[center] [h1] A game of chance [/h1] [/center] 

[i] “Madame, you will find me to be of very little help in this, I am truly afraid. My brother would gladly kill me himself, or worse, just to dispatch the last of the Blissponii from this mortal coil.” 

“Lead on, young – eeerrm...lady.” [/i]

[i] Not QUITE what I was hoping for [/i] Nisvillia frowned inwardly, whilst keeping her slick smile very much present outwardly. [i] A mewling little noble with strong family ties I could use...but this? This will take a greater effort on my part. [/i] 

"If you two darlings would be so kind as join me." She gestured to Typho and Aryon with one fat hand. 

Nisvillia led the duo upstairs, to where the recently installed board room was situated. A great glass table stretched across the room, and a drinks cabinet sat vigilantly in the corner. Four staff members dressed in smart attire, with laspistols holstered discretely in their dinner jackets, stood watch on either side of the room.

She poured three glasses of Amasecc, offering them to the gentlemen, whilst keeping one back for herself. 

"So, we appear to be in a slight predicament, my loves." Nisvillia took a delicate swig of her drink, savouring the scorching taste as it burned and crackled at the back of her throat. "We have a gang war that needs defusing, and I believe it to be in our mutual interest that we don't all end up dead."

She sat down heavily in one of the slick metal chairs, which let out a moan of wailing protest beneath her ginormous weight, her ample rear-end spilling over the edges. 

"I hear you like games of chance, Typho" she cooed with a sharp smirk "Well, I have the Emperor of all gambles right here for you." 

She surveyed the pair, her narrow eyes sparkling with dark delight. 

"I need you two to help me disrupt the Fist's Intel. I need your help shifting the blame off of the Blue Virus...[i] and on to the Wicked Mob[/i]."