Indeed, Atelia left most of her fiends back at the small house she was staying in. Specifically, the enormous Retriever demon, its metallic chitinous armour gleaming in the half-light, stood over the street, providing a sort of tunnel. It had been strictly ordered, by its true name no less, not to hurt anything that didn't attack it first. Likewise her enormous, black-pelted horse, its mane and hooves wreathed in hellish flames, and snorting clouds of putrid smoke from both nostrils, waited in the small garden out the back, tearing the razorvine to pieces and glaring at anything that was able to look back.<br/><br/>Inside the cheap house, two of the succubi (Lemonscent and Maplepink) are still in bed. As Outsiders, they don't actually have to sleep, but sleeping isn't what they're actually doing. One could think of it as practice for what they were created for, or one could think of it as satiating their supernatural lust on each other. Or possibly just making the sheets messy to make Atelia horny as she sleeps. The Vrock was perched on a table, digging its talons into the varnished wood and looking own on everything. It occasionally muttered an obscenity, presumably being as Chaotic and Evil as allowed.<br/><br/>This left her traveling with Bonesaw the Babau, Nightshade the succubus and Reaver the Hamatula. She walked the streets in her barely-opaque silk shirt and her short silk skirt, both white in colour, and swayed her hips. The skirt swished about, occasionally fluttering up just enough to reveal that today was a no-panties day for her. Nightshade and Reaver, both completely naked (as one might expect of Outsiders), flanked her, each holding onto one of her hands, and looking about menacingly, wishing they had permission to attack, but knowing that even if Atelia allowed it, the ruler of the city would not, and there are some people you<em>never</em>mess with.<br/><br/>Bonsesaw walked behind, towering above the others and grinning, all fangs showing, as they headed towards the tavern...