[Georgi]

Amira's voice trilled its final cadence and fell silent. The patrons of the inn sat rapt with attention. She cast her eye over them until it lighted on a gentleman in a fine velvet cloak trimmed with ermine. She met his gaze with a slight smile, then slipped off her stool and bowed with an ostentatious but deft wave of her right hand. As though awakened, the patrons began to turn to one another and the general tavern hubbub began to grow again.

Amira made her way to the bar and ordered an ale, when a voice came from behind her. "Make that two - allow me, my lady." The man in ermine smiled at her, his silver hair shining in the candlelight.
"I would be delighted, sir," she replied with deference.
"Please," he leaned in conspiratorially, "call me Ralan."
{I}Sir Ralan Debrant[/i], she thought to herself. You didn't get far in these small towns without knowing the names of the noblemen and richest merchants; particularly those with a penchant for gambling.
"So, Ralan, will you be attending the tables this eve? Perhaps you will allow me to join you - for luck?" She winked at him.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Will you not quit while you are ahead?" Amira whispered urgently.
"But I'sh win shome more. Luck'sh on my shide tonight," Ralan protested.
"My lord, you are drunk. Will you not allow me to help you to your room before some scoundrel gets the better of you? You are in need of... rest."
"Damn it, wench!" he roared, striking his fists down onto the gaming table with a thud, and then remembered himself. "Verysh well. Wouldsht thou help me up..." He stumbled to one side as he rose to his feet, gathering his winnings into a leather pouch. Amira raised his arm around her slim shoulders and steered him towards the stairs.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ralan stumped onto the bed. "You'sh a beaushtiful woman, a beaush--"
Amira sighed. It was so much easier when they just passed out. She muttered a hasty incantation and Ralan's head immediately dropped onto the pillow. His mouth open, he began to snore loudly. She took the leather pouch and fastened it to her belt, then turned for the door.

"Damn, I almost forgot!" She moved her hands through the air, weaving a Modified Memory spell. Forgetting to do that - ironic though it might be - would be very bad for business in this town, as she had learned elsewhere. She planned to stick around a while longer.

Satisfied, she slunk silently out of the door.