<strong>Virilae Queanya</strong><br/><br/>The virgin dark elf flushed in voyeuristic delight throughout the negotiations.  Working with this guild, she’d seen a good many men at play.  Some were skilled lovers, but most simply rutted like animals in a rush to spill their seed.  Though there was nothing particularly romantic about their employers enjoyment of Amatha’s beautiful body, but it affected her anyway.  On some very intimate level, there was something particularly virile and especially manly about the way he ravished the needy oracle to their mutual satisfaction without breaking their negotiations.  More—and to her embarrassment—Amatha’s ability to get them advantage over this savvy lord was a seductive enticement to the lifestyle most of her guild mates had chosen.<br/><br/>Ruby eyes blinked several times as the nobleman toasted them under the name of another guild—and an especially shady one at that.  As she froze for a moment, Virilae remembered that he letter hadn’t been addressed to anyone.<br/><br/><em>He thinks we’re…</em><br/><br/>The dark elf blinked then raised her glass and called out, “Cheers,” before vigorously downing the wine, hoping the rest of the guild would follow her lead.<br/>