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The Heart of Wickedness

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    Elethynn chuckled quietly when Horas turned towards her, grumbling in annoyance about the source of all the dirt that caked him. "Hoh! It sounds like quite the trial. Were you thrown from one or did it fall?" she asked, a sly little smile written across her face. "In any case you are in dire need of a washing, and I'd be happy to provide it." The two young acolytes quickly fleeing from the scene now that she was here amused her endlessly; silly youth, trying to get out of work. At least, that was how she looked at it. "Come, follow me. Let's get you to a bath, and hopefully you I won't turn orange. Maybe I can get someone to explain to me all these foreign lotions and things..."


      "Bah.... Doesn't matter now, does it?" Horas replied with a firm scowl, though the darkening of his expression didn't last long once Elethynn confirmed her willingness to give him some assistance. His expression quickly split into another grin, and as he made to follow the elf his gaze drifted shamelessly down to Elethynn's rear. "Eheheh, well then, why don't we get right down to.... Wait.... Orange!?" His eyes drifted up again as another frown creased his brow, but Horas followed the elf only a little bit more hesitantly. "You, aaah, do know what yer doin here.... Right?"

      Moar Pics for characters and stuff


        Elethynn and Horas made their way to a private room similar to the one that the wood elf had used in her tumultuous meeting with Ifan Talro'a. An acolyte was on hand to guide the elf in determining what bottle was what. Most of them, she already knew, and those that she did not were soon sorted into their various purposes. Then the pair were left alone again, barring any requests.