Remicra, her lithe form encased in Bakelite, emerged through the portal with a dignified grace. Her Bakelite armor, adorned with flowers and trimmed foliage from the lush gardens of Rimzadria Estate, seemed to breathe with the pulse of the park she had left behind.

Dave patiently awaited her arrival, seated in a spacious tent, its canvas walls gently undulating with the whispering breeze.

As the dragoness stepped further into her new surroundings, her keen eyes surveyed the sparsely decorated tent. The portal behind her snapped shut, severing the connection to the new workshop she had to suddenly leave behind due to unfortunate circumstances of being hunted down by her owner.

"Where are we?" She asked, orange-red tones of mild perturbation dancing on her scales.

Instead of replying, Dave seized her armored hand and ushered her out of the tent. Remicra blinked in astonishment as her gaze fell upon a scene of incomparable beauty: an idyllic lake nestled in the embrace of majestic mountains, its pristine waters caressed by the pine forest. Scattered across the lake, verdant islands basked in the sun, their shadows dappling the water's surface.

Remicra's eyes were drawn to the trees in the middle of the lake, her jaw slowly dropping in awe.

"Are those..."

"Metal trees," Dave confirmed, his voice muffled by the plastic helmet that concealed his face, leaving only his cerulean eyes visible behind glass lenses.

The blacksmith's amazement washed over her like a tidal wave, her eyes widening. The distant metal trees stood tall and proud, metallic leaves shimmering in the sunlight like a thousand tiny mirrors.

Swarms of metal bugs swirled around the trees, their iridescent wings glinting with a kaleidoscope of colors, looking like a hurricane of beauty and death. The sight of nature and metal entwined so seamlessly filled the blacksmith's heart with awe, and for a fleeting moment, she forgot the turmoil that had led her to this sanctuary.

"Incredible," she breathed out.

Casting a nervous glance at the spiraling swarms, she asked, "They won't attack us, right?"

"They can't smell us under the armor covered in flowers," Dave assured her. "And since the armor is plastic, it doesn't seem to be of any interest to them either."

Remicra's gaze shifted to the azure-blue water of the lake. "Is that..."

"That's the final resting area of a Shandrian skyship," Dave nodded. "Likely swatted from the sky during the invasion led by Empress Nox."

The dragoness continued to stare at the water's surface, sensing presence of priceless magisteel beneath.

"A high level metal archmage died here," Dave said. "His skill must have taken control of a nest of dead bugs and dead trees killed by the crash. Over two centuries, it turned this place into a mostly underwater dungeon. Can you sense metal fish under the surface?"

"I... can," Remicra nodded. "There's lots of metal things underwater... not just fish. Something bigger. By the Gods... this place is absolutely packed with living metal!"

“Yep,” Dave nodded.

"There's arcane magisteel shards all over the ground too," she said. "I can feel their runes calling out to me!"

"There you go," Dave said "There's a small shovel in the tent. Dig them out carefully and slowly so as not to bother the swarms, have fun. Don't take the armor off. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Take your time, I should be fine here," the dragoness nodded warmly. "I..."

With a swift, graceful movement, Remicra wrapped Dave in a tight embrace. As she pulled him close, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the plastic armors that created a barrier between them.

“Thank you… for this place, for everything!” She whispered helmet to helmet.

Reluctantly, she released him, her eyes meeting his for a moment before she turned away to begin her work, her soul sensing the pull of the magisteel shards that lay hidden beneath the earth, waiting to be unearthed.

"Voicecast Waymancer Riska," Dave spoke into his voicecast ring as he stepped back into the tent and pulled the flap closed behind him.

. . .

Dave deposited his Bakelite armor into the growing heap of similar pieces that had begun to crowd the workshop. Having done that, he made his way to the caretaker's cottage and indulged in a refreshing shower under the water-harnessing rune. The cascade of droplets reinvigorated his senses, washing away the remnants of the day's exertions.

