The Buffet and the Dance

Ruchi licked her fingers violently and stuffed enormous amounts of pufferfish into her face, her eyes constantly scanning the endless obsidian tables of food. Next, the priestess attacked a hindquarter of a rothe, ignoring the silver serving tongs completely. There was no point in being chic if you were nearly starving. A cup rested next to her, except it wasn't filled with a drink; it was filled with eel sauce. The sauce was wonderful lubrication, allowing the drow girl to eat much faster.

Another round at the buffet led her to pile more items onto her plates: pickled mushrooms, roasted mushrooms, fried mushrooms, steamed mushrooms, jellied mushrooms. Even raw mushrooms.

Finally, she wiped her greasy mouth with the back of her hand, and a sense of calmness and ease settled in her belly. Ruchi felt less frantic, less desperate to shove as much food into her mouth as quickly as possible. Now, to finish the decadent, albeit chaotic feast, she needed some firewine to sharpen her senses for the dance. The ultimate showcase of ability and physique. Not a goblet, but a whole pitcher!

Sufficiently armed, Ruchi joined the group of dancing dark elves, spotting Lyr'sa among them. She let the beat of the drums absorb her, allowing her scarcely clothed body to become part of the play of hypnotic grace. Intricate movements flowed out of the drow, each dancer trying to spin social traps for the others. One movement, delicate and alluring, followed another in a web of tactical charm. It was a pure game of psychological dominance.

Then, Ruchi raised her violet eyes to meet those of the newcomer, Drok. Teasingly, she bowed and bid him to enter the dancing circle.

"Join us, little brother, and show us what you are useful for."