Hannibal's gaze she met evenly, without fear, apology or insult. She wondered briefly how his pride would affect him in future, if so small a matter as ignoring his comment let his temper flare up like this. How would he adjust, blend in, here, were males were considered inferior? Did he think he could afford and defend such pride? How different they were, her travelling companions, bound by nothing than the overpowering desire to become Drow, how little she knew of most of them. Would they seek to stay together, or prefer to each go their own way, now their destination was reached?<br/><br/>Thus were her thoughts before she descended towards the magistrate's office, not failing to take in every detail, and, after an initial evaluation, store it in her memory. As she meant to trade with the Drow, open a brothel or business in the part of Archrand were other races resided, and meant to learn as much as possible about the Drow before she even mentioned the outrageous desire that had brought her here, to make a favourable impression as a trader, and adjust as perfectly as possible as fast as she could, were her priorities. In a society as ruthless as this, as ready to destroy even their own kind, she must prove useful and know its workings - or perish.<br/><br/>She had not the least claim on any but one of her companion's loyalty, and doubted not that this one, too, would quit her company and service in the blink of an eye once a more promising opportunity offered. Not knowing their wishes, whether they would address their truest desire immediately, had services to offer or meant to work with and through her, as before, she could not speak for them. It had at first seemed none was willing to address the magistrate, but then, just as Ciara made up her mind that she would do it, then, Yuri spoke up, fearless, boldly, and directly to the point - the very point Ciara, always in favour of the indirect, subtle approach, would rather have reserved for a later time.<br/><br/>In secret, how Yuri took this situation on the very way she would an enemy, made her smile, but her face showed nothing but calm composure. Should she let matters rest in the warriors hands for now, see what would happen, let speak for all of them? Perhaps it was wise to mention the business Ciara was interested in, a far less outrageous request that contained an offer, too, from which the magistrate might profit directly - if he was no different from other magistrates, he would certainly claim a 'fee' for the trade he arranged, the business or brothel he allowed to be established... She recalled all she knew of the Drow, their language, customs, manners, and, when Yuri had finished, also approached the desk behind which the magistrate was reading.<br/><br/>That strange gift she had, to present herself in exactly the manner someone favoured, and to appear as the one who could find, provide, the very thing someone wanted most, would it work, with a Drow, or fail her for the first time in her life? Would her luck abandon her, this close to the only dream she had ever reached for, and what terrible price would she pay, then? She reached deep into herself, let her unique instinct take over, guide her every move, her facial expression, her tone of voice, hoping for it to do its magic as she greeted the Drow, using the words and gestures she so painstakingly had found out about and learned to use. She spoke of her intention to trade goods, adding she would welcome permission to establish a permanent business, if possible, a brothel, in town, as living in Archrand would allow her to provide products that far better served to satisfy the specific tastes and demands of this city than occasional visits with trading caravans could.<br/><br/>If her clothes and jewellery told she had access to materials highly valued and hard to find for those living in the Underdark, that she understood their tastes and cravings even now, this was nothing in comparison to the items she presented the magistrate as examples of what she traded with. One was a box containing three grains of a snowy white crystalline structure, almost priceless for those using Arcane Magic, the second a vial of the<em>huile absolue</em>of a nearly extinct flower which blossomed once, only, in centuries. Its petals must be collected at precisely the right moment, in a highly complex procedure its oil was won, the essence of its scent preserved. It had considerable use in magic, but was craved and loved, by Drow, for its scent alone, as for them, it was an aphrodisiac.<br/><br/>If she had played her cards well, this should convince him that letting her live and allowing her to settle in this city, would be useful. She had carefully calculated and prepared for this day over years, now it would show whether she had done well. She had tried to ensure she would not offer too little nor overreach herself, the objects and hitherto unmentioned information she had brought were of the kind and quality she could provide upon demand, yes, she would have more, and better, to sell. The full extent of her wealth, just how far her connections reached, what she knew or could lay hands on, would have surprised people much closer to her than any of her travel companions had ever been. Would her proposition to set up business in Archrand be accepted? If so, would it mean the others, or some of them, would want to work with her, and together, maybe closer even than before?