You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else. -Einstein

Dilys had left her uncle Duncan to introduce Qara to the rules and duties she would have to learn for her stay at the Sunken Flagon. Their little party seemed to be growing more every day, and Dilys was always happy to welcome a willing member to their group. Qara seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea.

Dilys would have liked for them all to sit at the same table so they could discuss where they have been and where they were going, especially since she had been plagued by bizarre, blade-wielding creatures lately, but they were a bit short on chairs. She scanned the room for an unused one, but the tavern was quite busy this evening.

Her eyes came to rest at an empty chair at the corner of the table near the fireplace, next to one of the regulars who preferred to drink alone. She would normally have let him be, but he didn't seem to be using the chair so she approached the table.

"Excuse me," she started, placing her hands on the back of the chair she intended to claim.

"If I wanted a wench, I'd go to the local brothel," he cut her off without looking up from his drink. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise for a moment before she settled into a scowl. She knew his statement was aimed to shock her into leaving him alone, so she decided to battle it with a little shock value of her own.

"Well my shift doesn't start until after midnight, but you wouldn't be able to afford me anyway," she countered. "I'm in the top tier of wenches." He looked up at her then, and gave her a once over. His expression held the usual speculative glare that she would get from people when they noticed she had a bit of Aasimar in her.

Her dusky pink skin was paler than most, and the shiny platinum hair she always wore up made her look much older than her other features suggested, but she knew it was her uncanny golden eyes that put people off the most. They were just a shade too light to seem a natural brown.

She supposed people would just assume she was a fair-skinned human whose hair had grayed early on, and then learn otherwise when they saw her eyes. People didn't like surprises. It made them feel like she had tricked them before she even met them.

This man however, quickly adjusted to her atypical eye color and let his eyes roam freely over her body. She suddenly regretted removing her armor earlier, as her clothes were snug enough to give him a generous view of her curvy form. She tried not to make her discomfort evident as she pulled the chair back from the table to interrupt his ogling.

"I'll just be borrowing this chair then," she said, gesturing towards the table her friends were sitting at.

"No, no, stick around," he drawled, leaning back in his chair and fixing his eyes on hers. "A few more drinks and you'll start looking good to me." Dilys's eyes narrowed and her grip on the back of the chair tightened, but she kept her smile pleasant.

"Certainly. As long as your coppers are going into the support of this fine establishment, you can get as drunk as you like." She nodded in approval. "If you're inebriated enough, you might even mistake my dwarf friend for a small woman and wake up with an amusing drinking story." The man lowered his head but kept his eyes fixed on hers.

"You're Duncan's relative aren't you?" he asked, though he expressed no sign of curiosity. In fact his face betrayed no sort of emotion whatsoever, unnerving but not intimidating her. He was obviously not a pleasant man, and she wasn't sure if it was wise to go into her life story with the likes of him. She decided the best response was to keep her answer short and sweet.

"Yes, he's my uncle," she replied, furrowing her brow. She needed to steel herself for another of his off-putting comments. He simply looked over at Duncan for a moment and then back at her.

"Can't say I see the resemblance," he said before smirking. She assumed it was the closest thing to a smile he had to offer, and she was uncertain whether to be flattered or worried. Dilys knew it was in her best interest to stay pleasant for as long as possible though. She had enough enemies dogging her trail already.

"Duncan is the half-brother of my foster father. He uses the term kin lightly," she said briskly. "Can I take this chair?" Dilys could hear some sort of battle of insults going on between Khelgar, Neeshka, and Qara across the room behind her. Considering they were all stuck here together because of her she felt she should be with them, but she was stuck trying to get a chair without causing an outright tavern brawl.

She cursed herself for even bothering to acknowledge his first comment, but nooooo. Her big mouth wasn't about to walk away from a verbal smack down. Someone compliments her and she just shrugs it off, but when some random guy insults her she strikes up a conversation.

Ugh, she thought, disgusted with herself. She really needed to learn to just be silent sometimes. Unfortunately her internal frustration was starting to show on her face, which only seemed to spur on the man at the table.

"No, I'm using it," he answered, looking away from her and taking another swig of ale. She looked around the room, hoping someone she knew would walk by and provide backup. But no one came, and she was helplessly alone against this difficult man. She was no longer smiling, but remained civil.

"There's no one here," she said, realizing too late that pointing out the obvious wasn't going to do her any good. Maybe he would feel sorry for her stupidity and give up the chair then, but he just smirked again.

"You are," he countered. She cocked her head to one side, not quite certain what he was getting at. "Have a seat." She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "Sit here for a little while and I'll let you have the chair," he bargained. "I won't even make you give it back." Dilys gave him a bewildered stare, without a clue of his motives.

"I don't need your permission you know, I could just take the chair," she explained. The last thing she wanted was for this to go on even longer.

