"Well, 'eh, money is goode..." Neit smiled, carefully grinding off the lit end of her cigar against her oversized wrist buckle. Finishing the remainder of that unidentified drink hastily, she then just threw the goblet over her shoulder before lustfully joining lips with her new host again. It tasted like warm poision; Caustic and addictive, in a goodish sort of way. "But I dun like it so much I'd get in bed with just anybody... You, stunnin' miss Valsharshess hun, you're not just anybody. Wouldna' believe if I was told it, only now that I seen ya..."
She wasn't going to tell the others, but she was basically broke. So why not make some money on the job? It could even make her seem a bit more genuine to Draeva. Drow don't do 'free' favours, after all. "Whadda'yu say hottness?"