Nobles. Even the best of them, and there were a few, would cause no end of trouble for the city. Admittedly, the surrounding regions were run with more competence than what he would find on earth. But then again, the sentence for corruption on this world was execution, something he doubted earth would ever consider.

Earth. The thought of it still brought a twinge to his heart; His friends, his family…chocolate.

He sighed.

Jeremy stared at the city outside the window. The height of the House of Council offering him a view of all the important territories. He could even make out the market district on the other side of the river. He should really…

His thoughts were interrupted by the ‘Toad’. The head servant of the council. The locals referred to him as a third hand, the meaning lost something in translation, but Jeremy still felt the title was too big for the petulant little man. One of the history buffs that had come through had a different name for him, not that Jeremy could remember it. Not that he would use it if he could.

The man truly was a Toad. With his large round eyes, obesity resulting from the wealth rewarded to him by his profession, and the fact that for some reason the man always looked…moist. All packaged in a green uniform fashioned in the image of a bellhop.

The colour of the uniform resulting from limitations within the dyeing industry. As for the style of the uniform? Jeremy had been dealing with the council for over twenty years and still had no idea why they had chosen that particular style.

But these were physical things, and Jeremy was not one to judge a person by their looks. No, it was the man’s behaviour that displeased him. Petty and small-minded. With a permanent chip on his shoulder for not being the servant to actual nobility, he would find ways to punish people for not giving him the respect that he thought he so rightly deserved.

Which is why Jeremy had to clear his entire schedule.

When Mr. Goodwill had come to him in the early hours of the morning and explained what he had experienced the night before, Jeremy knew that he would spend the day waiting in the reception lounge of the grand hall. With a headache.

The Toad would inevitably place him at the bottom of the list, his business deemed unimportant. He had done so before, usually when Jeremy tried to petition for more funds for the city’s Summonee Integration Program. The council, tired from the day’s work, would rarely consent to his requests.

Jeremy could have tried to butter him up like his co-workers, but he had too much pride to ever consider it. His skin crawled with the very thought of having even the briefest of actions with the man.

“Mr Chase.” said the Toad, his bitterness at having to waste his time on Jeremy was far from subtle.

“Mr Woodcutter.” Jeremy returned, the Toad’s family name, an indication of his family’s original vocation and social station. A small part of him wished that the man would bristle at the mention of it, but anyone could see the pride in his eyes, the thought of how far he had come inflating his ego with each mention of it.

“I’ve come to inform the council of some trouble with the nobles.”

This did cause the Toad to bristle. Noble business rarely being anything but bad business. The chances of Jeremy getting home before sundown now within the realm of possibility.

“This incident would not have happened to have occurred last night by any chance, would it, Mr Chase?”

Jeremy stiffened in response. “It did indeed.” His informal manner of talking to Mr toad caused the man to tighten his lips. A small victory for Jeremy, but it would not win the war.

“Wait here, please.” The Toad abruptly left the room, leaving Jeremy to consider the implication of what had just happened.

There were any number of ways that the council could have found out about what happened, the majority of them being quite benign. It was the ones that weren’t that he was now considering.

If the nobles involved were seeking to hide their activities, all they would need to do is concoct a scenario in which Thomas was the transgressor. Him being a pickpocket or burglar perhaps, and the council would be pressured into handing him over.

They would not do so willingly of course. Even if he was guilty of a crime, there were just too few people from earth to waste on petty political moves. But with the unofficial embargo on their city and its goods a constant pressure on the council members. The benefits of relieving said pressure had to be considered, no matter how small the gain.

The only method of outweighing those pressures was equal pressure from the community. But thanks to Mr. Goodwill’s obsession with the sewers, he had remained largely unknown for the most part, despite having lived in the city for…a year now? Gods, how time just slipped away.

