<strong>Location: House Llaeloth's throne room<br/>Time: Morning<br/><br/>Janafae, Andariel, Faeremhara, Elvas'thrae</strong><br/><br/><strong>HP:</strong>155/155<br/><strong>SR:</strong>19<br/><strong>DR:</strong>10 (good)<br/><strong>AC:</strong>24 (flat 15, touch 19)<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Normal<br/><strong>Effects:</strong>Mind Blank (permanent)<br/><br/>Xhyri'Neerune stood beside the matron as she looked back to Janafae and Zekolyn. Her red eyes watched with interest as the dragon assumed it true draconic form; the strength and of the beast evident as it moved the powerful muscles shifting under sleek deep violet black scales.<br/>She would have to be wary of the dragon she doubted that she could match its physical power, but it was still just a male.<br/>Her violet lips curled into a wry smirk as she watched Janafae slid into the saddle of her draconic mount with practices ease. The demons lithe form shifting closer to the Knight and her mount.<br/>Xhyri'Neerune made a subtle gesture with her hands over her body; her skintight red leather dress shifting into a tight black leather body suit, set with numerous buckles and fittings made of black Adamantine. The outfit was clearly Drow in styling; spiders, webs and demon skulls graced the supple leather that clung to every inch of the Yochlol’s sexy form.<br/>Her new outfit also sported a stayed corset, thigh high boots and fingerless gloves. A full length Crimson hooded leather cloak draped over her shoulders.<br/><br/>She smiled up to Janafae demurely, extending her right hand to the Knight as the she assisted Xhyri in joining her up on the dragons’ saddle.<br/><br/>The Yochlol’s svelte form slid up against the Knight’s armored form her hands sliding slowly over Janafae’s hips before she pressed in against Janafae’s back, Xhyri's arms wrapping tightly around her waist as she ‘snuggled’ into place against her back.<br/><br/>Xhyri'Neerune looked back down to the Matron; her carnelian eyes bright as she spoke.<br/><br/>“Let us hunt devils ussta Matron.” She purred to Faeremhara, her blood red nails idly scratching against the steel hard ectoplasm of Janafae’s armored abdomen.<br/><br/><br/>