It wasn't a precise plan that entered Len's mind as she started out on her jaunt with Keris. She had a general idea what she wanted to do with herself, sure, but that sort of thing barely qualified as an idea, let alone a concept. Nowhere near the territory of being a full fledged plan. Basically, she'd spent a good amount of time to date observing the city via reports rather than actually experiencing it. She'd spent most of the time not dedicated to being holed up inside the offices doing nothing but enjoying the food courts. Not exactly the activities of one getting a deep and abiding understanding of the city in which she lived and governed. Granted, the last time she'd gone out exploring Keris had been trying to kill her, so there was some justifiable hesitancy on her part to wander. Still, it wouldn't do to let petting things like attempted homicide get in the way of things, now would it?

Keris, for her part, didn't look terribly impressed with Len's goals. The woman was holding her peace though, so there was that. It was tough to say whether it was due to genuine contrition or simple fear of what might go wrong in her life if she screwed things up right now but she was surprisingly decent at the moment. Len still couldn't imagine wanting to spend time with her on anything other than official purposes, but it was interesting to consider what was going through the woman's head. The main problem, Len realized, was that she spent entirely too much time and energy trying to guess what was going on in peoples heads. It wasn't a completely wasted gesture, she acknowledged, but it was one that tended to eat up more time than it was worth. Better to leave that sort of nonsense to the mystics. What really set her mind on fire, though, was figuring out what to do with the world around her.

There was so much to this city that she felt she could lose herself if she allowed it. The arrangement of everything still blew her mind. The sheer amount of coordination that had to have gone into the process of getting each of these sleds into a perfect arrangement, stratified by class of course, that all exploded outward from the core of the city. This was a level of planning that she hadn't been used to in her world, for all that there had theoretically been more technology on hand. She made a mental note to ask someone about it eventually, but didn't feel like having that conversation with Keris herself, better to hide her awe lest she give the woman room to dig a barb in.

"All right, Lenore, care to tell me what you're planning?" Keris finally decided she'd had enough stalling without any useful explanation.

Len offered the woman a playful smirk to indicate that she'd won some meaningless point by making her ask. The woman stared back, implacable.

"Simple, I want to talk to the guards and see why they are in such desperate need of funds so constantly. You can't expect me to believe that there aren't people busting down the doors to get access to a position of authority that lets them lord over others without any real consequence?"

"What are you talking about," Keris seemed truly confused at Len's reaction. "Of course they're held accountable. Few things are a faster route to Banishment than failing to uphold the laws of the land properly, or passing an unjust judgment on the spot."

"Heh, sure it is. You don't honestly expect me to believe that nonsense when they were just an arm of the former Head, do you?"

"You misunderstand something," Keris said. Oddly, there was no real offense in her voice, rather a simple offering of information. "The city guard are one of the few forces on hand that are held in highest esteem. For all that the last Head had managed to get most every other aspect of the city under his thumb, the city guard are above reproach. The Silver Sentinels, on the other hand, they WERE just another tool in the Head's belt. They got away with literal murder at all times by virtue of their affiliation."

"You have two police forces? How's that work?"

"The Guard manage the streets, they get to handle the basic work of investigating crimes, meting out punishment, facing the consequences of those choices. It's a prestigious position, but one that bears a heavy responsibility that cannot be shirked. The Silver Sentinels, on the other hand, are mercenaries that work for whoever has the coin."

"How does that track with them being able to have free reign in the Guard's territory."

"That came down to the Head's authority. He couldn't abolish the Guard, much as he might have wished, but he was able to grant an equal level of power to the Sentinels. As a result, the Guard can't directly interfere with the actions of the Sentinels, but the Sentinels can't directly interfere in the actions of the Guard."

"That's a mess. Seems like someone should have told me to abolish the power the Sentinels have."

"It's not quite that simple, I'm afraid."

"Of course it isn't."

"Contracts with the Head are binding, they don't expire when the leader does. It's long been tradition. The Sentinels have a contract that extends for another year and a half. Their privileges are ironclad as long as it remains in effect."

"That's absurd. I thought I had total control."

"Total control isn't a thing that exists, I'd think you'd know that."

"Well, if that's the case, what do you recommend?"

"Personally, I recommend you ignore them entirely. They can cause a great deal of harm, it's true, but after their contract is up you can be rid of them in any manner you see fit."

"Why don't I just rip up the contract and say to hell with the consequences?"

"You could do that, theoretically, though I'm not sure you could weather the immediate revolt you'd get from a pack of rampaging dogs drunk on power. The problem is what comes after that."

"Right," Len muttered. "Instant destruction of faith in my ability to maintain other contracts. General distrust mounting as I deal with the fact that I'm already on razor-thin ice due to the fact that I'm a Dark Elf that's managed to take over the city in one fell swoop. Fear, shrieks, challenges from assholes who think they'll be able to do a better job than I can. Huh, there's a thought."

"What's that?"

