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An arms dealer and a cultist walk into a bar, hoping to set up a deal rather than a mediocre joke. The cultist took a seat by the bar while the arms dealer sat in a booth with his friend, a Bhaalspawn. Sitting down, Gortash breaks the ice, “Lovely seeing you again, how are you?”
Riley drank from her bottle, “I’ve been better. A few smugglers wound up in my part of the Undercity, and while they made great sacrifices I will admit they fought well. How about you?”
Gortash made himself comfortable in his seat, “Things are well, but there is a small issue I need assistance with.”
Riley nods, “You wouldn’t have called a meeting here if there wasn’t an issue, so what do you want?”
Gortash pulled out a folded paper, “There is a gala tonight that is being hosted by someone I wish to be close to. Trouble is, he has…particular tastes.”
Riley’s ears perked up, “Like dietary tastes or like cultural tastes? Because if you need me to cook dwarf, then you could have just asked me to drop it off before the gala.”
“Unfortunetally, I meant the latter.” He looks Riley dead in the eyes, “I have learned he has a particular fondness for Tiefling women.” His eyes drift to Riley’s horns before returning to her infernal green eyes, “I believe you fit that criteria.”
Riley tapped on her horns, “I believe I do, but what’s your plan?”
Gortash continued, “It’s a simple plan in truth. We are to arrive at the gala and I would make his acquaintance. I introduce you as an associate of mine and, likely in the hopes of seeing you more, he will invite me to more events. From there I shall make more friends in the upper city and our friend, Lord Staka, can be disposed of.”
“So…not that I am opposed to this, but how will this work exactly?” Riley asks, “Am I to spend my whole night just talking to one guy?”
Gortash shook his head, “Oh by Bane no. We want him to yearn for you, to hunger for you. You have to be somewhat illusive, yet never hiding away. Always just out of reach yet never far from his grasp.”
Riley got the idea on the first metaphor and nodded along, “Alright, but why should I care? Sure I won’t abandon our partnership but this seems to me like a very lopsided arrangement.”
Gortash groaned a little, “Fine, what are your demands? I’m certain I can find some way to evening the scales.”
Riley thought for a moment, “Alright so first I want a dress, something flashy and attention getting. Secondly, I’m going to pick one of the other guests out as a sacrifice.”
Gortash’s mood lightened, “Oh, those are your demands? I had half expected you to ask for gold. Well with that sorted, any questions pertaining to our mission?”
“One last question, isn’t your bodyguard also a Tiefling woman? Like I have only seen her once or twice and I know damn well she has a pretty face, she feels like a perfect person for this operation. Is she sick or something?”
“Sadly I cannot bring in young Karlach, I have plans for her in the coming weeks that will take her away from the city. And if we do not get our opening soon, I would have to cancel those plans with her. Hence why you are here.”
Riley nods in understanding, “Gotcha, and I guess I’m good to go. Do you have a tailor for me or how will this work?”
Gortash turns to the bar and points to his second in command, “Cassandra will handle your acquisition of the dress.” As Gortash looks to his second in command he looks at the anger that has built up on her face, the ever growing agitation as she just stares daggers at…at the woman sitting next to her who seems to have the exact same face.
Before Gortash has time to question that, Riley pipes up, “Sorry about my sister, she seems to be fucking with your second.”As she says that the duplicate sticks it's tongue out at Cassandra as the real Cassandra grows more and more annoyed.
Gortash looks back to Riley, “Can you explain why your sister is so antagonistic to Cassandra?”
Riley shrugs, “No clue, but to be honest I’m pretty sure she’s just doing it for the love of the game. She loves fucking with me and, since I’m clearly busy, it looks like she’s found a new target.”
Gortash looks back to the two identical women, “It would be best if we got going, at the current rate Cassandra is either going to either kill your sister or herself and frankly I would not like to tempt fate.”
Riley places a gold coin on the table, “Agreed.”
–
The ride to the gala was a new experience for Riley. Wearing intricate clothes, riding in an ornate carriage, and eating expensive foods. This level of luxury and prestige may not be what Riley is used to, but it certainly something her divine blood deserves!
As Gortash adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes he began to speak, “So, my friend, are you certain you are ready?”
Riley dismissed him, “It’s just talking to somewhat rich people, that’s not a challenge. At worst I treat the target like he’s a genius while I hide how much he disgusts me.”