Jeremy tried to rack his brains for any memory of Mr. Goodwill having a friend or being mention in a good light, but no, nothing. Actually…now that he thought of it, he recalled a few complaints from some of the locals about a sewer monster that lurked under the streets, coming out at night to haunt the city. There was a loose connection to the boy, but if the city’s so-called reporters made the connection, there would be a public outcry. More to stick it to the foreign invaders than due to any actual fear for their safety. But it would increase the pressure on the council to hand him over.

Jeremy dreaded the thought of what would happen then. He and Mr Goodwill were more acquaintances than close, but the boy tried to help, tried to be friendly, just tried…. Unfortunately, whether on Earth or here, nice people were generally at the bottom of the power structure, and usually the first to be crushed when things went south.

Jeremy was roused from his thoughts a moment later as the toad barged into the room. Despite only walking, the man looked as if he had just run a marathon. And still so…moist.

“Please follow me.” The man huffed out between heavy breaths.

Jeremy was then led down a carpeted, grand hallway, the name being a description of its size rather than aesthetic qualities. The walls, an unsightly display of exposed brickwork, presented one with an impression of a newly constructed tenement building. To anyone on earth, a depressing sight, but awe-inspiring to most of the locals.

Perspective, he thought. Everything was a matter of perspective. The mass-produced bricks that made these walls, a treasure in the neighbouring regions, one the city traded through back-channels to acquire the valuable resources it needed to keep running.

Jeremy’s moustache twitched as his mind once again centred on the thought of perspective.

The valued resources being mostly wood and copper. The wood needed for both the furniture industry and cheap construction materials. The copper was vital to the development city’s electrical infrastructure.

The region had been heavily deforested when Jessica Stone wrought her vengeance, the following rise of the city nearly completed the devastation. A strict environmental protection act was put in place, the violation of which could even result in capital punishment.

Even nowadays, most of the people of the city had to resort to sitting on stone furniture or their floors.

Copper held far greater value as, like silver and gold, it was highly conductive to magical essence, making it much sought after by the industries for alchemy and enchanting. with all three metals being consumed during whatever processes they used to create their products.

The increasing demand and rarity of the metals making them valuable enough that Jeremy knew of no territory that would consider displaying them openly. Despite using the names, coins of the realm used iron and jade as a symbol of the noble metals.

A cough from his left startled Jeremy back to reality. He and Mr Toad had reached the end of the hallway, a pair of large steel doors blocking their view of what lay beyond.

Mr Toad gave himself a once-over he opened the doors and stepped through.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the council, Recognised of the House of Seven Rivers, Mr Jeremy Chase of the Department Sumonee Integration” was announced to the audience within.

Say what you would of the man; he could be the best of his profession when he wasn’t being an ass.

Jeremy walked into the council chamber. The carpeted path of the grand hallway leading straight to the open floor in the middle of the chamber.

A circular hall, meant more for inspiring awe in visiting dignitaries than housing the members of council, who often preferred to discuss matters at an eatery down the road.

Modelled after the council chambers of earth, with rows of curved desks filling the room. The intent meant to leave visitors with the impression that no matter how many of the council they had an audience with, they were in fact only witnessing a fraction of the city’s political structure.

The members seated on a platform raised half a metre above ground level, resulting in anyone in attendance having to look up to them while they conversed. An intimidation tactic.

Logic would suggest that a more diplomatic environment would have brought greater advantages during talks, but upon arriving, Jeremy and those like him, quickly learnt that being friendly with the locals would soon lead you down the path of victimisation. Not always intentional, but still…?

And that was just the commoners! The higher up the food chain you went, the more predatory they became.

As he walked forward, Jeremy saw two women seated at the table within the centre of the hall. One dressed in black, the colour of a servant’s uniform, the other, which should be the noble, was dressed in green with an ornate bonnet covering her head. Peculiar, as the current practice for high-born when visiting the city was to display their status with purple clothing, the dye not hard to come by but made expensive for its symbolic value, and to present themselves sans hat, to show that they had no fear or some such rubbish.

