Avatar of Assallya

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9 yrs ago
Current Failed a Saving Throw
4 likes
9 yrs ago
Still on vacation
10 yrs ago
Feeling much better
1 like
10 yrs ago
On Vacation in Brazil until July 29th

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In the captain's cabin, the thick covers shifted and a pale hand slipped into the moonlight pouring through the vessel's windows. A groan followed and the pile of covers moved and were thrust aside. An elven woman, golden tresses touseled, sat up and revealed her naked torso.
She peered about with azure eyes, then splayed her fingers across the gold chains about her neck that she had borrowed from the recent haul. Her captain was gone, leaving her alone in the large bed.

Rising, she pulled on a sheer robe and padded softly out of the room, across the short common space and past the staircase leading down below decks to the door of the forecastle. She then opened that door and stepped out onto the deck-

The elven woman stood gaping, frozen in tableau, her golden tresses hanging mostly over one bare shoulder being run through by slender onyx painted fingernails. Her other hand lay open the door's latch. Her robe was partially open, one breast fully exposed beneath the golden chains she'd been caressing for she had not expected company and especially not of this ilk. Onyx stones hung from her short golden chains pinned to her lobeless pointed ears. What greeted her was a total shock. Her captain was on his knees next to the first mate. There were others standing about. Some sort of impasse. Weapons pointed in various directions. Pirate hunters?
And... Damn. Sorry to be a bother. I'm in the airport and there's no North American power outlets in this entire place. My laptop just died.

Hopefully I can power it up on either the plane or in my layover.
And... Damn. Sorry to be a bother. I'm in the airport and there's no North American power outlets in this entire place. My laptop just died.

Hopefully I can power it up on either the plane or in my layover.
On vacation for four or five days.
Lost to panic the elven sorceress continued to run. One of the lacquered stocks in her hair clattered to the concrete and her long golden tresses fell out to stream behind her.

She nearly slammed into the elwvator, somehow surmising it was some form of aperture even in her panic. Unfortunately it's function was beyond her. After mere moments she surrendered the attempt, never identifying or realizing what the call button meant.

Spinning she continued running into the depths.
Terror welled as teeth longer than her fingers wrought themselves into a friendly grin. Assallya didn't know what a clown was but her number registered a jester which was close enough and when those gnarled, half rotten arms capped in jagged claws reached out to help her up her heart nearly seized. She felt true terror wash over her.

Mind frozen, she succumbed to panic. With an inarticulate squeal she crawled awkwardly backwards, twisted and put her feet beneath her. Without a moment's pause she screamed shrilly and fled, bare feet slapping the concrete of the underground garage, anklets and bracelets clinking.
The elven woman's eyea blinked and she was calming, her breathing beginning to slow. Admittedly the people towering over her prone form, while they looked strange, didn't seem to be overtly hostile. Generally, their postures, facial features projected little more than concern.

Then the massive golem proclaimed his hunger at the same time as something rushed the small group screaming out, "friend", over and over. Turning her head, her eyes popped open again...

"By Myrkhul's shriveled black balls!" She exclaimed as the rotting clown rushed the group while calling out for friendship.

Even as the small black pudding moved to hide behind the elven sorceress the elf woman was already scrambling. Panic was rising in her, stealing her breath as she pulled on the legs of those standing over her, scrambling to get behind the rest of the group. She hated undead, she hated specters and all their ilk. Her magic didn't work on them and they twisted your soul into mockeries of their former selves.
Azure eyes snapped open. Golden brows arched. The woman spun, her arms propping up her torso.

"By the..." She burst out, "what? What?"

Her eyes slipped from person too person, thing to thing. She'd just gone to sleep in the bed of her regal estate and board she was here. Everything was grey and dirty but it wasn't any type of dungeon that she'd ever seen.

She'd been kidnapped. That had to be it. For a moment she almost cat a spell but realized that would be suicide. These kidnappers were far too close to her.

"Whatever you want," she stated, "I'll help you get. Just please don't kill me."
She lay sprawled across the concrete, unawakened, kohl dusted eyelids closed and black painted lips partially open. Breath slipped unseen across her lips betraying her condition as she slumbered. She was a beautiful woman, trailered ears hidden in golden tresses illumining her elven heritage. Slender limbs were stretched out in a long line, swathed in translucent black silks, loops of metal surrounded ankles and wrists while her fingers and bare toes were adorned with gold and silver rings.


Assallya Kressair

Age: 89
Species: Elf
Appearance:
Weaknesses: cowardly, non-combative, non-armoured, casting times, hands and lips must be free
Phobias: Undead, being disfigured, heights
Skills: Arcana, Deception, monster lore
Supernatural Abilities Tier 1: Spellcraft: Sleep Spell, Charm People
Supernatural Abilities Tier 2: Advanced Spellcraft: Illusion, Summoning
Supernatural Ability Tier 3: Master Spellcraft: Enslavement
Other:
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