Gortash looked at himself through a handmirror again as the carriage continued to trot, “I will take that as an elaborate way of saying ‘yes.’ Also, forgive my sloppiness, but I do not believe I have identified the target just yet.”
Riley thought on it and, to her surprise, realized that Gortash had forgotten that, “Is everything alright?” she said, pretending to be concerned, “have you come down with a mystery illness?” Riley raises her hand to his face, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
A playful smirk appeared on Gortash’s face, “Three.”
Riley let out a faux sigh of relief, “Oh thank Bhaal you’re alright, the night would have been so much more boring if you died. Though if you died dramatically on stage…” Riley trailed off.
Gortash continued, “You’ll be looking to impress Mr Thomas Zhaltan. He’s a half elf whose family earned their fortune during the time of troubles. There’s little else to truly say about the man. His wealth and name are the only things of note about him, his personality is at the best of times dull.”
Riley groaned a little, “Uuurgh. I know the type, hell I almost sacrificed a guy like this the other day. I thought it’d be poetic to stab him with a gold knife, that bastard had a gold steak knife and fork in his breast pocket so don’t ask, and I swear to my Father that fucker only likes to talk about fucking finance!” Riley threw her hands up, “Do you know what a fucking synthetic share is on the Waterdovian stock exchange? Because I now fucking do and I also now know that the fucker in question does NOT know what it is!”
Gortash didn’t push it, “Believe me, I understand how dreadful it can be to mingle with these buffoons. Though fortunately, you only need to do a brief introduction with him. All we need is for him to know you and desire you.”
Riley continued, “And he’ll want me more if I play hard to get, I get it. Still, that doesn’t mean it’ll be fun.”
Gortash laid his hand on Riley’s, “If it would bring you any peace, I could steal you away for the evening. Aside from the obvious benefit…”
“The fact I don’t have to interact with this nepotistic shit head?”
Gortash nods, “As you say, but it also creates the narrative that he may steal you from me.”
Riley chuckled at the thought, “I can see that game being fun, sure.”
—
Exiting the carriage and walking into the ballroom, Riley was greeted by the sights and sounds of high…well maybe higher society is the proper term. The exterior was ornate but not extensive, the estate was large but not obnoxiously so. Riley recognized it as a display of wealth but not wealth that dated back to Balduran. And while it did validate Gortash’s need to have a reason to connect with Mr Zhaltan, it also validated Riley’s worries that this man may be a bore or worse.
To her side stands Gortash, walking with her arm in arm. The interior of the ball room was on par with her expectations. Various people in fine clothes stood in circles, carrying hor dourves in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. The sounds of idle chatter muffles the music.
The conversations seemed light and friendly, yet the words didn’t always seem to match the tone. The pair walked around, subtly trying to find their mark, and Riley couldn’t help but overhear the conversations being held. One group discussed literature, another chatted about business, a third discussed how many pickles can be shoved up someone’s ass. Sadly Riley only got to overhear how the onion harvest went this year instead of getting an exact number of pickles.
The pair wander around the hall before Enver stops her. She turns to him and they lock eyes, “Don’t look now, but I believe your mark is behind us.” Riley turns her head a little before catching herself and turning back, “I believe this would be the time for us to temporarily part ways.” He looks around, “Mingle in a group around here and wait for him to arrive. If he doesn’t in, say, five minutes, approach his group and introduce yourself.”
Riley nodded and the pair parted ways. Riley approached a group who seemed to be enthusiastically having a discussion. A man, who either had a horrible baby face or was still very young, was speaking, “So I tell him ‘what are you going to do, stab me? And that fucker stabs me!” As others let out a small chuckle at that the man seems to only find some joy in that.
Riley jumps into the conversation, “Well to be fair, you did poke the proverbial bear.”
The man nearly shouted, “All I did was eat one too many pastries! Does eating one sweet really justify stabbing your own brother?!”
“I mean…” Riley adds, “if I had treats for myself and my sister ate a few of them I’d be tempted to stab her.” As Riley says that the others give various people saying things like “Same” or “Real.”
The man seems a bit annoyed, “Really? All of you?” As more voices agree with Riley’s earlier sentiment, the man takes a sip of his drink, “Fine, I guess.” The man drinks until his glass runs empty, “Excuse me, I’ll be getting a new glass.”
As the man walks away a human woman looks to Riley, “I’ll wager that he won’t be coming back, Jacob isn’t a man who's eager to be embarrassed.”
Riley takes a sip from her own glass, “As opposed to the oh so many men who love to be embarrassed?”
