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“Ha!” Musif let out a sharp curt laugh at Dimitri’s jest about his dear friend. “I’d watch your tongue if you happen to meet her. Usually she is lazy as a fat housecat but if you get her worked up she is liable to show you first hand how she breaks bones. Etana is her name; she is the leader of the Sanctum of the open hand, a champion of our local martial art, and a noble of the Arakmatan houses.” He paused looking the man over, watching as his mind clouded and had more and more difficulties thinking in long coherent thoughts. Contrary to their master, Dimitri’s men were being rather quiet but the proprietor of the bar knew that if they were alive the local special blend of smoke was taking its due action on their minds as well.
“Now, while I am a man of business and I enjoy hearing about potential customers, I will not tolerate men of foreign nation coming into my place of business and making assumptions that I will simply bend to their will. This time I will be forgiving and attribute your brash statements to your youth.” His eyes hardened, his gaze focusing on Dimitri’s face. “Now you say you deal in information yet you offer me nothing except your own standards of business. You also claim that you will change our politics, perhaps I like the current state of our city.” Musif’s index finger tapped his own temple lightly and spoke with a sly smile breaking his lips. “You need to think more clearly if you want to do business with me.”
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