Emerging from the shower, Dave changed into a regal-looking black robe adorned with gold trim, its elegant design a testament to the exorbitant price he had paid to purchase it. He put fancy gold dark sunglasses over his eyes and a lush, stick-on, silver-black beard. In a few minutes he joined Cedez, who was looking quite resplendent in a fanciful black and silver dress.

The pair stood in front of the gates of Rimzadria Estate as they awaited the arrival of their esteemed guests, idly chatting with each other in English.

In about fifteen minutes, the once-empty space before the gates transformed into a bustling hub of activity, filled with the chatter and jostling of Watchmen in black uniforms with silver epaulettes.

Watchman Giron stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel as he strode with an air of authority. "Greetings, Lord Dave, Lady Astra," he said, his voice authoritative as his eyes darted to Dave's lush, fake beard. "I am Watchman Giron in charge of this operation. Per order of Justice Burkoff Leemsh, we are authorized to search Rimzadria Armory for the runaway blacksmith dragoness Remicra Ognemeskra."

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"Do you have a search warrant?" Cedez inquired as she stepped forward, positioning herself between the Officers and the estate.

"Yes. We are permitted one day of search." Giron unrolled a parchment and presented it to the dark vixen.

"Seems to be in order," Cedez murmured. "Now, before I let any of you fine Watchmen into our armory, I will have you all sign a contract."

"What contract?" Giron squinted at the foxgirl.

"Just a simple acknowledgment document," Cedez explained. "It states that you understand you're entering a weapon-testing facility belonging to Lord Dave Rim and that Rimzadria Armory will not be charged for any damage done to the health of your party and any extensive damages done to the old mansion standing behind us will be compensated by the City of Shandria."

With a flick of her wrist, Cedez handed Giron a contract parchment which he unfurled, his eyes darting over the words.

"Extensive damages... hrmmm," Giron commented.

"I'm afraid that line was imposed upon us by high Lord Nelvash," Cedez shrugged. "It cannot be modified or removed, as this property was leased from him by Lord Dave. You're welcome to appeal to Lord Nelvash about this matter. As you can see, his signature and stamp of High House is on the contract, confirming its authenticity. The old building is empty so there's not much to break except for the structure itself, doors, wards or lighting fixtures."

"Fine, fine," Giron muttered, clearly not willing to deal with so many Shandrian Lords. "We'll just be careful not to break any doors."

A stone-skinned woman with a single metal arm and a crown of crystals adorning her head, bore a stern expression as she shoved her way past the crowd of Watchmen. Giron, preoccupied with reading the magical contract Cedez had presented to him, paid no attention to Overseer Princess.

"What's the holdup, Watchman?" the gemkin hissed. "Bust down the gates and start searching!"

"Lady Princess," Giron glanced up at the irate gemkin, attempting to maintain his composure. "This is an arcane, Level 96 Ward, a high Lord's Estate. It will take my men an hour to pierce, if not longer."

The corners of the Overseer's lips tightened, and she fixed a withering glare on Dave and Cedez.

"I can bet my crystal spine that one of you wretches is the Night Bandit," she accused, her voice dripping with venom. "Once I find out who took my arm, I am going to break their neck."

"False accusations against a high noble of Shandria, Lord Rim, are tantamount to treason by the Law of her Divine Shadow," Cedez retorted, sparing the Overseer a look befitting that of a small, insignificant inconvenience.

"Lord Dave... Rim? I've never heard of such a Lord!" Princess spat, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Something is very fishy about this..."

With a snap of her fingers, Cedez cut her off.

Thirteen dead elkin that moved as one, emerging from behind the trees. Their bodies encased in Bakelite armor were padded with thick layers of cloth to give the illusion of far greater size and bulk than their mere malnourished, undead teenage frames would suggest. Their synchronized footsteps echoed with a haunting cadence as they advanced, surrounding Dave and Cedez protectively. Thirteen pikes tipped with gleaming magisteel tips pointed menacingly at Princess.

"Another word against my Lord, and you'll find yourself at the wrong end of a magisteel pike faster than you can blink, wench!" Cedez warned, her lips pulling back to reveal sharp, glistening chompers.

