<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/nIrtVLO.png)</div><br/>While this would be Yula's first time celebrating this strange 'Harvest Festival', it hadn't been the first time she'd heard of it since she'd arrived in this region of the world.  It was with a mix of anticipation and some manner of anxiety that she left her usual apparel in her lodgings, instead gathering up something<em>else</em>.  Temporarily gone were the fine silks and cloth she normally adorned, switching it out for something simpler.  More modest green sat on her skin, with some fur lining around the edges.  Similarly-colored boots clicked against the floor as she walked, exiting her room as she heard the festivities begin.  Her tail peeked out from beneath the bottom portion of the (admittedly lacking in coverage) outfit she wore, but it allowed anyone to see the odd addition, or loss, in her back.<br/><br/>There was no denying the hint of a proud smirk on her face as she arrived in the tavern, the outfit held up by her breasts more than anything.  Passerby would easily notice the strange wooden hollow in her back, gaping and empty.  It had not been her handiwork, though she did put a finishing touch or two on things.  For this, she'd sought out a wonderfully talented illusionist just outside of town, one she'd heard whispers of along her travels.  It wasn't too far of a journey, luckily enough, and she had indeed met with Xenithas in the oasis outside of town.  So many tales floated around of this man's skill, that the mere existence of the oasis was up for debate.  Was it real?  Was it also an illusion?  Did Yula know, after she'd visited him?  Perhaps she did, perhaps she didn't, but she had convinced the man to perform some illusory magic to make it appear as though there was a wooden hollow in her back, and it only took some company, some conversation, and a smattering of gold pieces.  The rest was her own doing, gathering shadows within that illusory hollow to give it that air of mystery.  Tiny glints of light lived in the darkness, looking almost like angry fae spirits.<br/><br/><em>Clack, clack, clack.</em>She walked past the bar-goers with nary a care, finding herself in the company of the drow she'd found homes for, modest as they were.  After all, why would she dump them out to find their own lodgings when she'd been the one to take them away from it?  In the days since their arrival, she'd made sure to watch them, not out of suspicion, but out of care.  She wanted to make sure they were adjusting, and their status as underworlders would not make that easy.  Arriving on Cheszeth's side, she spoke at last.  "I see you two have gotten into the spirit fairly quickly, then?  This 'festival' is unfamiliar to me, as well, but I admit, it's interesting to disguise oneself for such an occasion.  Many of my kind could simply do such a thing at will, though I fear I am not possessed of such magic."