<em>However, within the beautiful changeling does not find a tavern, but a dark room, lit dimly as brighter, multicolors beams of light slash arcoss the dance floor, a bard off to the side, using magic to weave the music that permeates every inch of the club with its beat. Surrounding the dance floor on every side are couches on which the patrons recline, some cuddling, some kissing, some doing yet more a mark less than discreetly in the shadows of the place. Within, she can see aasimar, tiefling, humans, elves, genasai, half-orcs, drow, shifters, kalashtar, even a warforged or two. Indisputably this place is not meant for the exemplars, but for the mortals of Sigil.<br/><br/>Before the changeling can withdraw, a girl, young, succulent, ripe, steps up to her, red ringlets and green eyes offsetting the cream of her skin and the purest white of her corset, panties, stockings, garters, and high heels, the only clothes she wears, a serving tray tucked comfortably under her arm.<br/><br/>"What's your pleasure, Miss?"<br/><br/>In the darkness of the room, it's rather easy to miss the slight buldge in the front of Ilaneshi's tight leather breeches.</em>