Sumara waited patiently while the tiny thief inspected the area around the castle door. She pursed her lips appreciatively at the sight of the halflings little backside wiggling in the air as she knelt to examine the flagstones. The half Drow priestess's hand fell unconsciously to the whip coiled and tied to her belt and she stroked the handgrip lovingly. Of limited use in combat the whip was mainly used in devotions to Sumara's beloved Loviatar, the goddess of pain and suffering. It would be morning before she had call to feel it's sting on her back once more, when she meditated and prayed for her daily divine magic.<br/><br/>The priestess stepped aside slightly as the half Orc, Boga struggled to prise her muscled body through the narrow gap in the doors. Sumara grinned wickedly,<em>"There certainly, would be a challenge to her skill as a priestess of the mistress of whips. To make that delightful brute sing Loviatar's sweet praise."</em><br/><br/>Sumara turned as Anilla threw a piece of stone on which continual light had been cast down the nearest of the corridors. Her amber eyes stared down the hallway to see if any sign of movement was provoked by the illumination.