Once again the request came for the blonde elven dancing girl to dance upon the table.  She wasn't in the mood.  Sloughing through dungeons was not her favourite endeavour but her group demanded her presence.  She vastly preferred her adventures within city walls but had to admit dungeons definitely were better than traipsing about in forests and fields.  While she was an elf she simply abhorred all things of nature.

Sipping at her honeyed mead she sighed softly and viewed the patrons.  She, herself, was a luminous beauty.  Her pointed chin and sculpted cheekbones drew the eye as did the radiance of her tresses.  The golden hair glimmered in the firelight of the hearth.

"Wench!" Assallya called out, revelling in the demeaning rudeness, "Where are my potatoes!  How long does it take to chop up some tubers and slather them in cheese?"