titles.<br/><br/>It was a small moment like this which made Sylvanas realize, once more, that she was far away from her home. Things were different here and expecting people to kneel before her and treat her like the queen she was... well, she would have been delirious. The sides of her plush darkened purple lips curved into a smirk and she crossed her arms under the swell of her heavy breasts. Tilting her head to the side and then with her echoing voice speaking, "Revan, the man without a title... You know, I've heard that the quiet mouse roars the loudest when awoken," her smile grew wider, "Even louder than the lion... or maybe lioness in this case. Your mask makes you mysterious, Revan, what else are you hiding with your lack of notoriety?"<br/><br/>She clicked her wet tongue against the roof of her mouth, and uncrossed her arms. The rattling sounds of the chained shackles hitting the ground beneath her as she bent down, breasts falling forward to the gravity, showing the dark slit between the purple plush mounds. Her clawed glove hands reaching out to touch his mask and attempt to pull it off slowly, curiosity beginning to allow the fire in her eyes to die as the small color of violet began to emerge from the flame...<br/><br/>But then there was an abrupt stop and Sylvanas felt herself falling backward. Loosing her footing and tumbling to her back until her boots flung high in the air, the cape slipping between her freckled thighs and landing on her bare stomach, and even one of her breasts threatened to escape the falling. The bright red flame of her eyes igniting once more as she fumbled with her cape. Standing up and noticing that her cage door was opening, not to mention they were on different ground. She had been so distracted conversing with Revan that she didn't even notice the different smell in the air. Or the way the ground pulsed with life beneath her.<br/><br/><em>Oh yes...</em>she thought,<em>I can work with this. If I can somehow use this magic... I may be able to escape. I just have to play their game and wait for my prime opportunity.</em>Another smirk ignited her face as she stood up. Following the Stormcloaks as they ushered her out of the cage and hopped down to the ground beneath her. A chilling running up her spine as she felt the familiar presence of magic, knowing that she needed to corporate and wait. Then also discover her surroundings, her eyes flickered from the circle of stones that was void of Stormcloaks, and then her perceptive eyes looked to their executioners ... one of them having two swords that lacked blades with technology that looked similar to worlds like Samus, Revan, and Shepard. She had been studying everyone in the party long enough within the past three days of not sleeping and eating, and she wasn't going to let a fragment of information like this slip away and not use it to her benefit.<br/><br/>At first, her eyes were looking to Shepard, someone she had shared adjacent cells with before the transportation. Even if he was one among them, she already felt as if he had the quick wit of deduction to allow them to escape. "Shepard!" she called out, remembering his name, " Do you think the technology that allowed you a set of fake arms could replace your head when they<em>burn</em>it off?" Sylvanas raised both of her hands to the hood of her cape. Flipping it off of her head and allowing the straight locks of her dark grayed and blonde hued hair flutter in the wind. Her eyes finding the markings on the ritual stones and reading the old magical language:<br/><br/><div align="center"><em>Evil may not enter this circle so long as life is sacrificed according to the old ways</em></div><br/>"Do you believe in evil?" Sylvanas' chain slipped across her body as she tucked a bit of her hair behind her long elven ears, speaking to everyone around her. Eyes glancing at watching was Caim was looking directly at her in curiosity. She flashed him a grin and continued on with her speech, looking at his confused state and feeling a familiarity of death -- even if he was beating and alive. "Evil is alive and well. Feeding off of our fear and living off of traditional ways... at least that is what Arthas had lead me to believe," she said rather out of place. Cryptically, but she was attempting to let the others be aware of what was written, without causing too much attention to herself or the stormcloaks.<br/><br/>"At least I already know what I look like when I'm dead. What do you think?" she asked the Stormcloak who was holding her in her place, as W.A.R and Ganondorf walked to their execution, "Will my dead body look just as inciting as it does on the floor now? Or would it be better if you removed my armor and shackles, so you can really get a good look before I rise again in ranks, again, in the undead world to destroy you?" Sylvanas smirked and her tongue swelled, saliva pooling into her mouth as balled a wad of spit, before she opened her lips and spat directly in the face of the guard. Grinning and laughing waiting for her punishment as a distraction. "Hurt me... I insulted your honor. I must be worth more than a sword detaching my pretty head from my body," she purred into to the Stormcloak guard's ear, feeling the ground pulse beneath her of magics ... dead bodies and the souls of her banshees threatening to awaken.