The woman’s face grows more playful, “Oh please, men hate to be embarrassed but love to act embarrassingly. They’ll proudly boast about their actions thinking they’re impressive when, at the end of the day, only other men will care about. They think being loud, abrasive, obnoxious, and disgusting makes them attractive. And when you tell them off, they scream like a toddler being told they cannot have cookies for dinner.”
Riley nodded, “Good point, I’ll retract my earlier statement.” In an effort to keep the conversation going, Riley begins to mingle, “I realize I haven’t introduced myself.” Riley quickly comes up with a fake surname, “ I’m Riley Muhta, and you are?”
The woman smiles, “Octavia Wrathbone, lovely to meet you. I would shake your hand but I’m a little busy with the food.” Riley looks down at the woman's hands and sees hor dourves in one hand with a glass of champagne in the other.
“Oh it’s quite alright.” Riley quickly tries to come up with small talk, “So, what do you do?”
Octavia smiled politely, yet there was an undeniable falseness on her face, “I’m a freelance recruiter, I help connect talent and labor to employers. You?”
Riley plays along, “I’m an investment portfolio manager,” she lied, “I oversee clients investments and reallocate funds to maximize their return on investment while providing synergy with long term financial goals.”
Octavia smiled politely and nodded for a moment and, for a brief second, the pair saw through each other's deception, “So you’re lying.”
Riley’s smile went from somewhat fake to genuine as she let the act end, “Oh we’re both full of shit aren’t we?”
Octavia’s fake smile also faded as a more honest look grew on her face, “That we are, that we are. So, what do you really do?”
Riley shrugs, “Humanoid resources, I make sure people are where they are needed to be. Whether that’s in events like this, “ Riley gestures out to the broader gala, “or if it’s an early grave. You?”
Octavia drank a little champagne, “I work for a devil so the actual ‘thing’ I do shifts. Right now I’m just here to scout clients. Do you have any need for our services?”
Riley shakes her head, “Nah, not at the moment. In the future I might reach out but right now I’m good.”
Octavia seems a little disappointed, “Thanks for hearing me out.” As she says that her eyes dart behind Riley, “It seems our discussion here may be nearing its end, if you need my services go to the Devil’s Fee and ask for Octavia.”
As Octava says that a new voice rose from behind Riley, “I take it you two lovely ladies are having a great evening so far?”
Riley looks the man up and down. The Half-elf man had an air of confidence that only comes from the greats or the arrogant, his suit was ornate yet he didn’t button it up, and his hair seemed to be immaculately cared for while seemingly being styled by a hurricane. He had a smile that glistened and eyes that showed only desire.
Riley was confident this was her target, but she had to be sure, “Oh hi! I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Riley Muhta!” Her voice sounded playful and happy, “And who might you be?”
The man’s grin only got more cocky, “Oh m’lady,” Ah fuck, he’s one of those guys, “my name is Thomas Zhaltan, but you may call me handsome.”
Riley puts on a pretty face, which admittedly isn’t difficult for her, but internally she cringes like absolute fuck. “You got that right, handsome.” Riley pretended to find the man attractive, “So what can I do for you?”
Zhaltan got a step closer, “Well I just wanted to introduce myself, someone as,” he looks her up and down, admiring far more than her dress, "delectable as you should be shown the proper respect.”
Riley hid her annoyance as best she could, though this endeavor was likely aided by the man’s abysmal self awareness, “You’re not looking bad yourself. So, Mr Zhaltan.”
“Please, m’lady, you can call me Thomas or Handsome if you want. It’s really ok.” It really wasn’t but Riley couldn’t tell him that.
“My apologies, handsome. So, tell me about yourself a little. What do you do? What are your interests, stuff like that.” Riley throws out.
The stretches a little, clearly trying to flex his slightly above average physique, “Well, not to brag,” he bragged, “but I made over twenty thousand gold in the last quarter.”
Riley continued, “Trading what? Oh! I’ve heard people are making loads of coins in the stock trade. Are you dealing with livestock?” Riley notes, intentionally misunderstanding how the Waterdovian Stock exchange works.
The man shook his head, “Nah babe, I’m an entrepreneur.” He said as if that clarified anything, “My enterprise helps storefronts optimize their profits by improving synergy with their supply chains and focusing on sustainable yields through our focus on core competencies and through negotiating better transactional agreements. Thanks to our deep-dive research and our onboard specialists we are able to pivot human capital into more optimal locations while being certain to pivot our operations to more strategic angles.”