"But you won't. You're much too sweet a girl to take a man's chair when he's just offered an invitation at his table. Sit down." His tone was acidic, and she knew that if she just took the chair now, he could easily stab her in the back with that very conspicuous dagger he had strapped to his chest. She was in Neverwinter after all, and the people here seemed to have no qualms about hurting others simply for sport.

She gave a heavy sigh before pulling out the chair and sitting down. I should have just smashed the chair over his head, she thought. But then a fight would break out, and Khelgar would start punching people right and left, and the Flagon would see a healthy share of property damages. While she certainly felt like hitting someone right now, she didn't want to do that to Duncan.

"You know I really should be seeing to my new guests," she offered, trying to keep things brief.

"I'm sorry. Do I look like I care?" he spat, his brown eyes flashing. The wheels began to turn in her head as Dilys gauged his reaction. He had switched back and forth between the epitome of unpleasantness to being almost bearable. She propped her elbow up on the table and rested her head in her hand, staring hard at him.

He seemed capable of civility if trying to hold an actual conversation, but whenever she had directly attempted to leave, he lashed out, acerbity and sarcasm being his primary language. She didn't really want to have a conversation right then and there, but he wasn't giving her much choice. She needed to take control of the situation, and that would mean getting on his good side until he was willing to release his hostage. All she had to do was speak his language.

She must have been staring too long at him because he leaned in and asked, "Has it been that long since you've seen a real man?" Dilys's eyes gained a challenging glint, and she determined right then and there that if she was going to have to play his game, she would not loose.

"Well," she started, looking back at her companions at the table. "There's- uuh… Khelgar… no, he's really just half of one…" she mumbled. "Maybe Duncan… err…" She turned back to him and shrugged, a shifty grin dancing on her features. "I guess so." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly and the barest hint of a smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth.

"What's your name?" he asked slowly, his voice making it sound more like a command than a request. She lifted her head slightly, her hesitancy evident. He chuckled in a way that sounded almost sinister to her. "You don't trust me?" When she didn't reply, he continued. "Come now. It's not like I can use it against you."

"Dilys," she replied glancing down to feign examining her fingernails. Her eyes were invisible through her thick lashes when she did this, forcing a break in eye contact.

"Dilys Farlong, eh?" he asked. He was using assumptions to get information without asking for it. It was a rather underhanded approach and she knew she needed to change the direction of the conversation to bypass it.

"Dashurie," she corrected. "Dilys Dashurie. I go by my mother's surname."

"I wouldn't want to admit any relation to Duncan either," he said. "As I'm sure your mother isn't nearly as boorish."

"I wouldn't know," she muttered, ending the line of conversation. "And your name is…?"

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Bishop."

"Hmm," she replied, looking back up at him. "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you Bishop, but my idea of pleasure is a little different." She set the bait that he would no doubt take.

"Well now," he started, leering at her. "Why don't we go somewhere more private and you can show me what your idea of pleasure is?" His response was exactly what she had anticipated. Dilys enjoyed seeing her methods bear fruit, and her need to be rid of his company was suddenly much less urgent.

"See, I don't know if you'd like it," she said, clasping her hands together on the table. "It involves a cat o' nine tails and a washboard, and various gymnastics on your part." He actually laughed then; a lighter laugh that contrasted his dark demeanor.

"I'm guessing you haven't had many takers on that offer?" he asked with a sly grin.

"Not a one," she replied with a genuine smile as she leaned back in her chair. "It's a rather adventurous endeavor, and adventurers are so hard to come by these days."

"If you haven't had any takers then how do you know you'd like it?" Bishop asked, being contrary simply for the sake of it. Dilys wondered if he would argue with a compliment just so he wouldn't have to concede anything.

"You never learn anything new without a little experimentation," she replied with a wink.

"I see," Bishop replied. "So if I suggested an experiment, you'd be willing to help me out?"

"If it interests me," Dilys said, bringing her finger to her mouth in thought. "Though I'm usually interested in the methods that allow me to physically harm others, so you can understand how most people would choose someone else to be their assistant."

Bishop smiled wryly. Her little act was an effective way to get someone to bugger off without causing a scene. But he could tell that it was just that- an act. And he wanted to look behind the scenes.

"Hmm," he started. "I guess growing up in West Harbor gave you an over inflated sense of adventure…" Dilys stopped smiling and tensed up a bit at his remark. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

"Where'd you hear that?" she asked in a casual voice.

"Duncan said something about it," he replied, his smirk matching her voice. Bishop watched with amusement as she turned around in her seat and gave the back of Duncan's head a dirty look from across the room.

"Big mouth…" she mumbled under her breath before turning back to Bishop. If he wanted personal information he was going to have to give up some first.

She looked at him for a calculated instant before speaking. "So you're Duncan's friend I take it?" Bishop mirrored her earlier reaction as his smile melted from his face, leaving a mask of stoicism.

