The white, stringy mage let out a long, raspy laugh, which made Taran jump. “Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before!” she jeered, skittering down the hallway.  This was one very long hallway. “‘Diplomat’ is an umbrella term, child. It could mean a multitude of things. For example, you could go there to discuss land and trade, or you could go there to rip their wings off, like most of the lot! Not too great are those Marsubisus. I work their leyline all day long and what do they give me? Nothing but a reason to let scoundrels into their lands. Hah! You should have told me you were there to kill their heir, I would’ve showered you in gifts for you to do so.” She turned a corner quickly.<br/><br/>Taran remained silent, unsure of what to say. It was too late to have a change of heart about their intention for traveling, so he kept his mouth shut. He normally didn’t have to bargain his way through things, and he felt very much out of his comfort zone around this capricious mage. He knew that he went about with an air of entitlement, but his patience was growing thin.<br/><br/>The mage stopped suddenly, and as did Taran. She knocked on one of the walls three times and paused, and then knocked a fourth time. Suddenly, the floor right in front of her descended into chiseled stairs with a sound of stone grinding against stone. She ducked down into the stairwell and into the room with the portal.<br/><br/>The portal wasn’t activated, but the frame was decorated ornately. It was the only thing that seemed to make sense in this trick house of a tower. It was bordered by white columns which were wreathed in thin strings of gold and silver. On the floor there was a small bowl, most likely for putting the ingredients for performing the spell.<br/><br/>She held out a pale hand in front of them. “Two hundred and fifty gold pieces, please,” she said, her fingers twitching. Taran made some sort of choking noise. It looked like it was bargaining time.