The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Isabela]

"Not that I'm aware of -- did she say, kitchen?"

[Zevran]

"Did you say kitchen?" Zevran calls after the peculiar gnomish woman.

[GamesMaster]

She turns, frowning as she notices he's not following. "Yes? I meant to say kitchen, if I did not." 

[Zevran]

Zevran nods, then turns back to Isabela. "She said kitchen," he confirms smartly.

[Isabela]

"I've definitely been away too long," she confirms. "Apparently we're doing things in the kitchen now. Shall we find out where this is going? We do have some time."

[Zevran]

Zevran hums softly, considering things. He slowly starts down the path, asking, "any idea who she is?"

[Isabela]

"If she lives in or near the Tree, she must be one of the druids," remarks Isabela, frowning a little. 

[Zevran]

"Miss, ma'am or Wildling?" Zevran calls after the woman, though he begins to follow after. 

[GamesMaster]

The woman turns again, blinking. "None of the above?" she offers, tilting her head just a little in confusion. "Daughter, I suppose, would be the title you can use. Or Chef, or Master, or Artisan."

"Oh," says Isabela, sounding faintly stunned. "It's an honor? Your leafiness?"

[Zevran]

"That's a thing here, right?" Zevran mutters, focusing on the 'daughter' label. "My apologies, I'm newly arrived to your town and never been to boot, so I think perhaps I am missing something most would see as obvious?"

[GamesMaster]

"Daughter of Raplin," the woman says, kindly. "Wait, what do you mean you're new in town? I thought you just got some fancy new tattoos? Did they take your memories away as well?"

[Zevran]

Zevran squints at her, then has to fight a wince. Of all the possible-- how did I manage to disguise myself as someone who lives here, aside from-- wait! "Tattoos?" he asks sharply.

[GamesMaster]

"Yes, you know, under your illusions. Very well done, if commonplace. And the skin-paint. I have been dabbling with skin-paint some, do you like mine?" She turns so he can see again, the faint bit of green to her cheeks and above her eyes. 

[Zevran]

What. How can she-- right. Daughter of Raplin. As in tulwath directly created by a god. Okay, makes sense, annoyingly. "I do," he says after a few second's delay. "Make-up, by the way, is the more common term for it." Almost despite himself, he adds, "might I suggest a hint of lip dye as well next time? A soft rose if you wish to simply enhance what the beauty you carry so gracefully or a subtle gold if you want to dazzle and draw attention."

[GamesMaster]

Her eyes light up. "Gold? It comes in gold? Perhaps a metallic palette... I have used flake gold in baking before, and I love the striking effect of-- but no matter, today is for baking! Come quickly, before they cool."