"Not exactly," he replied, taking a sip of ale to obscure his face with the mug. Dilys would have to remember to have a drink handy if she was ever being interrogated.

"Then why are you always staying at the Sunken Flagon?" she asked. "It's not exactly the nicest place on the Docks, it's not even the cheapest."

"Because I like waiting around for spirited little Aasimars to approach me in need of my services," he replied, sounding almost bored with her question. "I'm only too willing to deliver."

Dilys slumped a bit. She wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him about anything. All she could do was keep playing his game. She was having a little fun however.

Growing up in West Harbor, she had grown quite accustomed to playing with the boys, leaving her with a bit of a competitive edge. Of course, in West Harbor, playing was often comprised of fighting off the swamp spiders. And she had grown up with all of them, whereas she knew nothing about Bishop. It was a new challenge to get a misanthrope to enjoy her company, and a little thrilling.

She crossed her arms and said, "I'm not a little girl you know. I bet I even have more experience than you." She savored the ambiguity hanging in the air.

"Oh really? And how do you intend to prove that?" Bishop asked. "Are you going to teach me a lesson? Put me in my place?" Dilys turned her nose up at him and thought for a moment.

"One sword and a half plate against any arsenal of weapons you have to offer. This is the method with which I will educate you," she said with a confident smirk, keeping the terms clear and clean cut. "I hope you like pain."

Bishop laughed softly before saying, "Bold words, little girl. But you're in way over your head." He leaned in and rested his forearm on the table. "You don't stand a chance."

She leaned in as well to meet his challenge, making it appear to onlookers as if they were discussing some sort of conspiracy. She stared him right in the eyes and grinned before replying. "Bring it on."

"Dilys, what are you doing over here?" Duncan's voice sounded, bringing Dilys back to the present. She suddenly realized how close her face was to a strange man's and quickly sat up straight in her chair. "Your companions are waiting for you." Duncan continued, walking up to them and placing himself at the corner of the table between her and Bishop.

"Ah, Duncan. Master of timing as always," Bishop said. Dilys watched as his expression turned sour. He apparently did not like Duncan. But then again, a lot of people didn't like Duncan, and Bishop seemed the type to not like anyone.

"Why are you bothering her Bishop? Why don't you just stick to your own company like you usually do," Duncan spat. He assumed that Bishop must have been harassing her, and if he had come by earlier, he would have been correct. But she had just gotten things under control and she wanted to make sure they stayed that way.

"It's all right Duncan. We were just exchanging dirty limericks," she said with the sweetest smile she could muster. They both stopped glaring at each other and turned to look at her. "Besides, there weren't any chairs left at our table."

"I'll get you a chair out of the back room," Duncan replied, collecting himself. "Come on now." Duncan moved away from the table and gestured for her to follow him.

"There's no need for that. She can have my extra chair," Bishop said in what may very well have been the most placating tone possible. Duncan's jaw dropped in response. He thought he would have died before seeing Bishop displaying an act of courtesy.

"Are you sure?" Dilys asked, matching his tone. "I wouldn't want to infringe upon your comfort." Duncan's expression was priceless, and she wanted to prolong it for as long as possible.

"I insist," Bishop replied, noting her willingness to annoy Duncan and reveling in the opportunity to make him squirm. "Take it."

"Why thank you," she responded, offering Bishop a smile she had perfected to devastation when she was younger, before turning to Duncan. "Duncan, why didn't you tell me you had such pleasant people staying at the Flagon?"

"I, uh…" Duncan just trailed off, immensely confused that she had just referred to Bishop as pleasant. "Let's uh, just get this chair over to the table," he managed to finally say, picking up the chair and moving toward the group table. Dilys shot one last victorious smirk at Bishop before turning and following her uncle. Bishop listened carefully to eavesdrop on them as they walked away.

"You must really have a way with people Dilys," Duncan said. "Bishop is normally the most disagreeable person in all of Faerun."

"Really? I can't imagine that," she replied, rather satisfied with the resolution of her little dilemma. "I find his company to be quite… animating." Duncan turned his head and stared at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"I think all of this adventuring you've been doing has left you a little not right in the head," he said, not entirely joking.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Dilys mused. "It makes me so much more interesting."

Bishop laughed quietly to himself before returning his attention to his drink.

Very interesting indeed.

Phew! I started this as a series of one-shots shortly after the game was released, and then slowly weaved them all together over the years until it became a unified story, the longest one I've ever written. It's completely finished, but since each chapter is a self contained event, I'll be updating it once a week, on Fridays.

This is the first real fanfiction I got serious about writing, though I had posted others before now. So I'd love if you, the dear reader, would review each chapter, like it or hate it, so I can know what works and what doesn't. You will receive much love for doing so!