The meeting of the extended council, including the members of the government and the field team, took place in the throne room. Since the furniture only consisted of the throne, the mission planning table and a large banner bearing Nightvale's coat of arms, the participants had to remain standing. That usually motivated Guelder to keep it short.

Hazel didn't mind standing. A self-appointed bodyguard would look stupid sitting down. This meeting, however, started to feel quite lengthy.

Shifting their weight, Hazel found themself fidgeting with the pair of glasses they kept in a pocket of their cloak: a keepsake from their former employer, Professor Jubilost Narthropple, which had miraculously survived its owner. The field team had found the professor's campsite at the ford of the river Skunk, but alas, they'd arrived too late. The camp had been plundered and destroyed by a gang of kobolds, the travelling company massacred to the last gnome, and the professor himself trampled to death by his panicked ponies. Hazel couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. Had they stayed in the professor's employment, he would probably be still alive, to the benefit of science and to the detriment of the people around him.

Still, he was probably among the last victims of the trolls and kobolds wreaking havoc in the west of the country. The threat had been suppressed, not as much by Kassil's fledgling army patrolling the roads as by Guelder's courageous infiltration into Trobold, the joint troll—kobold capital set up in an abandoned dwarven fortress. Kassil had been gutted that he'd had no opportunity to try his hand at a proper siege (at which, in Hazel's opinion, he would have failed anyway, lacking the manpower and the technology), but now he was compensated by the task to restore Trobold into its former glory under its previous name, Bronzeshield Fortress. It would come in handy whenever the people of the Narlmarches needed a defendable refuge from encroaching enemies.

"I still don't think it was a good idea to let Tartuk go, Your Grace," said Kassil, hellbent on finding fault with Guelder's decisions.

"This was the right thing to do, Kassil. He has changed. He is not Tartuccio anymore. I have no idea how he was resurrected under the Old Sycamore and how his kobold shapeshift became his default state, but the experience transformed him. He was trying to do something good, even if his means were questionable. He strove to guide the trolls towards a more civilised way of life."

"With a meagre success, I should add," butted in Valerie. "There was one single troll who proved to be more or less susceptible."

"Which means Tartuk was onto something," retorted Guelder. "Alas, I do not have decades to wait until they all give up eating human flesh and raiding our villages, nor the resources to speed up the process. Now the troll king is dead, his people either slain or chased to the western border, where they would probably get themselves killed trying to pass through to Pitax or Glenebon. That is enough."

"I mean," insisted Kassil, "whatever he was before, now he is a kobold. He is going to find a dragon to offer his services to. Don't be surprised if you see him next time riding on the back of Ilthuliak, the ancient black dragon of Glenebon, showering destruction upon your lands and turning them into ashes."

Hazel sighed inside. Apparently, Kassil was something like a reverse kobold. His preoccupation with dragons was too serious to explain with the infamous defeat of the Aldori armies in the Valley of Fire two hundred years ago.

"We will cross that bridge when we get there, Kassil," said the baroness. "If we ever do."

Wisely, Guelder remained tight-lipped about how she'd forced the kobold king to disclose the nature of the artifact he'd stolen from the Old Sycamore. As it turned out, the coveted object had been a piece of wood, about the length of a human practice sword. This was the truth Tartuk (or Tartuccio) had given to Guelder in exchange for his life. Hazel was entirely certain that the baroness had been fooled, and wondered how she could still feel good about letting the purple-scaled scoundrel go. However, that was not something to be aired at a meeting of the extended council. They already had given her a piece of their mind, anyway.

Next, Guelder introduced Ekundayo, her recently recruited second ranger, who'd lost his family in the troll troubles and had been instrumental in the fight for Trobold. The dark-skinned man stood motionless in the shadow of a pillar, his hood pulled down on his face, his wolf companion (temporarily named Dog, for lack of a better idea) resting at his feet. He apparently didn't even realise the baroness was talking about him.

As it turned out, Ekundayo was also a skilled carpenter, which set the tiny cogwheels in Hazel's brain into motion. Creative physical work was said to be greatly effective in helping grief-smitten people recover. Perhaps, with a little nudge and a workshop in the capital, this broken man could take his first steps on the path of healing and, as a pleasant side effect, the palace would have chairs for future meetings like this one. Hazel made a mental note to point Guelder in this direction later on.

The next point of the agenda was Oleg's trading post. The ambiguity around the affiliation of the settlement had finally been sorted out. Guelder had contacted Lady Jamandi about clearing up the issue and, consequently, deciding on questions of taxation and development expenses. After a little tug-of-war, now Restov waived its claim on the place, leaving Guelder to her own devices regarding the development plans as well as the construction of a road between the trading post and Tuskdale, and forbidding her from collecting duties on the goods passing through the place on the South Rostland Road.

From the tension in the baroness's shoulders, Hazel could tell she was about to raise a tough question.

Their suspicion proved to be correct.

"We still have no candidate to the Treasurer's position," said Guelder. "To be honest, I have had enough of carrying the ledger on my adventures and struggling to get the numbers right in my downtime, losing out on precious hours of rest. I was considering to offer the position to a wandering merchant named Dalton, whom we rescued from the trolls. It would have been a nice way for him to return the favour, but alas, he never showed up in Tuskdale. Anyway, we shall not leave this meeting until the government has a Treasurer. I am not going to force anyone, but I expect all of you to recognise the necessity of finding a solution, if only a temporary one."

