Despite her best efforts, Erica was finding it difficult to avoid closing her eyes and lying across the backseat bench of the armoured car as it sped across rolling hills, through forests and fields, and passing settlements of various sizes. At least that's what she imagined was passing by outside the windows of the car as she attempted to get some semblance of sleep. She had slid to the other end of the bench so that she wouldn't be lying on her sheathed sword, but resting her body weight against her prosthetic was uncomfortable as well. It pushed the socket into the rest of her shoulder, which ranged from feeling off to outright painful. So she'd given up on that, opting to close her eyes while sitting upright. Packing the space behind her head with the spare pillows that had been provided, she wondered what, if anything, Damon made of her fussing this much. Cracking an eye open to take a stealthy peek, she saw the Altean general hadn't shifted from his cross-armed pose since they set off. Strangely disappointed but unsurprised, Erica went back to trying to get some sleep. 

As she started to drift off, memories floated past in her mind. Fighting the Diezens on the way to Watersteel, her struggle against The Black Apostle. Riding and piloting the Invictus, smelling the ocean for the first time. Getting her prosthetic arm installed, all the shaping training she underwent at headquarters. Waking up in the Zellas hospital with Damon in the room, Angor-

You won't want to miss this, a familiarly righteous deep voice cut through the flow of memories. The voice ticked her off, but she groggily opened her eyes and saw the most impressive architecture she'd ever seen.

Erica slid to the center of the bench to get a better view of the massive wall encircling the settlement ahead of them. Towers were spaced evenly across the wall, mounting defensive breech-loaded cannons that could be aimed downward at any foe that closed the distance. The steel exterior gleamed in the sun, the blue lake surrounding it sparkling as the wind rippled its surface. A bridge stretched from the wall across the lake to the shore to the south. There was a sizeable hole on the north-western side of the wall, where a small harbour spread out into the lake. Fields of various crops radiated from the lakeshore with a dense forest to the north. As the car started to descend the hill they were on, Erica's view of the fields and lake flattened, leaving her to look at the walls once more. It must have been fifteen meters tall, dotted with arrow slits and crested with battlements. They were heading toward the bridge, fields zipping by as they drove parallel to the shore. 

"There's plenty more to see inside," Damon piped up, "Dirkland is quite different from anything you've seen before, I'd wager."

"One way to find out," Erica muttered as she kept staring at the city walls. It took them a few minutes more before they reached the bridge and turned onto it. A stone construction, wide enough to comfortably house traffic going to and from the city simultaneously. After rumbling their way toward the gate on the right side, they came across the drawbridge, a 10 meter length of reinforced timbers held up by hefty chains to the walls. After they crossed, they halted in front of the city guard, men and women wearing light breastplates, vambraces, greaves, and helmets over a deep green uniform, holding repeater rifles at ease and wearing sabers at their hips. After a brief look at an itinerary they waved the car through, and Erica got a view of the city itself.

While the concept of multi-story buildings wasn't new to her, Erica had never imagined such verticality in such a confined space. The road here was bumpy cobbles, still wide enough for two lanes of traffic, but the sidewalks were so narrow that people were shoulder to shoulder with the walls and the side of the car on their right. The wooden buildings within were three stories tall, walkways crisscrossing the street on each level. Erica noted a higher volume of kroll here than she'd seen previously. Ahead was an elevator for foot traffic to navigate the second and third levels. There was an unarmed individual wearing a red guard's uniform by the elevator, looking around with boredom. 

"Firefighting shaper," Damon explained, "With this much wooden infrastructure, it's necessary to post them at regular intervals across the city to contain any blazes before they can cause serious damage."

As the car wound its way through the winding streets, Erica could make out a stone spire reaching for the heavens. "What's that?"

"The center of the administrative district, and our destination. It will still be a few minutes of us bumping around before we get there."

"I guess I have to thank you for the pillows again," Erica mused as they continued. The glass of the window smacked into her forehead when she tried to get a better view of the spire right as the car rocked to the left. Embarrassed, she quickly turned to see if Damon had noticed, but his eyes were forward. If the audible 'thunk' alerted him, he didn't show it.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, the rocking of the car and the hubbub of the people on the levels above them filling the air. Light flooded the street ahead of them as they drove into the open court surrounding the administrative building. It was a massive building, three stories of stone blocks dotted with windows and doors. The spire from before stood another two stories above the rest at the building's center. People in maroon administrator's robes milled about, reviewing documents at tables or discussing the latest clerical error to be uncovered in small groups around the commons. The car rolled up to the closest parking zone marked with white paint to the largest set of double doors into the building. The car's shocks screeched as it came to a halt, and the Altean generals stepped out. 

