<div class="floatleft">(http://ist1-4.filesor.com/pimpandhost.com/5/3/2/5/53250/w/m/h/N/wmhN/slaveelvenA.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 36pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;">Talanna</span></strong></span><br/><br/><strong>Elven, pleasure slave, cutpurse<br/><br/>HP 9  (current 9) AC 14</strong><br/><br/>Character sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8655)<br/><br/>Talanna did not register what Alexander was going to do after the fact.   It startled her,  yet outwardly she remained calm.  Again it was so sudden, the theatrics of throwing a egg grenade into the hearth.   She actually sat in stun disbelieve.   As Alexander turned and look to them,  his gaze sweeps upon her.  His eyes roam downward,  made all the more pronounced with a face blacken from the soot of the hearth.   His gaze did not linger, it moved on to the others.<br/><br/>Upon his gaze sliding to another.    Talanna would rise from her seat.   With the same fluid sensual motion she cross over to the bar.   Softly she engage the bartender.   As she asks for a wet towel.<br/><br/><em>"A wet towel please."</em>The bartender would nod and provide a wet towel for the elven slave.<br/><br/>Taking the towel,  the elven pleasure slave would step over to Alexander.   Close she comes to  Alexander,  he could hear her breath,  see the subtle rise and fall of her chest.   Her large almond eyes hold peace within them.   Peace in who and what she is.    She lift the towel up towards his face.    Pausing to seek permission, to assist in wiping off the soot that now blacken his face.<br/><br/><em>"May I,  you have......"</em>She leave out the obvious as to what.   He had just thrown the egg into the hearth.  For a moment she looks to the hearth and the heated metal,  the timber splintered ad scattered within and on the floor.   Her eyes blink in wonderment,  seeing such up closer.   Then she turns her eyes and the look to Alexander as she awaits his permission to wipe his face.<br/><br/>