>> to convince the target to send ITSELF back to hell?]

[He feels the tightness in his throat that comes right before a purr, ever so pleased with himself, but he resists it and simply stands there waiting, arms behind his back]

>> into the Temple, and he'd sent the Fiend back to Raphael's House. Not a drop of blood spilled of Tav's party]

[There was no shortage of sharp, bloodthirsty blades amongst mortals. Feyran knew this. So he kept his tongue and wits even sharper]

[How many assassins had Raphael hired that managed >

Hm.

[His eyebrows lift just slightly, and his gaze becomes a bit more piercing]

Have you thought more about my offer?

Now that I've given you a proper demonstration of my potential.

[And even to Feyran's high standards of himself, it had been a marvelous display]

[Only an hour after venturing >

Ah, but how dare I hog your attention.

I'm sure it's Tav you're really here to see.

[taps his temple meaningfully]

I should think it was obvious.

Most devils I've met say they can smell the blood on me. Hm..

I've made it 37 years haven't I?

No need to worry about that.

Daggers often do. So long as they have decent incentive to not end up in each other's backs.

Which, we both do. Huzzah.

We'll be back.

Of course. Spare the ones that owe us a debt.

May I take Astarion with me?

If there's anyone you want me to *avoid* killing I suggest saying so now.

If I thought I should be in charge I would never have approached you and promised you my blades.

Of course you do. I'm an excellent dance partner.

I wound a lot of people.

/Finally./

It took you long enough.

That will never happen.

Assassination is my trade.