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"Perhaps it was a mistake to alienate Bartholomew Delgado over a filthy troll, of all things," remarked the Regent.

Here we go again, thought Hazel. They couldn't grasp how Valerie, a pillar of law and order in Nightvale, could support someone who'd purchased a troll for gold and used him as a lab rat. Slavery was outlawed in the entire area of the River Kingdoms. That was the exact reason why Regongar and Octavia, and many other fugitive slaves, had sought refuge here.

"Do not start this again, Valerie," snapped the baroness, her voice laced with anger. "I do not care if that wizard is the financial genius of the century, able to turn organic waste into gold. People who experiment on other sentient beings without their consent have no place in my government. Or in my land, for that matter."

"Well said, well said!" enthused Octavia, bouncing on her heels.

"How about you, Octavia?" suggested Valerie with a smirk. "Or Regongar? Perhaps some responsibility would do you good. You could experience being in charge. It would help you grow up and finally act like adults."

"Ideally," remarked Jhod Kavken, "future state officials should grow up before they fill in important functions. But I can see why that's not always an option."

"No, thanks," said Regongar with his usual toothy grin. "I'm not even good at counting whiplashes. I sort of lose track after eleventy-nine or so."

"Same here," chimed in Octavia, simpering innocently. "I suggest you ask Linzi. She is so great at multitasking!"

"NO!" snapped the baroness. "Linzi is not allowed near the coffers under any circumstances."

Linzi, sitting on the floor and scribbling into her book, froze in place, and her face became a shade of red that even Tristian couldn't compete with. She stared at the baroness with big, tearful puppy eyes, frightened, guilty and sad at the same time.

"It is too dangerous," added Guelder with some hesitation, "considering her tendency to get herself locked up in chests."

The awkwardness of the moment was dissolved in laughter, yet Hazel couldn't help but wonder if there had been something shady about Linzi's recent purchase of a printing machine. And they could tell that Jaethal, too, stored the new information in her brain for later use.

"Let us get to the point," said Guelder. "Is there anyone presently not holding an office who is willing to give it a go? Or even those who do hold an office? I am open to rearrangements in order to fill in all the roles in the government."

The silence was growing uncomfortable.

Hazel felt a strange white mist alight on their brain. They knew this well. A moment of incredible clarity about what to do and an urge to do it immediately, later on usually followed by bitter regrets. Yet, if they could take a burden off their beloved friend's shoulder, that was worth the price to be paid.

"I am up for it," they said.

Incredulous voices came from the audience.

"Even if this youngster is old enough to know their numbers," said Jaethal, turning to the baroness, "are you sure you want a mercenary in such a sensitive position?"

"Who says a mercenary cannot make a decent Treasurer?" retorted Hazel with a self-assured smile. It definitely took guts to smile at Jaethal, but Hazel felt confident today. And people able to smile at a creepy undead inquisitor were hard to break in price negotiations.

"If you were so good at finances, child, you would not live by your bow," said Jaethal sharply.

"Which is quite a remarkable piece, by the way," muttered the High Priest in awe, completely enchanted by the Devourer of Metal, Hazel’s new weapon looted from the trolls. Ekundayo had refused to keep it. It only reminded him of his loss.

"Sorry," said Jhod, tearing his gaze away from the bow. "Back to the point. Is there any other candidate? If not, why are we wasting time on empty objections?"

"How about experience?" said Valerie, ignoring the High Priest. "This position requires more than being… um… close to Her Grace."

Hazel kept a deadpan face at the pointed remark. It had been clear from the first moment that the Regent was a sworn enemy of any workplace romance. However, they were not keen on explaining themself. It only took a single question to learn what Guelder's attitude was to romance and carnal pleasures. Whoever couldn't be bothered to ask that question was not entitled to be taken seriously on the topic.

"I have no active experience as yet," they said, "but I am good at learning from observation, and I had ample opportunity to do just that under my late employer. I would not state that I became proficient in Professor Narthropple's each and every field of expertise, but I did pick up some knowledge in accounting and cartography, and I am ready to offer this knowledge for the good of Nightvale. If Her Grace finds someone more suited to the task, I will be ready to step down and let them shine in my stead. Until that happens, I would be honoured if you gave me a chance."

"Then, Hazel," said the baroness, suppressing a sigh of relief, "I accept your offer with thanks. I expect all of you to support our new Treasurer during their onboarding time, just as I will. Together, we will make sure that they overcome the initial hurdles in their office and learn the ropes quickly. Make us proud, my friend."

Hazel left the meeting content with a job well done. Now that the trolls and kobolds were out of the way, and the budget was (hopefully) in safe hands, Guelder could officially expand her sway to the entire Narlmarches, a treacherous land of swamps and forests, with Hazel by her side to update the old maps she'd been using so far. Their shared adventures could now continue in a more lighthearted manner, with the ledger in the new Treasurer's backpack.

They made a mental note to borrow Guelder's copy of Bookkeeping for Dummies, just in case.