You’re ${character.name}, a recent law school graduate and junior associate at the law firm of ${Name of your law firm? Ex: Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe}. Your specialized area of practice is in international trade and contract law. You’ve handled a few small clients so far, but you’re as surprised as anyone when your firm gets a call from Sneed’s Feed and Seed, Inc. The Sneed Corporation is a multinational agribusiness giant with its own legal department, but for some reason, their representative asks for a private consultation with you, personally.
Of course, you accept. You fly business class as far as Pittsburgh, and rent a mid-sized BMW for the drive to Teckleville. After a pleasant drive through Pennsylvania farm country, you reach the Sneed headquarters, several modern office buildings on a park like corporate campus. At the front desk, a cheerful receptionist tells you that you have an appointment with the head of the company himself, Charles Sneed.
You find Sneed in his wood-paneled office on the top floor. The billionaire cuts an imposing figure, broad and visibly muscular beneath his open-collared dress shirt, with a wild mane of black hair that reaches his shoulders. He sits behind an antique wooden desk, enthroned on a bulky office chair like some barbarian king of a forgotten age.
The other man in the room is quite different, but no less striking in apprearance. He’s small and slender, with fine, youthful features that belie his snow-white hair. He’s dressed in a tailored suit cut from what looks like spun silver cloth.
“Welcome.” The billionaire says, rising to greet you. “You can call me Chuck. Most people do. And this is Castus.”
You shake hands with both men, and take a seat in front of the desk.
Chuck’s grin reminds you of a shark, somehow. “You come highly recommended.” He says. “You have experience negotiating contracts in the US, Europe and the Far East. You’re supposed to be a quick study, used to learning and dealing with unfamiliar laws and customs on behalf of international clients. Would you say that’s accurate?”
“That’s a generous way to put it, but yes.” You say. “Now, what can I do for you, Mister Sn…uh, Chuck?”
The grin widens. “Castus, here, is legal representative for the Fae of the Summer Court.” Chuck says. “We’ve already made contact with his people, and an initial proof of concept exchange went well. Now, we’re negotiating a long term framework agreement for future dealings. But the Faerie Courts have their own ancient laws. I want an outsider’s perspective on our deal, to keep everyone honest.”
You’re stunned. “Excuse me, sir, but…what? Fairies?”
Castus looks amused. “We’re quite real, I assure you.” He opens his briefcase, and takes out a slim, leatherbound volume. He offers it to you.
“This is the section of Fae Law that covers trade with outsiders.” He says. “Once you’ve had a chance to study it, I can help with any further questions. Although I represent the Court, I am honorbound to answer any question of law.”
Chuck slides a thick folder across his desk. “This is an early draft of our deal.” He says. “The bulk of what we’re offering is exotic herb and flower seeds, along with certain manufactured items the Fae find useful. They’re paying partly in faerie-gold, partly in less tangible goods. Dreams, songs, lost memories, that sort of thing. I want you to get started immediately.”
You accept the book and the folder. “I’ll do my best, sir. First, I’ll need to