<div class="floatright">(http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs44/f/2009/065/7/7/Dark_Elf_by_nJoo.jpg)</div><strong>Alonia Duskryn</strong><br/><br/>Once the acolyte leaves, Alonia does the same to another acolyte or two until she feels once more at the top of her game. She then makes her way back to Melee-Magthere, but not before find the bathing rooms within the priestess's quarters and availing herself of a mirror and water to make herself presentable and remove the remaining blood that was visible. With that done, she secretes on her person a few bars of soap and returns to her own Academy.<br/><br/>Her mind returns to what had happened back in the Matron Mistress's quarters, and a smile appears on her face as she makes the short journey back. She had won! She had defeated the discarded piece of commoner filth that had thought that she could measure up to a true noble-blooded drow. She had remained standing when the other one had fallen, and now she was the one who lay on the floor, broken and bleeding. The pain had since left, and she would show the strong front she had always meant before the entire class--and now with the new emblem in hand, it would be even easier to command respect. All she needed to do now... Yes...<br/><br/>With these thoughts in mind she reaches her own academy, returns to the Quartermaster, and presents herself, asking him where her class is, her expression haughty and the emblem tucked into one of the pockets lining the acolyte robes. She wondered if Lolth herself was looking down upon her with glee, one more drow who had proved herself the strongest between the multitude that collected daily. And she would do more! Her resolve grew, as did the smile on her face. One way or another, she would be the strongest in her class, and soon afterwards, perhaps the entire Underdark--bar the priestesses, of course. Still, so much ground to cover...