She wont fail.

Daphne knew the name, of course. Mumed Ankhalab was one of the biggest slavers in Eltabbar and one of the main sponsors in the gladiator games. He often brought specimens from the Underdark, in fact he was probably the one shepherding the goblins across the city the day before. His reputation was that of a shrewd and daring merchant, exactly the kind of person she needed.

The dryad returned to her quarters and prepared herself for the day ahead. A quick incantation confirmed her new robe had some form of defensive incantation woven in its fabric, it wasn't particularly strong but more than could be expected from her teacher. She tried it on, and found it gorgeous, it gave her body freedom to move and breath, and her loose skirt had the perfect place to conceal a wand.

It was still early and the streets weren't as busy as the day before, or perhaps it was just the way commoners gave way whenever someone dressed in scarlet came down the street. Some gave her elfin features a second glance, but none challenged her legitimacy as a Red Wizard.

"I am looking for Mumed Ankhalab" she addressed one of the guards at the **** markets. He kept his eyes low once he saw the vermilion and replied "he is overseeing the gladiators today, mistress".

She didn't find it hard to navigate to his estate, people were forthcoming with directions. She was allowed in at the gates, and brought to a luxurious room where she was served chilled wine and fruits.

The man was a portly fellow, perhaps entering his forties, but still sporting the strong frame of a warrior. He was dressed in a chain armor and carried his bloodied scourge. He paused besides a water basin to clean himself, and then offered an excuse for both his delay in greeting her and introducing himself, with his long list of accomplishment and riches.

"I am the Daphne, of the order of the abjurers." She offered in turn, a few words enough to balance his power and prestige. He wasn't particularly offended, it was just the way things were in Thay. He kept his distance as she continued to sip from his chilled wine.

"My gladiators have just began their morning drills, milady, but I can prepare your favorite to meet you either here, or in the pens." Daphne frowned a bit, so he added "Or we can move to the porch, where you can see them training." The slaver had assumed she was another bored noblewoman eager for a thirst with one of the virile gladiators. Or that she was looking for more muscle for her coterie.

"That isn't why I am here." She tried to spin her situation as a business opportunity, but she had little hope the slaver would be enthusiastic about it. "Even if you manage to set up your enclave there, which will be very hard" she agreed "what is that to me? Aglarond doesn't allow **** traffic, and would watch your venture too closely to try a covert operation."

"Well, I could try to give you reasons, but you are obviously the cannier entrepreneur between the two of us." She set down her empty goblet "Why don't you tell me how this could work out?" She didn't have a mirror, but could imagine how her new robe would contour her body as she sat back.

He didn't say anything for a while, enjoying the view. She continued the show, languid, feeling a bit like a dancer in a raunchy tavern. She picked a grape and meant to swallow it, but it slipped from her fingers and went down her cleavage. Rather than lose composure she gave a mischievous smile, as if it was an invitation.

He crossed the distance between them with two strides, and before she knew his bulky body was over her. She felt his wet hands press her boobs together, making the lost grape surface again,and his tongue going all over until he got it. It was ticklish and she must have let out a laugh. He took that as permission to go on, but his armor not only chafed her, it threatened to ruin the enchantments in her new robe.

"Lets get a bit more comfortable, shall we?" Daphne whispered in a husky voice. She felt a pang of relief to see it wasn't too late for her garment, and had time to fold it carefully while the slaver took off his bulky armor.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine it was Avrak when he came closer again. He grabbed her roughly, almost mauling her breasts in what passed for foreplay in his mind. She **** her moans out of her mouth, but they turned to a yell of pain when she felt his teeth on her neck, he marked her good before tossing her down to the cushions on the floor. He meant to take her then and then.

"Tvam mama mitram" she recited before she even knew what she was doing. She meant to surrender herself to seal the deal, but another part of her told this was wrong. Off. She was glad to see the old man hesitate, proof her enchantment held true. He still had a hard on and she was naked, but he stopped when she asked "You aren't Mumed, are you?" the numb guy shook his head.

"Well, you can come off now" there were a few places in the room where a person could hide, but it was one of the 'guards' that stepped forward and said "I am Mumed Ankhalab". This man was perhaps in his mid thirties, but had none of the decaying physical strength. His exposed chest showed two dragon tattoos, and the artistic talent suggested they had been quite expensive to make.