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LILYBLACK (She lies on a luxurious couch on a balcony overlooking a steaming jungle. The light is failing and the leaves dissolving from sharp detail into a lush green blur. One orange flower stands out, like the star in a performance surrounded by the dances of the chorus. She is dressed in the briefest of silk nightclothes, her mind sated with the pleasure that had preceded this. The dying light catches the white jewel at her throat, sparking it into sudden fire. The scar on her face only serves to make her more exotically beautiful, though it would not be a good thing to tell her so. She becomes aware of an insistent desire to consult her magical scroll. Someone is trying to contact her! She stubbornly resists for a while, trying to recapture the moment, but, failing, sulkily rises and picks up the thing with distaste. It says, only: "Come to Tarashia at once, my Lady. Sir Bors has need of you.)
[ 07-15-2002, 09:36 AM: Message edited by: Galadria ]
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