The harpy was so appreciative, her need having accumulated for who knows how long... even were she unattractive it would have been impossible not to find her eager response exciting.  But on top of that the birdwoman was beautiful, if unusual, her skin soft in one way and her feathers soft in quite another.  The softness between her legs was different again, and Rayne concentrated on that, warming up herself as she was wrapped in the feathery cloak of the harpy's wings.  But the harpy wanted more than fingers, and soon Rayne was on her knees, head craning up between parted legs, looking up the length of the birdwoman's torso as the half-elf's lips and tongue did what they were required to do, and while one hand pressed two fingers into a well-prepared passage and her other settled high on the harpy's hip to brace them together.<br/><br/>Rayne's breathing grew louder, from effort and excitement, and it sounded louder in her own ears because other sounds of the room were muted by the surrounding feathers that held her in place as well as they could.  But she had not trouble recognizing the harpy's racing climb to her peak, and when it came the explosion of fluids burst past her fingers and covered her face, her neck - she couldn't back up and had no choice but to hold her breath as the birdwoman's spasm clenched the two prisoners together, and some fragrant, mildly-sweet juices insinuated themselves through her lips and over her tongue.<br/><br/>When her partner fell back, releasing the gasping archer, Rayne slumped back on her heels, hands behind her to keep her upright.  The harpy was pulsing erotically, and Rayne watched a while before slowly raising one hand to lift a corner of her rag-top and use it to clean her cheeks, chin, and neck.  It was barely adequate, and did nothing to diminish her own excitement that had grown rapidly, surprisingly, with each flick of her tongue.  She knew she was damp, and the approaching harpy's offer was more than tempting enough.  Rayne grinned, still a little stunned, and was just lurching forward when her own turn was cruelly denied by the returning dwarves, with Sylvia.<br/><br/>A victorious Sylvia, it was immediately obvious, and that more than compensated for the missed opportunity.  Rayne blushed as the elf recognized the situation at a glance, and mumbled something unintelligible, before taking a breath and standing up.<br/><br/>"Sylvia... congratulations!"  but there was no time for more, as their minder-dwarf laid out the new situation.  They seemed to have earned some of his respect, and Rayne found that oddly satisfying.  "Thank you" she managed, while the food was rolled in ... she didn't wonder at thanking one of their captors, it was just automatic.  She had no intention of being around for tomorrow's fight - nicer rooms were a paltry reward when she and Sylvia could be free tonight.  But the food was welcome, and she was sure this food would be good... it seemed this dwarf hoped to see them succeed.  A bit heavy and salty for her taste, but she was surprisingly hungry, and the beer washed it down perfectly.<br/><br/>She did save a sausage and pretzel, though, and once the dwarves were definitely away, she carried them over to the bars to offer them to the harpy.  She wasn't sure what the harpy would eat, but could make do with a little less for herself.<br/><br/>She used elvish with her partner.  "So, you had a good fight, Sylvia?  Did your cake contain anything useful?  And... did they leave the barrier off?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Rayne was impatient to get on with the plan, pacing in her cell, eyeing the other prisoners - she remained vaguely aroused, but the need was no longer so great that she would take the harpy up on her earlier offer.  They wanted the other prisoners to be calm before she unlocked the cages - ideally she and Sylvia would slip out before anyone noticed the cages were open, because she wasn't sure if some of the other captives might not attack for no reason.  But as it seemed they could finally start to make a move, things became much noisier.<br/><br/>"I don't know... maybe.  I suppose someone was bound to notice he was missing... but they might not recognize that he was killed, I tried to leave it looking like an accident.  Surely they wouldn't think it would be one of us, locked up here.  But..."  she listened to the tromping boots, numerous and frequent.  "...it doesn't matter what the reason, I don't see how we could possibly get away with that many dwarves on alert."  She stamped her foot in frustration, frowning.  "I really thought we were on our way.  But no... I guess we're going to have to wait for the heat to die down.  So, not tonight, darn it."<br/><br/>She looked at the scratched soil where the keys were buried.  "I'm a little worried that when we win, we'll be moved who-knows-where, and we won't have the keys, or any idea how to find our gear again.  I'd even suggest throwing the match, except... our jailor made that sound a little unpleasant.  But they'd probably return us here, right?  Not... downstairs?"  She looked with some nervousness at Sylvia.  "Surely for winning one and losing one, we'd just come back here?  But if we're going to win, I ought to bring those keys and picks with me."<br/><br/>Yes, they ought to expect to win, she thought... despite the dwarf's warning.  She didn't like the idea of throwing the match... and she wouldn't hold back with her magic, either.