He veered to the side as he approached, the parties present forming an unseen triangle as he did so.

“The council welcomes Mr Jeremy Chase of the Department of Sumonee Integration.”

“Honoured members of the council.” He returned.

He was then addressed by Alex Young, a blond-haired man, who was a long-standing member of the Elementalist's union before his election, and current representative of the moderate factions within the city

“You have something to tell us, Mr Chase?”

Jeremy didn’t know how to proceed, neither he nor the kid new the circumstances of last night’s incident, and the intricacies of the local’s political games meant that she could still be an enemy even if she were to have been saved by Mr. Goodwill’s actions.

He opted for a neutral stance, “I’ve come to report an incident between a sumonee and an unknown local, councilman Young.”

“Our lady of the Seven Rivers here, says she was accosted by her sibling over an internal matter, then a boy came up through the sewers and poisoned her brother, saving her in the process. Is this correct Mr Chase?”

“It is, councilman Young.”

“And where is the boy now”

“In hiding.”

In Truth, he was at the sumonees halfway house on Baker and Long, but there was no need to mention that. The council wouldn’t have just handed him over, but there was no need to put them on the spot until he knew which way this situation was going to go.

“Now…” Mr Young started, “…where do we go from here?” he addressed the woman in black.

“Honoured…” the woman

“We’d like to get home today, Third Hand. speed it up.”

Jeremy thanked all the gods from here and earth for the councilman's bluntness, as the nobles of the land liked to use as many words as possible to say absolutely nothing. Primarily the titles and achievements of their households, which could extend these talks into hours. Even the most fanatical pacifist would contemplate genocide after having to hear ‘House of’ several times a minute for the better part of a day.

The woman appeared unfazed, as she continued.

Jeremy scrutinised her with his full attention. A true Third Hand would have considered the council's reactions before saying anything. He had no doubt as to her profession, he merely questioned her intent with feigning ignorance. Or did she intentionally antagonise them?

“As the incident last night was an internal affair, we do not hold the city responsible.”

She was trying to antagonise them! The locals knew that adventurers were essentially just mercenaries with a larger skill set. If they tried to hold the city responsible, then every House that employed a mercenary company would potentially be held to the same account. What was she, or her mistress rather, after?

“First the boy. The House of Seven Rivers always repays its debts, and my mistress owes him much.”

“Well, I’m sure you and Mr. Chase can discuss such matters without the need of the council, may we move on…”

“No, councilman, the House of Seven Rivers always repays its debts, and there were two members of my lady’s household present last night.”

Jeremy stiffened.

“You would reward him, but your brother would seek revenge.” stated MR. Young. “And you would let him, I take it?”

“The child may have saved my Lady, but his reasons were due to circumstance rather than specific intent. And in doing so, he poisoned one of our household.”

Jeremy wanted to jump in and declare the boy’s actions as justified, but the boy’s grasp of the local language was minimal at best, his assessment of what happened may have been completely off the mark. Attacking someone because they looked at you funny was generally not the best way to argue self-defence.

“However…” the woman continued, “…if we deem him to be of an acceptable morality, we shall offer him service within our household.”

“You would save him by enslaving him?” one of the other council members exclaimed.

Before the woman could respond, Mr Young interceded.

“Let us leave argument over morality for another day, please. The decision to accept or not is ultimately up to the boy to decide.”

As loathe as he was to admit it, Jeremy would have to agree. Signing the contract was probably the easiest way to get him out of this mess.

“Such matters will have to wait until we can properly discuss them with the boy in question.” Said MR. Young. “So, can we move on to the second order of business?”

The woman nodded her head before collecting herself.

“We would seek a trade agreement with this city.”

All in the room froze.

Given all the forms of magic available, there was no such thing as privacy within this city, let alone this building, and making such a declaration in public was akin to declaring war on their own people.

Jeremy stared at the council, who seemed more shocked than he was.

“Clear the room!”, Mr Young bellowed.