<div class="floatright">Sumara Farrowynn (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1426152)<br/>(https://i.imgur.com/gcMtYDz.jpg)<br/><strong>HD:</strong> 2d10 | <strong>HP:</strong> 20/20 | <strong>AC:</strong> 19 | <br/><strong>Proficiency(+2):</strong> Athletics, History, Insight, Perception, Persuasion | <br/><strong>Saving Throws:</strong> Wisdom, Charisma | <br/><strong>Dmg:</strong> Morningstar 1d8+2, Javelin 1d6+2</div><br/>The feeling of those lovely gnomish mounds of flesh, even through her gloves, was ever so lovely.  Each was unique and just perfect... one a mighty size that was just so squishy and tender while the other a more compact shape and more taut, yet she could feel the pink haired cleric's hardening nipple against her palm.  "Ah... just uh... a little longer..." she lied, red faced.  Both gnomes could feel the healing magic had already dissipated, by this point she was just groping for pleasure.  In fact, the dark elf's face looked almost stupefied as she aroused both of them and herself.<br/><br/>It wasn't until they started communicating and her ears picked up vaguely on the voice of the others that she almost snapped back to reality, getting one more good look and squeeze at them before prying her hands away rapidly.  "Uh... done..." she uttered, her face even redder than before.  It seemed that her time at the temple had served to dull her dark elven attitudes... but on the contrary, groping these beauties had felt so good...