<span class="bbc_u"><strong>Ambrosia "Amber" My'thrail</strong> (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=964372)</span><br/><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v484/FujinAkari/551fe4091ec7a0d38d67c330aca146ac_zps374ec319.jpg)</div><br/><em>Life has a funny way of working out for some people.  For Amber, the day had started out on an absolutely abyssal note.  When she awoke, she found herself inexplicably no longer inside her bedroll.  And sitting up.  And bound by her wrists and ankles to... what seemed to be a collection of roots.<br/><br/>The sorceress had, naturally, done what any sensible sorceress would do in such a situation, she tried to set fire to the place... which resulted in an additional binding being added to her her arrangement - this one through her mouth to prevent any more of her mystical powers from scaring (or searing) the populace.  However, as fate would have it, after a mere... erm... several hours (hey, its hard to keep track of time down here!) a group of apparent adventurers had bungled their way in and represented a reprieve from her current scream-accompanied existence!<br/><br/>Her eyes widened in surprise and elation, and she immediately called out for rescue, a move that would doubtlessly alert her captors of the adventurer's arrival, but the previously mentioned gag caused her intended message to be reduced to an unintelligible series of grunts, accompanied by a good bit of gyrations and squirming as the half-elf squirmed against her bonds with renewed (but ineffective) vigor, her struggles doing little but cause her sleeping-shift to ride up higher upon her thighs...</em>