Riley showed fake interest while having no idea what that man just said, “Oooh!” Her voice sounded fascinated, “So what else do you do?”
The man gave another half baked smoulder, “Well, I do a lot of bets on horse racing and I am an avid fan of Baldurian Psycho.”
Riley has to ask on Orin’s behalf, “The novel or the theatrical adaptation?”
The man chuckled, “Really m’lady, who even has time to read anything other than the news these days? Besides Pulkat Batam is such a sigmar male.”
Riley has no clue what those words mean in that order and, quite frankly, she’s opposed to learning, “Oh my,” she ran her hand down his arm, “and what’s your favorite thing about Pulkat?”
Zhaltan continued, “He’s just so cool! He’s a successful Waterdovian trader and he’s so cool, stoic, badass, and just a fucking icon I want to live up to.”
Riley remembers Orin one laughing at how much of a fucking loser Pulkat Batam was in the novel and just assumed Zhaltan didn’t understand the book. “Fascinating.”
Zhaltan continued, “So babe, I don’t know if you noticed, but there are a lot of beta men here tonight.” He gestures for Riley to look out at the other guests, “Look at those submissive, weak willed, betas.”
Riley looked out and just saw…men. Some are scrawnier than others, sure, but nothing really exceptional. If she weren’t trying to seduce this guy she probably would call him an idiot, “Gods, I hadn’t been paying attention.”
He flexes again, still proud of his modest gains, “Yeah, couldn’t be me.”
“Pardon me,” Gortash says, appearing behind Riley and absolutely not shocking her, totally, “but I may need to steal my friend here away from you.”
Riley looks to Gortash like he were a divine savior, “Oh Enver! I should introduce you two. Mr Zhaltan, this is Enver Gortash, he’s my coworker. And Gortash, this is Mr Handsome, or Thomas Zhaltan. I think you two could be great friends!” She said with faux happiness.
Zhaltan smiled a clearly aggressive smile, his disdain for Gortash being as subtle as a red X on a map, “Oh really?”
Gortash nodded, his fake smile being far better than Zhaltan’s, “Well I would be delighted to make his acquaintance. A friend of Riley is a friend of mine. But alas I believe I promised her a dance and the bards have just begun singing.”
As Riley takes Gortashs’ hand she watches as the Drow bard changes from lute to violin as more and more couples flock to the newly occupied dance floor.
Once the two begin to slowly dance, and once they are out of earshot of Zhaltan, Riley speaks, “Thank fuck you took me away from that guy. He’s just…weird.”
Gortash let out a soft laugh, “Really? You of all people called him weird?”
“He told me what he did for work and I swear to you I understood none of what he said. To me it just sounded like finance word salad.”
“Well, until we acquire riches of our own we shall be hearing far more of that.” Gortash counted.
Riley groaned, “Just because I will listen to more of it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I just find finance, and the guys who find themselves working in it, so fucking boring. They spend their days moving money around while making nothing.” Gortash briefly steps on her toes but Riley pushes past that, “An artist has their works, a smith has their tools, a soldier has their scars. All of those lines of work actually make something, but finance? Fuck those guys.” There is a pause, “And he thinks finance is attractive? Fuck, if anything you’re my type far more than he is.”
Gortash raises an eyebrow, "Interesting choice of words, I also find that you are my type of woman. You’re strong willed, physically fit, sharp, and willing to get your hands dirty.”
Riley smiled, “Well then, it seems we’re on the same page. Would you like to seal the deal some time?”
Gortash had a slight blush, “Really? That’s the best you have? No romantic lines or sweeping off my feet, just ‘shall we?’”
“If you were a grand romantic you wouldn’t be asking me to honey pot this guy.” Riley points out, “and besides, this is just the trial period. If the relationship goes further, it goes further. If it stays physical then it stays physical. If it doesn’t work, well either we continue the partnership like before or we bury you with a broken pelvis.”
Gortash’s face now seemed longing, “Could I tempt you into testing that theory tonight?”
Riley considered it, “You could, but first I want to get out of this dress properly. This is the first dress I’ve had since I was a child and I will be damned if I ruin it.”
With that Enver nodded and ushered Riley to the door. The pair exited the party early, hopped in their carriage, and rode away. The last thing they heard coming from the Gala was the answer to a question Riley has had since the start of the Gala.
“FOUR PICKLES!”