Liz's has always been the Dive's manager. Dealing with numbers, schedules, clients; but always as an intermediary, letting the rest of the team, with their talents, take care of entertaining the guests.

Since she took that wrong turn in the woods tough, and nearly lost her life for it. She's come back with a gift of her own. Made her become real popular with clients. She didn't think she'd like it, at first, but now, she's quite thrilled with the situation.

It does take some time away from her accounting tough. Luckily, Regina and Velvet have been helping out with that. They're not perfect tough. The reservation for later today, booked under some generic elven name that hasnt yet showed up in their records, noone seems to know who filled that out. Reserved the whole staff too. Most unusual for a first timer.

The girls softly argue about it; Gummie keep reiterating that what does it matter, they already prepaid anyways, while Liz, annoyed, keeps saying that she just want to know what to expect.

Luckily, the suspense doesn't last too much longer. Right on the slotted time, a sparkling magenta light appears in a corner of the room; shimmering and swirling into a flat, oval shape, of an odd reflective surface that warps the space around it. The girls dart looks at each other, then back at the portal; from which steps out a finely dressed elf, pink of skin and of obvious prestance.

The swirling portal closes behind her; tough she keeps an ethereal glow to her. Despite her magnificence, she seems to carry an immense weight on her shoulders. The lounge where everyone stood is quiet as it's ever been, the moon elf scanning it of her ever swirling arcane eyes, which end their wandering upon Liz. The grand mage speaks up.

The eerie silence broken, Liz snaps out of the near trance the appearance of this distinguished demoiselle had but her under. She speaks up, as the elf loftly approached the counter

The elven beauty nods. Liz continues.

Ashryn, of her real name Abigail, interrups her, gently.

The elf raises a hand, making subtle gestures; the sigils inscribed on her fingers glow slightly, and strands of pink light outline the shape of a book and small coffer, which quickly materialize on the desk.

The elf smiles, but it rings hollow. Uncertain, Liz replies

She's interrupted once more by the elf, who grasps her hand, leaning closer.

She whispered, anguished.

Liz peers into the woman's eyes, those sad, tired eyes, eyes that's seen countless sunrises and countless deaths, eyes that haven't stopped looking, eyes that have forgotten how to see the simple beauties of life. Liz averts her gaze, sighs.

Abigail thanks her of a nearly imperceptible breath; a sigh of relief.

Liz nods to her fellow girlies, signaling them to follow; and all of them head down into the den. A few of them whisper quietly, but can tell the elf hears them; so the short walk is mostly quiet. This lady is somewhat more intimidating than their usual clients.