"This is all for administrative work? This building is almost as big as Copperwood's whole market square," Erica marveled.

"It isn't just for Dirkland's affairs. This being the capital for Bladefell, they have a lot of other places to keep records for," Damon said as he started for the double doors.

Erica fell in step behind him as they approached the building. The administrators eyed them silently, not daring to interrupt them. Damon opened the left door, stopping himself from slipping through when it was just wide enough for him. He stepped back and held it open for Erica, watching impassively as she walked past him into the administrative core of Bladefell. The inside of the building was cavernous, the main entryway's vaulted ceiling stretching up to the roof. Wooden accents and furnishings gave the place a warmer feel than most stone buildings with their deep brown polished finishes. Benches divided the approach to the central spire while the walls housed doors leading to offices and departments Erica would rather not try to comprehend. Three grand chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting maiga-fueled light across the space. Erica hadn't noticed she'd stopped to absorb the sight of the foyer until Damon strode with purpose past her. Moving into gear, she quickly caught up with him before reaching a set of doors being tended to by a grey kroll in a smart red uniform. The kroll watched them approach before wordlessly opening the left door, signalling for them to walk through. As they did, they found themselves in a small wooden room barely five meters wide or long. It was made from the same polished and stained wood as the furnishings outside with no stone in sight, lit by a maiga lamp in the lower ceiling.

The kroll stepped in with them, closing the door behind it. It rasped, "Where to? I must presume you wish to speak with Boss?"

"Correct, please take us to Mr. DeMurian's office," Damon confirmed.

Without a further word the kroll attendant opened a small panel next to the door that Erica had missed before and pressed a button. The room lurched upward and Erica realized this was an elevator, far fancier than the lifts that could be found in the rest of the city. She could faintly feel maiga flowing through circuits in the walls that allowed for all this automation. After a few moments the ascent of the elevator slowed then stopped. The attendant opened the door and gestured for the Alteans to proceed. Damon walked forth wordlessly, while Erica gave an awkward nod of thanks to the kroll. The attendant reciprocated the nod before closing the door that Erica could now see had two layers to it. 

The hallway here was much shorter than the foyer below but was even more ostentatious, with gold trim accenting the warm brown of the wooden features on the walls. A desk with an imposing kroll seated at it barred the way to a set of stairs on the left that spiraled inward and upward. This kroll was wearing a navy blue blouse with spectacles held onto her face with a string around the back of her head. She was scratching away with a quill and did not stop when Damon stepped in front of the desk.

"Do you have an appointment?" She inquired dryly as she dipped her quill in an ink pot and continued her scribing.

"Yes." 

The secretary glanced up, finishing what she was writing before setting the quill down and consulting a separate document on the desk. "Hmph. Damon Arbiter, to have an audience with Boss regarding recent... events, at pointward Bladefell. Correct?"

"Yes."

The secretary's gaze shifted to Erica, boring into her with yellow eyes. "And she is...?"

"With me."

"Ah, yes, I see that there's also one Erica Blaine to be in attendance as well." The kroll reached over to a wooden box on the end of her desk, pressing a button and saying aloud with great disinterest, "Boss, Mister Arbiter and Miss Blaine are here to see you."

A moment passes before a voice crackles through the box, an equatorial drawl common in Flamehaven resounding through the space, "Well then, let our guests through, Marlene! Time's a-wastin', and I'm sure these fine folks are as giddy to get this done as I am."

The secretary waved Damon and Erica past, "Up the stairs, to the only room at the top."

Damon proceeded immediately, moving toward the stairs. Erica was close behind, but paused a moment to address Marlene, "Thank you."

She gave a grunt in response. Figuring that was that encounter done, Erica continued behind Damon as they went up the steps. These stairs were less steep than average, built to accommodate shorter legs like the kroll had. After wrapping halfway around the tower, they were at another door, this one wreathed in carved detail. A human guard stood next to the door facing the stairs, holding a repeater. This one was dressed like the rest of the city guards save for the gold accents on his armour and weapons. Before he looked them both over and opened the door, Erica caught sight of the steel placard in the center of it. It read, 

Kraglos DeMurian

Governor of Bladefell

Mayor of Dirkland

CEO of DeMurian Holdings

As she followed Damon through the door, she was met with the most ostentatious office she had ever seen. Gold trim and accents were heavy across the bookshelves that lined the walls of the moderately sized round room, as well as the window, tables, chairs, and main desk. The wood here was near black, and Erica realized that everything in here, barring the floor and walls, was made from ashwood, a rare and very expensive material prized for its colour and strength. Books and ledgers in volumes Erica had only associated with major libraries before stocked the bookshelves with lavish spines and covers. The office practically reeked of money, and at the center of it all was a copper kroll reclining in a padded chair.

