The elven woman grimaced as the world "bent" around her, shapes elongating and swirling with the fluidity of oil being applied to a great canvas. The small, tavern grew before her eyes, its volume expanding by leaps and bounds until it resolved into something palatial. She had never seen such a hall. True, there were great halls of smooth white marble where she had come but this place was "warmer". The oaken accents, rich carpets and great candelabras were reminiscent of the northern realms though of much finer workmanship.

Then she peered down at the gown that had been fitted with. At first she attempted to disbelieve, to dispel the illusion. Nothing, of course, happened. She was, she discovered attired in some form of strange garb. It seemed like a skirt but was much wider, as if there were something ballooning it out, making her legs invisible beneath a giant sphere of fabric. The material was strange though, oddly appealing to her, black lace slipping across her form from numerous vents and slashes in her ball gown. She also had something of a collar but it was nearly eight inches tall and ornate. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see sparkling stars against the interior of the collar. Then there was something, a golden headdress with some sort of veil, or at least she assumed it was so. It was currently up at the moment, tucked away but she could lower it to shadow her face.

Mind you, what this really did to her was frighten her immensely. A being of such power could likely wipe her from existence, possibly even consume her soul. She had heard of such creatures in the deep depths of the dreaming, veritable gods that could create at will that made even the archdukes of the nine hells cautious.

"Why would one need shoes in order to dance?" Assallya answered, completely bewildered as she looked herself over.