First demonstrated in 1698, the steam engine was initially dismissed as a curiosity due to concerns over fuel requirements. However, with the later introduction of the Magicoal refinement process, the potential for widespread commercial use was finally discovered. This would later lead to...

-Excerpt from "History of the modern era", by [Magus] Boigues

The city of Palogne was situated on a low ridge between two rivers, just a bit upstream of their intersection. It was a changing city—little remained of the trading hub that had been there just 50 years ago. Houses spread out haphazardly from the more orderly city centre, and the huge factory district was full of pipes billowing out thick, black smoke.

Fayette grimaced as the errant wind brought some of the smoke to their descending blimp. The smoke stung her eyes and sent her into a coughing fit.

“I swear this place wasn’t quite this bad the last time I visited; it’s only been a year!” she managed to say in the midst of her coughing. She waved the smoke away from in front of her face and cast a hateful glare at the factories responsible. “Shouldn’t someone be in charge of cleaning this stuff out? What kind of person just lets their grime float away?”

Mireille walked beside her, holding a handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth. “I imagine it would be very convenient if all trash just floated away. Wouldn’t that make a [Maid’s] work easier? You could just toss everything out the window.”

Fayette looked at her friend, exasperated. “You are thinking very short-term here. It's like when you clear old, decrepit furniture to the attic. It’s not like that stuff is going to just disappear, right? It's still up there; some poor [Maid] is going to have to deal with it eventually.”

Mireille was staring at Fayette as if she was a whole new human being. “I honestly didn’t know you put that much thought into this stuff.”

Fayette glared at her “Hey, I’m not a [Maid] for nothing alright? I trust your judgement related to clothing things, so you should trust me with cleaning things.”

Mireille quirked an eyebrow. “You trust me with clothes? Didn’t you just go on a whole spiel against me with your whole [Maid] outfit obsession?”

“That’s different; a [Maid’s] work uniform is a [Maid’s] business. I doubt others would understand.”

Mireille shook her head and turned back to the city “Ah, whatever. I won’t argue this further. Still, this is not quite how I imagined the grand city of Palogne to look.” Mireille said, enunciating those last words mockingly. “Quite different from the paintings and stories.”

“Well, we’ll be landing soon enough. You’ll get a much closer look. Trust me, the smoke is only the beginning.”

Soon enough the pair had landed at the airship docks and got the pleasure of dealing with customs. It was a bothersome process, but not arduous. Their class licences were in order after all. Soon they were walking to the city proper. The airship docks were at the edge of the old quarter, so the initial impression of the city was of grandness. Picturesque stone buildings were lined with elaborate engravings. Streets were busy with rushing carriages and smartly-dressed pedestrians.

Mireille looked at the buildings curiously. The stone was distinctly blackened, giving the district a gloomy feel. “I think I’ve seen a painting of this very crossing back at the orphanage. Shouldn’t all this stone be grey?”

“You can thank those for that.” Fayette answered, pointing at the stacks of rising smoke. “I think they clean up the facades every now and then. Or at least they used to. C’mon, let's move.”

The [Seamstress] seemed a bit out of it as she followed Fayette. The streets were crowded—they had to squeeze between [Street Peddlers] and pedestrians. Quite different from the sparse countryside.

“It is quite something, isn’t it?” Fayette said, with just a twinge of smugness. A country gal like Mireille, of course the big city would be a bit much for her. Do not worry, for your big sister is here to help.

Mireille seemed to sense the internal gloating, at least based on the sceptical gaze she gave to the [Maid]. “So, you’ve been here before, right? Where to? Securing lodgings is our first order, right?”

“Well, we can of course go to the usual place. We’ll just have to head this way and we’ll soon be at the grand hotel Bella Ri—” Fayette suddenly stopped, right in the middle of turning to the street.

“The grand hotel what? It sounds like a lovely place. Shan’t we go?” Mireille asked with an innocent voice.

Fayette coughed awkwardly. “W-well... It might be just a tad outside our budget range.” She turned away from Mirelle, suddenly deeply interested in studying an elaborate stone fountain. “I was part of the [Lord’s] procession the last time I visited... So, you know, the establishment I was at last may not really work.”

Mireille laughed. “I was expecting something like this. Well, nothing to it; let's go search for a good inn. Do you have any leads?”

“Not really, but this district is definitely too expensive. We’ll want to head down to the [Worker] district.”

Getting out of the old district wasn’t a long walk, as though the old district was grand, it was also small and dense. It was a quick change; one you could almost feel in the atmosphere of the place. Or maybe it was just the smell. Stone was replaced with red brick, and the streets got even less clean. Ragged people started lining the streets, trying to peddle wares or services.