The kroll had a ten gallon hat seated upon his head, a cream coloured piece with an iron plate on the front of it. Round, gold-rimmed glasses bridged his snout, kept in place by a steel frame. He was wearing a white embroidered button-up shirt over a pot belly and under a brown leather duster, decorated with reliefs in the leather. He had his hands held up, fingers interlocked with elbows on the desk, and each finger had gold rings with precious stones inlaid into them. A lacquered cane with a gold handle rested against the desk within easy reach of the kroll. Narrow yellow eyes studied the Alteans as they entered.

"Sit, sit. I'm certain we have much to discuss and would all like it if we could do so in as little time as possible," The kroll warmly stated, gesturing to the two ornately upholstered chairs that sat facing his desk from their side.

"Ever the pragmatist, Kraglos." Damon said as he took the chair on the left. Erica seated herself on the right.

"Even you must have heard the age-old phrase 'time is money', yes, Mister Arbiter? I happen to have been in the middle of managing matters relating to DeMurian Holdings, so time spent on this meeting will be time not making money. I do say, I was surprised when it wasn't just your name showing up on the docket, but also Miss Blaine's here, as well. May I ask the lovely lady what your part in all this is?" Kraglos had turned his gaze and attention to Erica, who was suddenly thrust into the spotlight under the nose of the biggest official on the continent.

"I, uh, I'm with the Altean Army, sir," Was about the best she could manage.

"I've not heard of a livin' woman serving with the Army. You're a new hire, then?"

"... Something like that."

"Splendid, splendid. So now I know why you're here; Mister Arbiter here is showin' you the ropes of managin' the non-combat side of the Army. Good, good... Now, to business. You're both here to give some more context to the report I received about that nasty business at and north of Watersteel, yes?"

"Have you had time to go over the report then?" Damon asked.

"I have, though it's mostly casualty figures, numbers of Diezen captives and locations of damage. What this document doesn't tell me, though, is how in Mortemheim did this occur in the first place?" Kraglos's tone was cool, not tinged by emotion but a calm, matter-of-fact baritone.

Despite the kroll's nonchalant demeanour, the air became charged with tension. Damon drew a deliberate breath before continuing, "Through an uncharacteristic and frankly troubling amount of forward planning combined with a rapid assault that blindsided the region. My mechans didn't have a chance to call in the incident, instead we only learned of something being awry when the absence of communications was noted. Myself and Erica personally investigated the outage and found a full scale Diezen invasion that we shifted gears to combat."

Kraglos was tapping his index claws together, clearly thinking. After a moment too long of silence he spoke, "So you find your enemy after investigatin' a communications blackout and go right into dealin' with them. We don't know what we don't know, so there was no way you could have gotten there sooner. I read you came from Flamehaven directly on your rumbler skiff, the Invictus. While fast, that wasn't suitable for being thorough with the investigation, so you disembarked and continued on foot for hours on end to reach Watersteel. There you crush what remained of the Diezen occupation and pivoted the Army to relief efforts. Is that account of events accurate?"

"That sums up my own involvement."

"And of yours, Miss Blaine?"

Erica wasn't expecting to be addressed again and had been suppressing the more unpleasant memories of the event. When she registered she was being asked a question, she rapidly reviewed what Kraglos had just said in order to respond, "Yes, that is what happened."

The kroll regarded her for a moment before turning back to Damon, "I'm not going to inquire further about the Diezens themselves, it's always the same with them. 'Murder for murder's sake', so tired and worn out. No, I'm more interested in what this is going to cost the country. You mentioned relief efforts were made by the Army, how extensive has this part of your support been?"

Damon shifted slightly in his seat, "We've provided immediate first aid and distributed food and water as needed to the most effected. Any property damage and lasting mental effects were not addressed by us, as that is outside our purview. I wouldn't know how to begin tallying repair costs and losses to productivity, but I'm certain you already have your people working on that."

"As soon as I heard what had happened I sent relief efforts of our own, they just took longer to get there. Surveys are being taken to assess damages and losses, it will take quite some time for us to fully comprehend the extent of the impact of this incident. A regrettable couple of days that the Diezens got one over on us."

Damon's expression hardened, "I have to take responsibility for the lack of response. Had we not been blindsided, this incident could have been contained or even averted altogether. Please, accept my sincerest apologies." Damon bowed his head low. Erica could feel frustration and regret emanating from him.