"Oh, I just kinda figured that, given the whole Challenge culture you guys seem so fond of, it seems like I should be swarmed with people wanting my head by now."

"You're fortunate on that front. They can't for at least a year."

"Why a year?"

"Precisely the reason you'd expect. If a new Head could be Challenged the instant they take the throne, there'd be nothing stopping us from having round the clock challenges. No leadership could possibly be done. Under normal conditions, that is: the conditions in place before the last Head gained power, every year would host a massive tournament to contest the throne. The winner would get the right and the challenge would take place."

"That's... relatively disciplined compared to what I saw."

"Yes, well, a lot of things changed when the Head took over. It wasn't all at once, but he managed to get his people into positions of authority, into the refereeing, into the challenges. Before long it was essentially impossible for anyone to get to the point where they could legitimately challenge him."

"So you're saying that the only way he could have even faced a challenge was by initiating it himself?"

"Pretty much. It's not that it would have been TOTALLY impossible to do it another way, it's just that your odds of pulling it off would be next to nonexistant. You'd have had to so thoroughly dominate every step of the competition that no one could find a loophole to give the victory to another."

"Yeah, that sounds depressingly familiar," Len muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, nothing. Just reminiscing about... well, not happier times, but different ones."

"I... see," said Keris, clearly not.

"Whatever. So that's good news, at least. A whole year where the only way I face a challenge is if I issue it myself. Can't say I see myself doing that so at least that's one thing off my plate. Doesn't change the problem with the Guards and the Sentinels, though. Don't suppose you know the exact terms of their contract, do you?"

"Not really. I know that they get to wander the city pretty much unimpeded, they can round up anyone they feel is being "suspicious" as they choose to define it, and they mostly don't answer to anyone. Theoretically they answer to you, but I wouldn't expect much obedience unless you wring it from them mercilessly."

"What fun. I guess we'll have to look over that contract later. For now, I want to see the Guards.

The Guards, unlike most of what she'd seen, were a fairly modest group. She'd made note of their small numbers in the past, and had been unimpressed. For all that Keris seemed to think that they were a cut above and generally beyond reproach, a cop was pretty much a cop, and usually was looking out for themselves before they even considered any of that 'protect and serve' bollocks that everyone advertised. Still, it wouldn't do to go into this with a completely closed mind. Better to give them an opportunity to disappoint rather than actively destroying any chance a t a good relationship before she started.

The primary sled that served as the headquarters of the Guard was on the outer ring of the city. Len had assumed that it would be the opposite, but had been quickly disabused of that notion. Apparently it was a longstanding tradition that went back dozens of generations. The Guard was there to do just that, and the most critical function of it all was remaining a part of the 'lowest' ranks of society. It was an interesting thought that Len didn't really buy into, but at least it was more respectable than the gaudy mansion the Sentinels called a base.

"Greetings, Head," said the man at the front of the sled. Actually, Len realized, 'Man' was a bit generous. It was a boy, couldn't have been older than 14. Technically into puberty and all that, but hardly the sort that should be manning a post. She paused and reminded herself that this wasn't her world and she couldn't pretend that all the standards that she was used to applied here.

"Err... greetings, Guardsman. I'm here to talk to whoever's in charge here."

"At once," the boy said with a reasonably adorable eagerness. He dashed inside while his partner, a man in his thirties, looked over his shoulder with a wry grin.

"Heh, don't mind the lad," he said. "Couldn't even manage a proper greeting. Speaking of witch..."

The man drew himself up to a full attention, clashed his fist against his breast in a gesture that would have probably been more impressive if he'd been wearing metal armor rather than simple leathers, and barked out an official-sounding welcome.

"Greetings, Most Honored Head, Champion of the Pits, Unparalleled Warrior and Sole Sovereign of the Kelvach! I, Narem Veknari do prostrate myself before you!"

Len stared at the man, mouth actually agape.

"What the hell was that nonsense?" she asked in mortified confusion.

"The official greeting that's been in place for the past eight years," the man said in a pained voice. "If you want to earn my undying loyalty, I'd happily offer it in exchange for being rid of it. No, seriously, that's the only thing I ask for in this world."

"You're pretty cheap with your offers of undying loyalty," Len observed.

"Look, I've had to say that damn spiel 748 times in my life and I would very much like to have it never reach 749."

"You're refreshingly honest, Narem."

"Well, it's not like I have anything to lose in the asking, am I right?"

"From everything I've come to understand of this place, you actually have quite a lot that you could lose."

"Oh, sure, if you were that kind of person."

"How do you know that I'm not?"

"I could give you some rot about how your eyes are too pure for that level of villainy, but we both know that the eyes can lie as much as anything else. No, I've got two reasons for knowing it. First: I saw your fight. You've got no time for the formalities and just care about getting stuff done. Mostly, though, it's because Balar has told me all about you, Lady Wraithwhisper. It really is a pleasure to meet you."