I had been spending an intoxicating evening at the Lucky Shaitan, attempting to recruit some of the lovelies working there to appearing in the Feast, when a most unusual thing occurred—I was joined by a lovely lady. No, I was not accosted by one of the employees, but by a fellow customer. It was then and there that I first laid eyes upon Sadirah, the Rahastran.
Dressed all in blue, she swept into the chair opposite me. I was torn between her piercing blue eyes and the intricately carved amethyst charm riding on her bosom. Eventually the eyes won out.
She told me that her cards had told her to search me out, that I would have a proposition for her. A more unscrupulous man might have tried to convince her that the cards also wanted her to return to my apartment for a more intimate discussion on the fine points of divination, and yet, being the aforementioned unscrupulous man, I did not.
I told her of the venture that Eerduz and I had started, and that if she graced our pages, we would be able to, together, expand the minds of the Zandir about the Rahastran people. Also, she would be compensated handsomely. She seemed intrigued, as she slowly shuffled her Zodar deck. I told her that I had felt drawn to the Shaitan that evening, as if forces beyond my control were summoning me (an embellishment, I know, but sometimes it is best to play into a person’s beliefs.)
Slowly she laid out the cards, a three card spread. First was the The Peddler, followed by Ardan, and finally, silver Talislandre. She leaned forward for a long time, gazing at the cards with half-closed eyes. I leaned forward as well, pretending to gaze at the cards, while in truth taking in her ample cleavage, now generously exposed.
“I will appear in your periodical,” she said at last, sitting back. “But I must be paid in silver.” I agreed to her terms, and ordered us a bottle of the Shiatan’s finest wine, a slightly fruity affair, and we toasted the Fates for bringing us together.