[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sophia pulls a long dress out of her closet and studies it. It is red, bright red, a dress designed for drawing attention. Sophia rubs her hands together with delight, before pulling the dress on over her head and twirling experimentally around the room.

Hm, she thinks, too long. I'm going to trip on this sucker. And I need a little more leg room. She claps her hands once and a small elf maiden enters the room silently. Sophia looks herself up and down in the floor length mirror critically, before addressing her seamstress.

"What do you think, Mirilin?" The little elf cocks her head to one side and rubs her nose reflectively. "Its too long, milady. You're going to trip on that sucker. And you'll need a little more leg room." she finally pronounces solemnly.

"Just what I thought myself!" Sophia cries, delighted. "Fix it Mirilin, I want to be stunning!" the little elf whisks out a pair of giant shears and soon Sophia's dress is hanging in tatters just above her ankles. A slit has been cut in front to the waist exposing the deep crimson underskirt, and the nimble fingers of Mirilin are flying across the hemlines, magically repairing the damage.

Sophia stands in the middle of the floor, eyes glassed over, while the little elf bustles around her skirt. She needs this dress to be perfect. As one of the many fair maidens of Lord Fin, she's going to have lots of free time for dancing. She smiles. If she can manage it, Sophia is going to dance with a mod.

Head filled with pleasant thoughts, and a catlike grin plastered to her face, Sophia barely notices when her little seamstress straightens up. "Milady... you're finished." she pronounces with awe. Sophia, startled out of her reverie looks down at herself. It's perfect, she moves and it twirls around her. She grins, now if only she could magically lose ten pounds...