The woman's eyebrow quirks as if in surprise, and she cocks her mouth in silent admiration of the elven mage.  "You may call me Vash'ti."   This name stays the same in all tongues spoken by the chorus of voices.  "This place must be hidden from those not Chosen, for they would abuse it.  My chosen may visit me here, if they are pious and respect what is forbidden.  That which I join gives me knowledge... I can scarecly conceal this place from what I do not know.  Once I know how things See, I know how to make them UnSee."<br/>She opens her hands wide before her.  "I have collected petty things that you can use," she says.  "Things of magic, yes?  Things of power.  They matter not to me, but to you, they can give<i>you</i>power.  What I ask is that you open yourselves... you couple here, I taste of you.  I make you more than you are-- if your spirit is strong, you will thrive.  Whether you do as I need or not, I will remain here... on this land, feeling and living through its swamps and trees.  Lonely."<br/><br/>She laughs at Quinta's words, folding her arms over her breasts, then exhales a long, pleased sigh as if the touch is a teasing prelude.  She studies the warrior intently, as if she can sense the strong flesh under the armor, and Fiera can feel her gaze like a roaming hand, exploring her.