<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>Nelynda Achernar (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=9468)</em></span></span><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4e/Sweet_Elf_by_goor.jpg)</div><strong>Gender</strong>: Female<br/><strong>Orientation</strong>: Formerly straight, now involuntarily but enthusiastically lesbian.<br/><strong>Age</strong>: 125<br/><br/><strong>Race</strong>: Star Elf "Spark"<br/><strong>Class and Level</strong>: Bard 6<br/><strong>Alignment</strong>: Neutral Good<br/><strong>Patron Deity</strong>: Corellon Larethian<br/><br/><strong>Height</strong>: 5'5"<br/><strong>Weight</strong>: 106 ibs<br/><strong>Figure</strong>: Slender, toned<br/><strong>Skin</strong>: Pale with a pearly, violet-golden tinge<br/><strong>Hair</strong>: Red-gold<br/><strong>Eyes</strong>: Deep violet<br/><br/><strong>Appearance</strong>: To say that Nelynda is lovely would seriously understate her incredible, other-worldly beauty.  She is tall for an elf, and she carries her willowy, graceful frame and her stunning good looks without a trace of self-consciousness.  Her hair and eyes and subtle highlights of tone are painted in reds and golds and violets so deep they mirror the night sky upon a porcelain-perfect complexion of muted iridescent pearl.<br/>Utterly comfortable with her body, she has no inhibition against nudity, and in fact has spent most of her adult life naked but for a collar and high-heeled shoes and occasional wisps of diaphanous spider silk bundled around her wonderfully flaired hips.  But as comfortable as she is in her skin, she normally wears an intricately-forged mithral suit glamoured to change appearance at her whim.  Usually, the armor appears in its natural form, snuggly hugging her ample and magnificently-proportioned curves, but often she appears dressed in elegant, embroidered tunics or functional woodland attire.<br/><br/><strong>Personality</strong>: Nelynda is not naturally submissive, nor naturally shy.  She's outgoing and friendly and her instinct is to trust without cause and forgive without malice.  Her smiles come easy and her frowns seldom last.  A born leader of strong opinion and fearless demeanor in her youth, her experience among the Drow taught her hard lessons about deference and silence.  Though free now, and again prone to laugh, she had lost much of the carefree abandon that led her so impetuously into adventure at a whim.  Violence appalls her, and while she is capable of deadly and swift action, she prefers to negotiate.<br/><br/><strong>Experience</strong>: As an ingénue growing up in the Forest Camp, Nelynda found males both funny and endearing, confusing and delightful, and generally predictable but sometimes confusing.  She was no wanton, but neither was she chaste, and many an elf or half-elf and even a few men found her delightful company indeed.  Some taught her things she carries in her lexicon of skills to this day.  But her real sexual experience began after her capture by the Drow.  Stripped, beaten, branded, and raped by her fellow slaves under the watchful eyes of their task-mistresses, she persevered and learned to please in priority to her own pleasure.  She has become very, very good indeed at keeping a mistress happy.<br/><br/><strong>Biography</strong>: Nelynda was raised in the glades and copses of the Forest Camp, frolicking with sylvan fey and her elven peers.  Life was carefree for the youngster, her concerns mostly centered around boys or whatever adventure struck her fancy.  She led expeditions in raid of honeycombs from a great hollow tree, and staged elaborate amateur performances of  ancient elven tales, and generally led a small posse of children near her own age in many a daring exploit in defiance of their elders.<br/><br/>As she grew in experience and beauty, her favorite game became teasing and flirting - delighting in the power she had to manipulate creatures so much stronger than herself.  She was a horrible tease, implying promises she never spoke nor intended to keep - pitting suitors against one another merely to see how far they would go to please her vanity.  She thought often of sex, and how she would someday use that too, to control silly males that seemed to think about it even more than she.<br/><br/>She did not lose her virginity to some loyal suitor that proved himself superior to his rivals, she didn't lose it to some slick stranger with a seductive smile and charming manner.  She lost her virginity one summer afternoon in the deepest part of the forests controlled by the Forest Camp, and she lost it to a dirty, shaggy, ill-mannered, preternaturally horny force of nature - an ancient inhabitant of the deep woods and a danger to every maiden that wandered the fey woods.  He was nameless - as were most of his kind, and he was skilled indeed in the earthy, primal act of mating.  It says much about her innate talent and her natural allure that he did not disappear into the forest after ravishing her maidenhead, but instead lingered to teach the girl bits of the powerful music his kind drew from crude pipes.<br/><br/>After this rough introduction into the carnal, Nelynda was not reluctant to reward a suitor with tastes of her sweetest nectars, and she studied music with a new keen interest, eventually apprenticing to a minstrel.<br/><br/>It was not on some daring new adventure that went horribly awry that she lost her freedom, but a quiet, ordinary night spent with friends, star-watching and drinking honeyed nectar and telling tales old when elves were young.  The Drow raid was swift and brutal, effective but not deadly.  Only one Forest Camper died, and even that death upset the leader of the raid - the dead made poor slaves.<br/><br/>Her first weeks in the Drow Caves were a horror - brutal, confusing, frightening, harsh.  She was tattooed on the shoulder, and branded high up inside her left thigh, she experienced horrid smells and rough, unskilled sex that didn't have any of the primal draw of her first experience.   But she persevered, and she learned.  While there were many among her friends in the Forest Camp that preferred their own gender for sexual congress, she had never seen the appeal.  Now, such a preference became a matter of survival.  She learned to work her charms upon females, and soon found herself the favorite of a minor priestess.<br/><br/>The Priestess lost her gambling, and her new mistress died suddenly from 'ambition fever' which seemed a prevalent and virulent disease in the Drow Caves.  As property, Nelynda reverted to the House treasury and was claimed from it by a powerful priestess that liked her pale and supple body.  The quick-witted and responsive bard-girl learned much from her lessons, grew skilled at her tasks and learned to anticipate her mistress's needs and desires and to fill them expertly.  The priestess liked her new slave, but after all, a slave was easy to replace, and when the consort of the House Matron contracted The Fever, Nelynda's mistress helped her Matron bear the loss by gifting her prized slave to the newly unattached Matron.<br/><br/>P'rztall Despana proved a harsh, demanding mistress, and while she enjoyed inflicting pain as much as the next Drow, she was at times fair and oddly considerate to her new pet.  Years went by, then decades, and the Matron did not take a new consort.  Instead, she was constantly followed by a pale, lovely shadow.  Nelynda decorated the powerful Matron's arm when appropriate, and faded back to expertly avoid notice when needed, but rarely was she far from her mistress.  She proved her loyalty many times, and her utility even more often - utility as a slave, as a pet, as a plaything, and as a companion and confidant.  While their relationship remained very much that of Mistress and Slave, it also grew deeper, richer, and stronger.  In short, after more than two decades, they were very much a couple.<br/><br/>And then one dark surface night, that all changed.  P'rztall died valiantly, taking half a dozen of her attackers with her and devastatingly wounding a dozen more, but the ambush was too effective and too much of a surprise.  She fell, and Nelynda could only watch in shock as the major part of her life died.  She wasn't supposed to be there - the meeting was scheduled between the leaders of powerful factions, and only a select few were aware.  But she wanted to see the stars, and her Mistress allowed this small boon.  Hiding just outside the ambush area, she watched.  But no Drow came to gloat over the death of a rival, or to confirm the Matron's death, and after a while the night sky grayed and then blossomed into dawn.  The first dawn Nelynda had seen in years.  Pensive, alone, feeling oddly empty, she decided against returning either to the glens of her childhood or the caves of the Drow, and she slipped away to find a new life for herself on the now alien surface world.<br/>