On one side of the table stood a very tired dwarf, a very irritated drow, and a very cheerful ghoul. On the other side stood a scaly abomination from hell and a very big lizard. There was little love between the parties. Thankfully, there was greed, which is just as good a basis for a relationship assuming you’re willing to deal with the occasional backstab. This is why all successful businessmen invest in good armor.

The lawyer clicked open his briefcase and produced a stack of white sheets. Hilda was almost disappointed to learn they were made from paper and not human skin or flattened eyeballs or something equally disgusting. While the material was harmless, the quantity was intimidating.

The lawyer cleaned his throat and smiled with the charm of a snake charmer who specialized in serving snake burgers. “The buyer needs 1,000 kilograms of sacrifice-grade obsidian. Now, before discussing the details of the payment and method of delivery, let us briefly go over the specifications.”

Obsidian, that was great! Hilda’s home cavern was full of the stuff! In fact, she was almost certain that one of her many brothers-in-law mined obsidian for a living; used it to make fake arrowheads for tourists or somesuch.

“Do you have it all written down on these papers?” Hilda asked.

“Indeed I do.” The lawyer said as he collated his documents into three neat stacks. “Now, in terms of geology--”

“Why can’t I just take the papers and read them at home?” Hilda insisted.

“You may have questions. It is advisable we avoid all ambiguity during the preliminary negotiations. The buyer is very literal-minded and does not deal with misunderstanding in a constructive way.”

“Does he use acid?” Philly asked.

“Expertly.”

“And tentacles?”

“Most invasively.”

“Oo!” Philly said. “That’s nasty!”

“Wait.” Hilda made the time-off gesture with her hands she learned from Medvak. “I thought this guy was the buyer.” She pointed at the massive lizardman with her chin.

The lawyer smiled and his forked tongue flickered through his thin lips. Everytime he did this, Hilda’s guts clenched. “Oh my, no, he’s a broker working for the buyer. Now--”

“Can I meet with the buyer?” Hilda blurted out.

“Oh,” the Lawyer made a face like talking to a child who just asked if she could eat the decorative fruit, “you don’t want to do this, Ms. Hagamid. I assure you. The final buyer is, well, let us say that in order for the two of you to meet, you’ll have to perform certain actions which will be contradictory to your alignment to the point of--”

“To the point of,” the huge lizardman growled in a voice like entrails ripped from a wound, “you’ll no longer be of service to me. If your service is of no use to me then your flesh, your agony, your screaming,” in his excitement, the huge monster drooled on the lawyer, who deftly protected his perfect hair with one of the paper stacks, “will give me much joy.” He leaned forward on the petrified mushroom, causing the multiton fossil to sink a few centimeters into the ground. The three women each took a step back. “Now shut your mouths and let this sniveling maggot finish his bullshit. I have no patience for your prattling!” The shaman grabbed the Lawyer by the back of the neck, nearly lifting the creature off the floor. “Be done quickly or you’ll be done quickly.”

The giant lizard let go of the Lawyer who, not the least bit fazed, tidied his suit and started going over the terms. Hilda noticed with satisfaction the pace of his speech doubled.

“Obsidian is a naturally occurring glass formed when lava extruded from a volcano cools rapidly with minimal crystal growth. Its uses include--”

“A lot of things that are none of my business.” Hilda interrupted the lawyer, fearing he might say something that will force her to give up on this job, making all her suffering in vain. “Stick to technical data.”

“Yes, of course,” the lawyer clicked his fingers. The topmost sheet on each stack turned to ash and scattered in the wind. “So in order to consider the purchase, the buyer will need a certificate of origin issued and endorsed by the chamber of commerce from the domain of dispatch. Two originals and two signed copies, none of which should be of arcane origin.”

“What is a cha--”

“Next you will need a phytosanitary certificate attested by a warlock or a sorcerer of at least ninth level. The sorcerer must be of draconic origins, either red or blue. Naturally, you’ll need one original and two signed copies.”

“‘Naturally…” Hilda echoed. “What does phy, phi, eh, phyto, sol, solemnity mean?”

“The seller will know,” the lawyer said briskly and reordered the sheets on the table with the alacrity of a rogue running a three shell con.

“Next, you will need a full set of bills of lading marked ‘clean on board’ and/ or ‘teleported with arcane magic only’ in Draconic and/ or Druidic. Stamped in four locations corresponding with the universal dimensions of--”

“Reality has three dimensions.” Hilda said smugly. This was something she was sure of.

“Will you stop interrupting the man!” Mina hissed at her, trying to scowl at the dwarf and smile at the lawyer at the same time. “I’ll explain to you everything when we’re home.”