Kraglos waved his hand dismissively, "Head up, man! Mopin' ain't gonna fix anything. I say, you do what you do on a volunteer basis, there's no way I could seek reparations from you."

Damon reluctantly raised his head. Erica swore his eyes were nearly black instead of their standard slate grey.

"... Now, that's my official statement, as the governor of Bladefell. As the CEO of DeMurian Holdings, if you want to make things right for the costs your oversights have incurred, there is a way."

"I've already told you, no." Damon's eyes flashed with anger, but otherwise avoided lashing out.

"I haven't even told you what it is that I'd want!"

"It's the same every time I find myself in this office. We discuss whatever matter it is I've come to discuss, and you invariably bring this up. But I'll humour you. What is it you want?"

Kraglos leaned back in his chair, his large gut sticking out further. He faced Damon, but his eyes wandered to Erica as he answered, "What I want is an exclusive license to altanite. I wouldn't ask you to abandon the material yourselves, but I want assurances that DeMurian Holdings would be the only company granted rights to the material."

"Out of the question." Damon crossed his arms, "Not only do we want to avoid giving Diezens any way of accessing altanite, which the circulation of the material would allow them to steal or loot whatever they came across, but we also can't risk altanite becoming too difficult for us to procure due to over-mining. We would also be handing you a monopoly to the scarcest metal on Tarsis, with who knows what consequences that would bring!"

"What would happen is that we would be the sole source of altanite for any metallurgists interested in the material. We would be dully enriched from the prices we could levy, and the world would have access to a unique metal that, for whatever reason, you are otherwise hoardin' the only known deposit of. It ain't some wonder material that you have been blessed by the gods to have, it's a bounty of nature that ought to be shared!"

"For the right price to the right people? No, we already have enough problems with altanite somehow making it into markets across Tarsis, and then into Diezen constructs. I know that people salvage what alloys they can from my fallen mechans, but usually it gets made into small items. Novelties, small weapons, tools. But flood the market with them, and we'll have to fight Diezens who are as well built as Altean mechans after they murder, swindle and steal their way into their own supply. Absolutely not."

Kraglos sighed and sat up straight again, "I was afraid you'd say somethin' like that. Fine. There is one other order of business we need to tend to before I send you on your merry way."

A look of confusion crossed Damon's face, "There is?"

"Yes, a matter I have to keep close to my chest, as it were. I have a document here," Kraglos reached into his duster, but when he produced an ornate revolver and aimed it squarely at Erica's head, she was suddenly very alert, "that says you will grant DeMurian Holdings access to that gods-damned altanite."

Erica tried to stand up, but Kraglos barked an order, "Sit down! Neither of you move, or my finger may slip on the trigger. None of that fancy maiga chicanery, neither! I've heard what you can do with those powers of yours, girl, but I also know that for you they start weak. You've redirected shots before, but at this distance with the small amount of power you have now? My shot would empty your brainpan in an instant."

Erica had little choice but to study the gaping maw of the revolver's barrel as he spoke. Its exterior seemed to be plated in gold, but at his angle there wasn't much she could see. 

"You would stoop this low just to get my metal?" Damon said through gritted teeth. Erica could feel him having to repress his anger along with his shaping, lest either explode and make things worse.

"I'm doin' what I must to get what this company needs to thrive! You've stonewalled me at every other juncture! Now you finally come here with someone not immune to lead poisonin', and I'm not wastin' that opportunity! Only way she leaves this office is after I have a signed license agreement, or dead."

"You seem awfully sure that those are the only two ways this will play out," Erica spoke up, "You're not worried about your own safety or if that document will hold any water?"

"Ha! Girl, I am the law of this continent. What I say goes, goes. As for safety, Mister Arbiter here won't kill me. If he deigns to harm me after you... disappear, he and his Army will have to figure out how to smooth over the optics of assaulting a public servant unprovoked. Now I'm not normally a gamblin' man, but I say my odds are looking rather good on this end of the gun. Now, Mister Arbiter," Kraglos pushed a document across the desk toward Damon, "all I require is a signature in a few places and we can put this whole nasty business behind us."

Damon glowered at Kraglos, a faint pressure beginning to radiate off of him as his control over his shaping began to slip. Erica began to panic, worried that that would be enough to set the kroll off, but if he noticed he didn't react. Instead, he cocked the revolver's hammer with an ominous click.

"Tick tock, Mister Arbiter. Time is money, and I'm running out of patience. Your signature, or her life."