Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Note: KEEP IN MIND!! None of Raven’s harem members/lovers/wives will ever sleep with another man! Simply using their charm without doing anything sexual to make people talk and reveal their secrets is another thing! Also, the soldiers, especially the females, aren’t all part of his harem! Their having relationships is obviously normal! With that said, enjoy!

As the drinks were poured and breaths grew foul, Raven and his companions were scattered and surrounded by both servants and their masters–listening to their stories, asking questions about their rumored adventures, and trying to dig any dirt to get more information than what the stories warranted. Raven especially was targeted for information, yet one knowing glance at the converser spelled a swift end to such underhanded tactics.

And yet, dispersing in the small confines of the inn was his idea–one he’d discussed with his companies through the mana-fused eye’s ability to speak directly into their minds.

’Joselia seems trustworthy; I will keep her occupied while the rest of you get the others drunk and more easy to read.’ It was much of a mental espionage on one side as it was on the other. Amedith and Liliyana had slipped away momentarily to change into commoners that just so happened to be lounging at the inn as well.

Mel and Aria, both being elves, were naturally a comforting draw to the people of the consulate–including lord Haurum, who thought himself witty enough to ’steal’-even if for one night–one of the hero’s companions, as the hero had stolen his promised wives. Needless to say, both elves planned to take advantage of his apparent hubris to make him talk.

Meanwhile, Erika had separated herself from the group to accompany the only other man of note in the establishment. Brien Archalancer, the networking mogul of the consulate and the man in charge of everything that happens in the shadows.

Surrounded by curious women–some even from the injured soldiers who have come with the hero–he sat on a stool right at the bar, twirling his drink in a glance and being the eye candy for the ladies. Gentle smiles and sweet words have always been his weapon, but with a devil in her, Erika looked right past the facade and saw him for who he truly was.

’A charming spy relying on his looks. I wonder how many women he’s slept with only for him to stab them in the heart during the night?’ Asmodia’s chuckles echoed through Erika’s head; even the devil was fascinated by him. ’He is no fool either, priestess. Do not assume that he won’t notice what we’re doing here.’

"You know me, Asmodia," placing a hand on her chest, the priestess took a step forward. "I always trust the devil I know over the one I don’t."

To the sound of her familiar heels, the injured women perked off their seats and quickly moved to make room for her. Their eyes shifted between Brien and Erika, a silent haunt holding their thoughts hostage as the priestess might as well have been the daughter of Athenia in their eyes. And to be conversing so casually with the enemy, that too in front of her–made them wonder if they’d already fallen out of her favor and instead of her magic they’d have to rely on Jenna’s flesh-searing balms to treat their injuries?

Not blind to the sudden change in their demeanor, Brien turned in his chair and looked at Erika walking up to him. Setting his glass aside, he gently bowed his head and gestured in goodwill, offering a seat right next to him.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, high priestess?"

"Curiosity, would that suffice, Master Archalancer?" She smiled a practiced smile.

Getting off his stool, the man took off his hat and smiled right back–one knee slightly bent and a hand pursing his heart.

"Standing before someone who can level a city with her spells, I would be a fool to demand honorifics."

"I’ve been told that your people emphasize standing, Master Archalancer," offering him a hand, Erika lifted him back to standing. "You’ve already begun construction of Athenia’s temple; what remains is an orphanage in her name. The fool would be me if I treat you as any lesser. An alliance you wished to form, did you not? And when have we usurped with force where words can do better?"

Brien was astounded by the priestess’s verbage. Any other even close to her standing with whom he’d had the chance to meet were far simpler creatures. Shackled to their gods and emphasizing repetition and the spousing of dogma at every other word. Yet both Raven and Erika have spoken thus far with astute understanding of the council’s standing and culture. Making no direct attempts to undermine it, as was expected of them, for they stood at a greater military might than their nation.

"It is baffling how simple things get when both sides are willing to make some compromises," motioning at the stool, Brien offered Erika a seat again. "Care to lend me an ear, high priestess? As much as I would love to chat, I’m positive that we’re both here for something else."

Nodding her head in acknowledgement, Erika waved the soldiers away, and Brien did the same to his servants. Taking a seat beside each other, the mogul offered her a drink, which she decided to pass onto Asmodia as the devil manifested on the chair on her left. Astounded by the devil–but for a moment–Brien pulled himself together and casually turned his head to the bartender.

"A touch of privacy, Marlo," tossing the man a coin, he waved him off.

Left alone at last, he took a subtle sip of his drink and stared at the shelves of bottles behind the counter. All the while, the priestess could taste his hesitation over something–almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was about to.

"Haurum..." With a forced smile, he looked at her again. "I know what this is. I’ve used such tactics with a group to relax the tension."

Simply listening to him, Erika tilted her head and motioned with her eyes for him to continue.

"A coward, but who knows, even a coward thinks he has a spine if he’s sheltered from repercussion by the people around him." Swirling his glass on the table, Brien threw the rest of his drink back in one swift gulp. As his glass hit the table again, he rose from his seat and eyed the injured, soldiering women. "I only ask that you don’t kill the bastard. Nobody, and I mean nobody, is good as that idiot when it comes to logistics. Took us years to figure out that he was passively profiting from the books without breaking any damned laws even."

Giving Erika one last look, he added.

"I hope we have an understanding." His gaze lingered on Erika for a while, but the priestess didn’t say a word or even hint one way or the other. Feeling defeated in that matter, Brien finally dropped his shoulders and walked along to get drunk and have some fun with the others.

But before the night would be over and people slipped into their rooms with lovers and prostitutes, the man would notice Joselia walking with Raven and the rest of his companions, either stringing along Haurum or the direct servants to the council members. In the eyes of a spy, this was nothing more than another trick, and yet seeing Joselia’s drunken flush with Raven’s hand around her shoulder pricked him more than a little.

’A dark elf and a fair elven man...’ He knew that it would’ve never worked out between them in the end, and thus, to settle his angst, Brien went along with the women whom he had picked from the injured guests–all of whom were charmed by the first young male elf they’d ever seen–to fish for information, just like Raven and everyone else.