The pattern for the head office of the Well of Wonders’ Danmer branch was a complex one, and it took Grey’s assistant two minutes of swift angular swiping tracing all around the small white room to access it. Grey had never needed to memorise the pattern himself - he had people for that - but had to commend his assistant for their memory. He made a mental note to find out what her name was.

When the lights faded and the doors opened, he was met with a luxurious suite that could hardly be called an office. It resembled more of a museum - there were elven artifacts and machina all along the walls, contained in glass cabinets with small holographic signs floating nearby detailing the given name, function, and value of each piece. One nearby caught his eye - Sunreaver, blessed blade of the Moon God. The mana content of it was impressive, if the sign was to be believed. There hadn’t been a moon god in centuries, so it must be fairly old. Grey would have to take everything here with a grain of salt, though. This office was as much of an emporium as the ones on street level. If he showed his interest in any of the objects here he was certain that Marcus would try to use it to gain favors that were not in Grey or Brimstone’s interests.

Amongst the glass cabinets were a few small golems busying about. Their design favoured form over function, and utilised a lot of delicate brass pieces and exposed crystal. They were obviously very sophisticated, though, and as much of a power play as the artifacts were. One was sorting papers on Marcus’ desk, and the other was pouring out two glasses of a dark amber liquid from an elaborate crystal decanter.

Marcus was sitting behind the large mahogany desk, bent over a stone tablet that he was scratching at with delicate looking tools. He didn’t look up as Grey walked up and sat across from him, so Grey took the chance to see what he was working on. Runework had never been his strong suit, but he could make out some of the key elements - ice, a stabilizing array, concentric circles that could be a contact marker, and a few ambient mana distillation sequences.

“Any guesses?” mumbled Marcus, who looked up at Grey for the first time. His eyes were comically large, magnified by the goggles he was wearing.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like a step-triggered ice trap, nonlethal and mana efficient enough to be left out in the field for long periods of time.”

Marcus chortled. “Such a Brimstone thing to say. Not everything needs to be judged in combat potential, you know. But since you do know better, what is your actual guess?”

Grey picked up his glass from the table and paced it on the carving. As soon as the glass made contact, the drink inside froze instantly to a block of yellow ice. “Needs adjusting.” Grey smirked.

Marcus sighed. “That was Dwarven Fire Whisky. Not easy to come by in this part of the world.”

“I don’t drink during business meetings anyway.”

“Yes, I suppose we should get on with it, shouldn’t we. Horizon.”

“Indeed. I’m assuming you have more to say than was in your message.”

Marcus, took off his goggles and stood up, walking to the window at the back of the office as he spoke.

“Well, as you know, the balance between the Three has always been tenuous…”

Grey shot his assistant a look to make sure they were writing this down. It seemed they were getting distracted by the golems. To think he was about to learn their name, too.

“However recently Horizon has been crossing into areas that shall we say… overreach. Reports are that they’re looking to establish branches in the Scarlet Woods in return for some of the more elusive Elven spells. Great news, by all accounts. However in return they want assurances that Brimstone will stop looting their ruins and Well of Wonders returns some artifacts in our care. My people at Horizon are saying that they are preparing a proposal for us by the end of the week. One very much in their favour.”

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“Doesn’t seem as bad as I thought.” Grey mused. “We’d just need to increase what we’re asking for.”

Marcus turned away from the window to face Grey. The sun shining through the gaps in the buildings across the street cast him in a silhouette, framing his greying curled hair and shining through the gaps in his prosthetic leg. Grey could see the fluids stored within colour the sunlight red.

“Don’t be a fool, Grey. The spells they could share with us are valuable, yes, but there’s a reason they’re willing to spare those to get the artefacts back. My teams have been trying to figure out how they work for decades, but have only scratched the surface. The Elves wouldn’t want them back so badly if there wasn’t more to learn from them. Not to mention those left lying in forgotten tombs and dungeons.”

“Of course that’s your priority, Marc. But I fail to see how making new gadgets and gizmos with some old Elven technology has to do with Brimstone’s interests.”

Grey nodded to one of the golems, who picked up a binder from one of the bookshelves behind the desk and placed it on the desk. Grey flipped through it to find countless pages tracking local magical beasts, rogue mages, magical hazards, Brimstone recruitment numbers…

“You’ve been doing a great job defending the city, Grey.” Marcus said. “Perhaps too good a job. Tell me, should peace be made with the Elves, how would Brimstone justify its costs? There hasn’t been a civilian death to goblins or undead in years. Mana Shield is being taught to children at school. You’ve cleared out all of the dens of dangerous flora and fauna for miles in training your new recruits. If you weren’t fighting the Elves, you’d be out of business and we both know it. This should concern you more than it does me. I’d lose a few lucrative armour and evoker contracts with you, sure. Missing out on the secrets of the ancient Elven technology would severely reduce the rate at which we can grow. But people still need brooms, or household appliances, or drink coolers.” He tapped his finger on the stone slab with the frozen drink on it.

Grey couldn’t disagree. The battle in the forest was at somewhat of a stalemate. Elves didn’t build cities, so there wasn’t really a place to capture. They couldn’t build fortifications, as their strange druidic magic made the forest itself hostile against them. Even traversing the woods deeper than a mile or so required specialised navigational equipment. But Brimstone had by far the superior firepower. The Elves couldn’t do more than nip at them for fear of their highly trained, coordinated artillery mages raining down hell upon their position. As a result, they had a constant influx of new recruits coming in to seek fame and fortune. A team of mages who successfully recover an Elven artifact are very generously compensated, and most recruits join looking for their “big break” before retiring on the reward money. The money that the recruits pay for their training, equipment, and membership was most of what kept Brimstone afloat. Without that…

“Okay, I can see your point. What needs to be done?” said Grey after a long pause.

“First of all, we need to refuse whatever Horizon brings to us. They benefit the most here from the rights to the spells and the ability to open up trade and travel with the Woods, so they’ll probably put up a fight about it.”

“That’s a given. But you know what I meant.”

“Yes. I’m not sure when Horizon and the druids became so friendly, but that needs to end too. Think you can take care of that? Of course, I’ll provide whatever equipment you need.”

Grey grimaced. He went into this line of work for the direct kinds of combat. He wasn’t a fan of all this subterfuge. But these were desperate times.

“I’ll take care of it.” Grey said, standing to leave.

“Wonderful. I’ll be in touch, then.” Marcus sat back down at his desk and picked up his carving tools.

Grey made his way to the teleporter room, mulling over what Marcus had said. He was absolutely right on one thing - Brimstone was too reliant on the conflict in the Scarlet Woods. If there were no other sufficient sources of threat available, then they needed to diversify a bit.

His assistant input another complex pattern onto the wall, and he was ported directly to his own office. It was far less ostentatious than the one he came from, with a flattened stone serving as a desk, a pair of leather armchairs by a roaring fireplace, and a rugged looking golem that served as a training dummy. Grey sat in one of the armchairs by the fire and held his hand out to his assistant for the notes. He flicked through them as he thought, barely reading the words. After a few moments he realised the assistant was still hovering around nearby.

“Oh, that will be all. Report to have your memory wiped before you go home.”

To her credit, she did a great job at hiding her disappointment before heading to the exit, leaving Grey alone to plan.