<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;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><strong> Talanna</strong></span></span><br/><br/><strong> Elven, pleasure slave and cutpurse.  <br/> <br/> 9 HP (Current 9),  AC 14</strong><br/><br/>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=8655)<br/><br/>The coach would pull up outside of the tavern,  the coachman pulling the reigns of the two steeds that pulled the carriage.   He slide the break into place, then would quickly hop off and land on the ground.    He would immediately open the door.   Slender fingers would grasp the sides of the frame of said door.   Emerging then a tall lithe figure in a sea of red velvet.   The dress she wore of a soft red velvet.    The coachmen offers his hand in assistance to the mysterious lady.   Her long slender fingers clasp the offer hand.   The hood cloak likewise as the dress is of a red velvet.    A quick flash of bare skin with the shifting of the cloak.   Revealing she wore a skirt and not a dress.   Her feet garbed in sandals would find purchase on the ground.   The woman would give a thankful nod to the coachman.   Letting go of his hand at the same time,  as she head directly into the tavern.   Her face and head hidden in the shadows of the cloak she wore.<br/><br/>Such a sight is not out of the ordinary.  A undistinguished carriage devoid of markings to reveal its owner.   Clandestine meetings in hidden out of the way places.  Spoke of secret dealings of not of intrigue and plots.  But of ones of amorous design.<br/><br/>The woman moves with a sensual grace,  neither hurrying nor lingering in her steps.   A confidence resounded in her steps to those that espy and view her.   One could make a mistake  of her for nobility.      She knocks on the door in the designed pattern given.   Waiting a moment until it opens.  She then steps into the inn.   Pausing for a moment to look over the room before her.    The flicker of lighting within the room would play off and reveal her violet hue of her eyes.   Her slender hands would go to the hood of her cloak,  pushing back the hood off her head.   Long dark brunette hair would spill out into view.   Framing her cream coloring of soft silken skin.   Yet it is the tell tale long pointed ears that reveal her race as elven.   The collar around her neck would reveal her status as slave.<br/><br/>Her gaze sweeps over the others within the inn.    She seems not downtrodden,  a sense of regal quality about her.  As her posture is one of a proud and self assured appearance.      Her gaze would set on the table in the middle and the lord Asleod.    She would then make her way to the table,  pausing right before.   Giving a small curtsey as she spoke.<br/><br/><em>"My lord I have come at your invitation."</em><br/><br/>Her voice further revealing her race,  soft musical almost hauntingly fetching in quality.   No name is given,  none is needed.   As she would  pull out a chair and take a seat.    Her posture immaculate as she sat,  her left hand would idly with nimble application spin a copper piece weaving in and around her fingers.   Her bright large almond shaped eyes would continue to watch the patron of the group invited to the tavern this dark rainy night in seemingly casual observation.<br/>