It was a warm summer's night in Shulm, such that long after the sun had disappeared over the horizon, there was still plenty of festivity and flamboyance to be found on its streets. Indeed, the governor of the city was by all regards an incredibly selfish sort who gleefully embellished tax money and participated in all manner of illegal business, but the people forgave him for his lax enforcing of anti-slavery laws, which brought great wealth to the city, and for throwing extravagant parties in his mansion which pleased the gentry and nobility.
The governor's mansion was a monument to decadence, visible from anywhere in the city, and befitting of its size was staffed by a tremendous amount of guards, almost 500 in total, ensuring that there would be no trespassers or assassins sneaking in. Within its walls, corridors hung with the finest decorum and floors carpeted by the finest pelts awaited.
But most impressive of all was the mansion's grand hall, which was constructed with large functions in mind. A wide table, which had been served with delicacies from across the world, was flanked by people on all sides, who were dressed in the latest fashions and exchanging conversations with one-another.
Barion's contacts in the city were such that securing an invitation to the party wasn't completely out of the question. As a congregation of the city's most influential people, it was only natural that a member of the Merchant's Guild would be invited, so his presence there didn't appear strange in the slightest.
Barion twiddled a glass between his fingers, "So this is mandrake oil… it stinks just as bad as the cellar I bought it from."
"I suppose that means the governor decided to buy the barrels after all." Din, who was careful to conceal her voice, replied. When the two of them were admitted to the mansion, the guards had been quite strict about her status as an Elf. She was not the only one in that room. In fact, many of the aristocracy were being tended to by their slaves, almost all of them women. The sight brought a deep sickness to Din's stomach, but one she was quick to suppress.
"We'll go pick up our payment tomorrow." Barion mused, "In the meantime, I'm eager to see for myself just what kind of party this really is."
It was all at once that the lights, both from the candles and sconces, were extinguished as if by magic, and a loud chatter surged out of the darkness. The partygoers stared around them in confusion before the hall's double staircase began to light up--candles atop their holders flickering to life from top to bottom, and the more eagle-eyed of those attending could spot the candles illuminating the face of a man descending the staircase.
Governor Gleen was a short and portly man, whose greasy hair had retreated all the way to the top of his scalp. There could be no more accurate picture of a corrupt ruler than him. Nevertheless, he proceeded down the steps with a stride befitting his invincible position, a self-righteous smile peeking out from beneath his stringy moustache. When it had become apparent who was descending, the crowd erupted into muted cheers and clapping, some even raising their glasses to the man.
"Thank you! Thank you all!" He began, halting both hands in the air as if to command silence, "It is with great pleasure that I welcome my esteemed guests to this prestigious event. So please, drink and make merry on my behalf! It won't be long before the main event of our gathering takes place."
His speech, though brief, earned an ovation from the audience.
"They'll cheer for everything he says." Din whispered, "These people are all desperate to get into his good books. I don't think most would have bothered to come otherwise."
"That's the way of high society, after all." Barion concurred, "But still--the main event? I wonder what that could be."
Shortly following his appearance, the lights of the hall were reignited, and merriment resumed among the patrons, a great group of whom began swarming Governor Gleen. The pedigreed attitudes of highborn women dissolved into relentless complements and shameless seduction around him, wrapping themselves around his arms and pressing their shapely bodies against him. The governor seemed delighted by such advances, his own dignified facade falling to reveal a man of pure lechery. The sight nearly brought Din to sickness.
"This party is starting to annoy me. What was your plan to begin with?"
"I was going to strike up a conversation with him, but it seems I'm not the only one who had that idea." Barion answered, "Have you made sure to keep that hairpin I gave you secure?"
"Hm? Well, it's still there…" She replied, adjusting the pin with her hand, "Is it something special? I thought you were just trying to make me look 'presentable', as you so rudely put it."
"It's a magical item that records sounds. Up to an hour's worth."
"Why is it a hairclip? Why not a badge, or a shirt button?"
"It belonged to someone I used to know."
She smirked, "A girlfriend?"
"No. We were close comrades, though." He corrected, "I'll tell you about her sometime."
"So, we're trying to record something?"
"Proof--any proof that the governor is involved in the slave market. That'll give the Merchant's Guild all the permission they need to start cracking down on the city."
"Hm. And how are we supposed to do that?"
"That's what I'm not sure about. You could try seducing him?"
"I would rather be slowly dissolved alive by a slime cube than try to seduce that perverted lard-bucket of a man. Plus, he already has enough women on his heels."
"I'm sure an opportunity will present itself as the night goes on. For now, let's try to enjoy ourselves. I bet some of these people have a few market predictions they'd like to share now that their tongues have been loosened by alcohol."
It was a fact that Barion already had contacts in the city he could use to gauge local prices. For a merchant, there was no greater asset than accurate methods of predicting the market. However, most of the partygoers that evening were businessmen and landowners--those whose hands could shape the very means of production themselves. Barion kissed the shoes of many people that night, but the information he was able to acquire was second to none. By the time Governor Gleen had moved next to the hall's table to make an announcement, he had already begun planning his next route once he and Din left the city.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Gleen tapped the side of his glass with a stubby fingernail, "I do hope you've all enjoyed tonight's reception. But good food and drink isn't the only reason you've come here, is it?"
An inaudible expectation built up within the patrons, as if they had been waiting to hear this announcement their entire lives. Barion and Din looked on as the governor continued, "In the sanctity of this mansion, you needn't worry about laws or reputation. For it is only here, that Shulm's finest and most anonymous 'Dark Market' is held!"
He exclaimed the words 'Dark Market' with outstretched arms, and as he did so, the hall once again fell into blackness. Barely a few seconds later, the rigged sounds of a curtain rising, like that of a theatre's, rang out. Against the far wall of the hall, opposite its staircase, one such curtain was caught by its slack and slowly raised to reveal a raised stage behind it. Once the curtain had risen completely, the stage was suddenly bathed in blinding light, and the silhouettes upon it, which were almost invisible in the darkness, became illuminated.
"Wh-" Din's voice was drowned by a sea of cheers, "What the hell is this!?"