“But we don’t live together--” Hilda saw the glare in the drow’s eyes and stopped talking.

The lawyer cleared his throat with a hollow rasp and went on. “Now, the bills must state ‘freight prepaid’ made out to the order of “as per terms of the letter of credit” and consigned to “as per terms…”

Hilda yawned. When she opened her eyes, the lawyer was already talking about packaging and certificates of weight, using measuring units she’d never heard of. Hilda blinked again. Now she had no idea what he was talking about.

“...in iambic tetrameter, naturally,” the lawyer said with a satisfied grin. “The rhyme scheme should be ABBA or ABAB, definitely not ACAB,” the lawyer chuckled at his own incomprehensible joke. “Now, in regards to the insurance policy and/or insurance certificate covering 110% of the…”

Hilda studied the cavern. The petrified warriors, the fierce lizardmen, the gorgeous rock formations, the strange arthropods burrowing through the stone…

“Teleportation and/ or transmutation company statement confirming that the level of spellcaster is no lower than nine or the age of the vessel(s) is not more than 28 years, the period of a year being defined as…”

Hilda turned and discreetly studied the drow. She was listening to the droning lawyer with absolute attention. Such smooth black skin, Hilda had never imagined a humanoid could be so black and smooth… almost like obsidian. They were pretty creatures, the drow, but their religion was an abomination to the Goddess and their cities were a threat to all life on the surface. Still, it would be nice to visit a drow city as a tourist. Pretty people, pretty buildings, probably interesting cuisine… Maybe Hilda and Gloin could use some illusion magic to pretend to be evil creatures on a visit? Maybe someday some peace treaty would enable dwarfs to safely visit drow cities...

“Other contract conditions: All documents must be edible by candle demons, bifocal snakes, and scholastic narfs. This should be certified by…” Hilda studied the ghoul, whose head was bobbing as she struggled to stay awake. As far as Hilda knew, elves didn’t need to sleep. How much of the elf Philly once was, remained in her monstrous body? Would she have looked differently if she was human prior to her transformation? How much did her personality change after she was afflicted with ghoulism? If Hilda cast remove curse on the ghoul, would she remove an affliction from a sick elf, or would she murder a ghoul and create a new elf in her stead? She’d already killed a man using remove curse once, in fact, she’d never used for any purpose except weakening her enemies…

“...each of the above documents shall have one original set which shall be sent to the buyer’s legal and financial representative or fecundity agent appointed by the chamber previously mentioned. And three, not two, non-negotiable sets to be sent to the buyer by a courier that may be a fairy (winter or autumn), a pseudodragon, a mechanical apparatus propelled by jet, rotors or…”

According to legend, dark elves were cursed by the gods for their sins. If Hilda cast remove curse on Mina, would she become a surface elf? Would it make her nice? If she did become a surface elf, would she still be able to broker deals with villains…Hilda noticed that the lawyer had stopped talking.

“That’s it?” She asked hopefully.

“Well, there’s also the appendix, but I was led to understand that should I proceed to elucidate its contents, my client will doom me to a fate worse than death,” the Lawyer smiled pleasantly. A forked tongue flickered between his lips. Hilda shuddered.

“Far worse,” the shaman confirmed with a voice like drowning in a bath filled with razors and hot sauce.

“Do you need me to sign anything?”

The lawyer grinned. “Madam, it would be an honor. I’m sure this signature will be worth quite a lot in years to come.” He then emitted a rasping sound Hilda assumed was laughter.

Hilda grabbed the sheets and turned to go. She could finally leave this terrible place and these terrible people. As soon as she got back to her cozy, little hut, she’ll cast a lot of healing spells, do a purification ritual, drink--

“Before you leave, dog slave of the moon,” the shaman hissed with a voice like passing a kidney catapult stone. “Know that Dajarlax there,” he pointed at a lizardman dressed in spiked armor and armed with a massive saw decorated with a baby skull motif. “Will never forgive you for the humiliation of his brother.

“He and his kinsmen shall haunt you forever. When they catch you, they will strip your limbs from your torso and pull out your guts from your stomach until you die screaming!” He then started laughing maniacally, the bellowing of an evil God whose time to darken the sun was at hand. Such lovely people I work with…

Mina was staring at the shaman, her eyes wide and mouth agape. Philly shifted from a squat to a battle crouch, ready to pounce. Turns out that even dungeon monsters had their limits when it came to homicidal madness.

“Teleport us home.” Hilda commanded.

“I, well, we just need to--”

Hilda grabbed the drow’s wrist, pressing so hard the delicate bones began to creak. “Now!”