“I’m a level 8 [Apprentice Blacksmith]! I can sharpen your knives for a good price!”

“Level 14 [Seamstress] here, clothes need any mending? You’ll get it cheap!”

These were but a few cries among many—the sides of the streets were absolutely packed. Some were managing to make deals with the passer-by’s, but many more were left hanging.

Fayette felt her eye twitching wherever she looked, the whole place was sending jitters down her spine. Just the smell was enough to annoy her, but what got to her more was the general disorder. A proper household was in order. This place however... One could hardly expect a disorderly realm to have an orderly [Lord].

Where are the [Maids]—is nobody sweeping the streets? There weren’t this many beggars last time. Is the [Lord] of this place a complete incompetent buffoon?

She almost felt an urge to pull out her broom and start cleaning the streets personally, but she held back. Other matters came first.

“Doesn’t seem too promising...” Mireille said, eyeing the crowds with calculation.

“It wasn’t this bad last time; I wonder what’s changed?” Fayette responded.

“We really are lacking up to date information,” Mireille said thoughtfully. She ran her eyes by the street and noticed a newspaper hawker. “Just a moment, I’ll go buy us a newspaper.”

She ran off, and a moment later was back, newspaper in hand. “Let’s see here...” She mumbled as she scanned the headlines. “Unrest in colonies: Tea shipment destroyed, Tax hikes necessary to deal with growing debt, War with Burgundy at an end, Church assures that class change processes will be sped up—”

“Wait a minute.” Fayette interrupted. “We were at war? And now it’s over?”

Mireille went back to the headline in question. “Doesn’t seem to be anything too major. Some minor skirmish maybe? It says a few towns are now ‘in our rightful hands’, but not much more than that.”

“Huh, strange. Hard to imagine that some parts of this country are at war with how things are here.”

Mireille eyed the beggars lining the streets. “I’m not so sure about that...”

Now in a more affordable district, the two started looking for a proper inn. They however soon ran into an issue. They wanted to have a proper, cleansing bathing session after their journey, but inns with bathing facilities were a lot more expensive, even here.

Fayette would have been fine with paying the fare, but Mireille was strongly opposed. The [Seamstress] made a strong argument—why not just save the money and go to the public baths instead?

Fayette agreed it was a good plan, so they set off.

It was a bit of a walk to the nearest public baths, they had to walk quite a bit closer to the northern riverside. The northern river was adjacent to the [Worker] district, while the southern river hugged the old one. They soon found a promising place, and headed in.

It was a nice establishment, with a combination of sauna rooms and heated bathing pools. The two paid the entry fee, then spent a good amount of time lazing about, getting rid of the strain of the journey. It was nice to take a bath after a long journey.

The sun was starting to set by the time they were out. Mireille stretched her limbs lazily as she walked back to the streets, skin still letting off some steam into the air. “Ah, that really did hit the spot. Let’s head back to that one inn we marked, shame it’s a bit of a walk back there.”

Fayette looked at the side streets thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure I passed around here on some errands quite a bit on my last visit. Going through these side-streets should be a bit of a shortcut.”

“Really? They seem a bit sketchy to me.”

“Bah, that’s just what the city is like, you know? Do you really want to walk the long way?”

“... You’re right. Alright, let's take your route.”

Fayette took the lead and began weaving through the streets confidently. The crowds gradually got thinner, the vagrants shabbier, and the buildings dirtier. Mireille was groggily following Fayette, dazed from the warmth of the bath, but soon started having doubts.

“Fay? You do know where you are going, right? I think the streets have been going a bit to the right for a while now, haven’t they?”

Fayette stopped, and looked back. “I’ll be honest, I have had no idea where we have been for the last five-or-so blocks.”

“What? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well, I’m saying something now, aren’t I? I was still holding out hope.”

Mireille groaned, and looked at the street crossing they were standing in. “Alright, I think if we head to the left from here, we should get back to the bigger streets.”

Fayette nodded, but before the pair could leave the crossing, they were interrupted by a gruff voice.

“Excuse me misses, it’s not good to be lost in streets like this.”

A shabby man dressed in rags walked out from around a corner, dragging a wooden club behind him. Everything about him was filthy, except for his shiny bald head.

Another man followed him, wearing a bizarrely clean tophat, which made for a strong contrast against his tattered tunic. The man grinned, revealing teeth like a broken piano, and held up his own club.

“Don’t worry ladies, we’ll escort you. Don’t know what disreputable folk are around these streets.”

Fayette flinched back from the stench the two men were emanating and felt at the broom in her [Bag of Holding]. The clubs they were holding at her and their threatening poses told enough. Gah, I knew these streets were in disorder, but this? A [Maid] really has to do everything herself.