<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/suwLIVD.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Nephele</span>(https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1375437)<hr/>Those canted eyes, naturally laden with heavy lid that seemed to give her that much of a smokier stare, the thick canopy of eyelash only seeming to draw out the unnatural color of those molten pools she had for eyes; they studied him with equal scrutiny, searchingly. She didn't move a single inch as his eyes roamed over her attire. It fit her well, tailored and not nearly as dusty as it ought to have been - she'd changed before entering the city proper; changed before entering civilization, really. A simple shift was wrapped about her shoulders, a deep maroon color, bordering more on velvet. It covered her shoulders neatly, the dress itself normally settled along her shoulders with a dark fur lining that plunged down to the slopes of her chest. The dress proper was a burgandy shade, one piece that was just bulky enough to not cling entirely to her hips and legs, intricate patterns and geometric shapes stitched into it with charcoal thread to make it more eye-catching. Simple, yet certainly not entirely out of place during a feast-day. The dress did stop at her knees, exposing the black and sheer fabric of stockings that lined her legs. The shoes she wore were a sturdy pair of slippers, equally shaded.<br/><br/>Most of her travels, however, were in her second shift of clothes. A tailored coat with a simple pair of snug breeches. Yet, for some reason,<em>that</em>had ended up drawing far more attention than anything else.<em>I thought it was the breasts men were into...</em>she mused to herself as the door opened and he barked at her. Her stoic expression revealing little of the nervousness she'd experienced, uncertain if that had been enough. Naturally, she'd decided to forgo the traveling attire for the meeting.<br/><br/>Smoothly, as if entering a palace, she glid along the floor. She almost broke her fool ankle doing that, yet besides the slight tremor, it seemed natural. Her chin lifted as if to defy the past presumption of what she'd been. Yet in seconds she was gifted with a sudden strike against her backside that drew a less than elegant squak from her lips; it was not uncommon for dresses to have extra 'floof' in the back, there, yet what his hand struck wasn't thick layers of dress, but something equally as 'floofy'. And plump. And quite pronounced. What she lacked in her chest...<br/><br/><em>Porcelain skin, the arch of her neck. Surprisingly cool flesh. The slight quiver as my hands ran down. Mois-</em>Nephele cuts off that train of thought like a razor's edge, the woman's face turning a deep shade of red as the image of a certain woman she'd... An unsteady breath is taken as she shakes her head, worry creasing her brow for a second as she marveled at how easily she was plunged into a state of far than proper thinking.<strong>"What's happening to me?"</strong>she whispered likely too low to hear. Her gaze, however, is drawn almost hypnotically towards the pair of men standing in the ring. It was difficult to see thanks to the masses of bodies no doubt obscuring some of the vision, yet the two rivals were like from a story; a dwarf facing an elf. Her mind churned at the thought. Almost mesmerized, she stared. Lost in thought, rooted to the spot. The exchange of brutality drawing a vivid shudder, stilling her breath; until one man remained. The spell seemed to break then as she turned her eyes away with a wince - and barely had a moment to prepare herself as someone bumped into her, shoving her a fraction away.<br/><br/>Irritation was sparked, yet again her voice failed her as what was implied earlier was, this time, said. Uttered for all to hear. Her pale cheeks flooded with indignant warmth as she watches the pair, lips pursed into a tight and thin line as the two exchanged words; and coin. A blink followed the hasty spilling of silver and copper that fell at their feet, the man that insisted upon 'Crow' drawing her intense study. In seconds, however, those lips curled into that mischievous smile; that tempting smirk. Affection for the bare-chested and veteran half-orc almost overwhelming, whatever his intention truly was. Almost immediately a gentle hum begins, half-whispered words rising from a smoky soprano.<strong>"...but one soul lies, ahn...xious wide awaake... Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths."</strong>Almost like a growing hum in her head she steps forth, a hand reaching. Settling. Pressing against "Crow"'s shoulder. A push to turn him, a step to draw him. Eyes to keep him. And her voice... to lull him.<br/><br/><strong>"...Master Crow, a moment please. There is no hurry, nothing to fear here. Calm yourself,"</strong>she urges, softly, her voice low. Barely above a whisper, as if to make it a necessity to listen that much further. The aroma of something sweet. Something tart. Of blood oranges wafts from her skin so close, so neatly pressed against him. Her spine curved, hips cocked. That shapely curve pushed back as if in offering towards a certain orc - or as thanks; whatever his intention, he'd defended her honor.<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Casting Fey Charm (Charm Hex). It provides no attack of opportunity, and doesn't have a S/M component. And vocalized through soothing words. DC of 15, or 16 if he can be attracted to her.</div></div><br/>There was... something to her words. Something dizzying. Enthralling. Captivating. Pulling at him as she murmured a few more words, soothing the man's sensibilities. Weaving her very voice into a spell she hardly could pin down how.<strong>"Something troubles you, but you are among those you can trust. Please, collect your coin and properly hand it to the good guard. And tell me what worries you so."</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2017-11-10 02:31:29, Nephele (uid: 8861) rolls: 1d20a+9 Result: 18 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=109766) Forgot to add the familiar bonus, which is +3 to Diplo. That's 21.</div></div><br/><em>For the moment, the raven-haired woman seemed entirely unaware of the man and boy in chains; while normally something that would easily draw the eye, the fight between two races that were prominent in many a story, facing off in a seeming mythical grudge with such brutality... had caught her attention prior.</em>