So, a slaver? Like some person who actually did all the capturing and training and stuff themselves? Neit had expected such people to be uglier. Alot uglier. It was an ugly job description. Where this 'Taldi' got her good looks from was anyone's guess. Was she good looking? Were those drugs hitting Neit harder than she expected?

The psion looked back at the others, not so much feeling out of place, as trying to remember what the abyss they were actually talking about. A bucket of poison for a dragon? The fact that she didn't really need to buy anything herself? Well, the poision didn't have to be in a bucket...

Letting off a little murky plume of smoke as she held her cigar to one side, the hawkish woman gave a meek little look into the table, and considered something which brought another massive grin to her face.

"Okay." She leant forward slowly, and fixing a stray strand of Taldi's hair, then softly clasping her face. It was a complete bluff, and she pulled away at the last second, then held at a distance tantlizingly close. "So are you goode at your jobe, or juste priddy enoughe to get away with ite?... You are certainly... A darlin' wee thing..."