<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Nefasi<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Zidir's establishment<br/><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Ittrou (Day of the River), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Zidir, Open<br/><hr/><br/><i>"I'd say he will not purchase me. Nor do I expect to ever acquire the funds to purchase myself either.."</i>What with his enemies closing in on him... She had a feeling if she had coin she would either lose it in whatever hiding place she chose.. Or she would be mugged in the streets, maybe even in his own home what with those blade wielding men. In reality she felt it was best he kept those of his inner circle well educated on the issues he had at hand. Especially when his favorite or most worth expensive slaves could be at jeopardy just for some sort of vindication.<br/><br/>She'd recognized long ago that nothing was above men who would sell human lives as their trade.<i>"There was nothing hid amongst our words, just a mutual enjoyment for clever prose and metaphors."</i>He was offered a small clearly enthused smile. In all honesty it wasn't as though she meant to drug him from some malicious intent. It was actually common practice to drink such teas, especially amongst her people. She was just exceptionally well practiced with her brews to keep them all the more deliciously flavored with more subtle effects to calm the nerves without rousing unease should it climb one to quickly.<br/><br/>After all, it was meant to ease - not inebriate.<br/>