<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d8/Dhampir_Sorceress.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Mephis<del>Daphoinos</del><br/><strong>Race:</strong><del>Ḩ̸̉å̴̱l̷̤͒f̷̺̎-̶̨̚E̴͖̾l̶̯̓f̷͓̒</del>Dhampir<br/><strong>Age:</strong>20<br/><strong>Class:</strong>Sorcerer<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Adventurer, Divine Mark, Harlot's Mark, Slave of Lord Victor Balebrook, Traitor to Atlantica<br/><hr/>A pale, delicate-looking arm pushed the tent flaps open next, admitting in a young woman who kept most of her body wrapped up in a dark traveler's cloak with the hood drawn up onto her head. There were tantalizing glimpses of that body shown as she raised both hands next to pull the hood off of her head, glimpses of ample curves, a tight waist, considerable amounts of porcelain flesh uncovered by any cloth and the soft, pink glow of some manner of magical tattoo across her exposed midriff. From what could be seen of it, the outfit she wore looked more like a costume than a proper set of clothing, a bikini-like outfit dyed in bright colors with flowing scarves and other fabric hanging down, an outfit suitable for an exotic dancer of some sort, or perhaps a slave who had been suitably trained in the performing arts. When her hood was thrown back, the features revealed were equally striking; her shoulder length hair was a pure, almost luminous white in color, bright enough that even her pale skin seemed almost rosy in comparison, and yet by contrast, her eyes were a deep, bloody red, a crimson that added a slightly unsettling quality to her gaze. Her ears were pointed, denoting elven lineage, but her face was round enough, her ears short enough, to show that she was more of a half-elf than a full elf. The backs of her two hands were also noticeably marked, with her left hand bearing a swirling tattoo that glowed with a faint white light and her right hand scarred by an angry red brand with a straight, simple design. A Divine Brand and a mark that was only given to criminal slaves...<br/><br/>Mephis would ordinarily have been accompanied to this meeting by her master, Lord Balebrook, a young, but successful merchant whose fortunes were on the rise. However, the caravan master's invitation had only been for the adventurers traveling with his caravan, and no one else. Since she was registered as an adventurer and her master wasn't, that had been enough to convince him to allow her to attend this meeting alone. She was fairly certain that it had something to do with the cloaked woman who had come up to their camp in the middle of the night, the one who was currently being discussed in the caravan rumor mill, but even if her guess was wrong, she would be sure to adequately represent her master's interests.<br/><br/>Of course, the first thing the pale young woman noticed after entering the tent was that she hadn't been wrong in her guess. The mystery woman was indeed there, and what was more, she was entirely naked, barely preserving her modesty with her hands while putting the rest of herself on full display. Her skin wasn't dark enough to do much to hide the flush covering her cheeks, and the sight as a whole was more than enough to cause a stirring in Mephis's own loins, such that she hurried to take a seat on one of the provided pillows. Her chosen seat, however, was directly opposite the quite well-endowed minotauress, whom she recalled was named Muula, and before long she found herself flushing, her hands resting in her lap to keep her own shaft under control.<br/><br/>Mephis found herself visibly swallowing as her eyes traced over the form of the towering woman before her, but she said nothing for now. Her eyes dropped down to rest on that throbbing shaft, but that certainly didn't help. She wanted it. She wanted to taste it, to lick and suck and swallow. She wanted to feel it inside her, stretching her and pumping her full. It was an innate, instinctive desire that she had to deal with, being as heavily corrupted as she was, a darkly erotic hunger that was stronger at some times than at others.<br/><br/>Thankfully, her current master kept her quite well-sated, so she was able to resist her urges without it being too much of an ordeal. Even if she also found herself looking over Thistle, the rather lightly dressed young woman sitting at Muula's side, with a slight hunger in her gaze.