"Overseer Princess," Giron interjected sternly, his voice a measured attempt at diplomacy. "Please do not antagonize Lord Rim. He's a respectable... foreign investor seeking to enrich Shandria with Bakelite armor. If all goes well, the Watchmen under my command will soon be wearing Bakelite armor as it is far lighter than metal."

"Who do you think you're working for, Constable?" Princess hissed at Giron, seething with barely contained rage, her crystalline crown catching the light with each furious syllable.

"I serve the City Watch," Giron replied. "Please address me by my proper, new rank. I was promoted to Corporal this morning, in fact, for catching an exceptionally dangerous terrorist!"

Corporal Giron finished signing the contract and handed it to his men.

"You were paid a hundred gold to find the bastard that took my arm!" Princess growled.

"And I am clearly doing just that," Watchman Giron replied. "Lady Astra has already provided me with a list of all the clients who purchased a set of Bakelite armor from this fine establishment. Tracker Laconi will thoroughly sniff each one of them after our search to determine whether they've interacted with the runaway slave."

"You'd better," Princess shot a glare at Laconi, who stood among the gathered Shandrian officers. “Can you smell her presence here?”

"I'm a dedicated agent of Illium Constabulary," the gray wolfgirl replied. "As such, I will do my best to track the runaway slave Remicra. I can indeed smell her presence here. She walked past these gates this morning, in fact... about an hour ago."

"Aha!" Princess declared triumphantly.

"Remicra Ognemeskra came to work in Rimzadria Armory uncollared," Cedez commented nonchalantly, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Look! She confesses!" Princess snapped her gray head toward the serenely smiling foxgirl. "Arrest them all!"

"We cannot arrest people without evidence, Lady Princess," Giron shook his head.

"It is rather hard to find a talented blacksmith in Shandria willing to work for cheap," Cedez shrugged, her voice tinged with feigned innocence. "We did not deem it necessary to check her status when we employed her at our noble Armory."

"Where is that runaway wretch?!" Princess advanced toward Cedez, stopping short at the gates, her metal and real arms clenched in fury. "Where are you hiding her?!"

"She went inside our armor-testing facility this morning wearing an iron box, about an hour before you showed up," Cedez pointed at the mansion. "I have not seen her emerge since. I suspect she could still be inside it. You're welcome to look for her and arrest her."

"Armor testing… facility?" Watchman Giron asked.

"The old building's ward is set to kill," Cedez said. "We use it to test impacts of various flying objects against Bakelite armor."

"Well, bloody turn it off!" Princess growled furiously.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Cedez shook her head with a blend of sympathy and resignation. "It seems that the runaway dragoness took an essential ward key with her. She looked quite tense this morning and did not disable the ward when she went in. If you wish to search the building for her body, you're welcome to do so… after you sign the contract in which you agree that our Estate will not be held liable for any injuries you sustain within the armor-testing facility."

Cedez artfully omitted the fact that Remicra was simply carrying the basic gate key with her, the one belonging to the estate's caretaker.

Princess gritted her teeth as Giron passed her the contract.

"Sign the contract, darling," Cedez purred, her tail swishing in hypnotic spiral patterns as she locked eyes with the gemkin. "Don't you want to catch your little runaway slave as fast as possible? It looks like you've been dreaming about it for weeks..."

Princess's hand twitched, her eyes scanning the contract with a wary intensity, seeking any hidden legal landmines that might be buried within. Satisfied, she signed it quickly, handing it to the other teams of hunters belonging to Lord Burgundy who stood behind her.

"There you go," Cedez smiled, her voice as sweet as honey. "Knight Svenn, please open the gate for these fine hunters and Watchmen. Let only those who have signed the contract enter."

One of the armored elkin stepped forward, its movements precise and deliberate as it grasped the large, metal gate, pulling it open with a faint creak.

Princess huffed and seized Laconi by the arm. "Track her scent well," she ordered. "Make sure these bastards aren't lying to us!"

Laconi nodded as she signed her name on the contract next. As she passed by Dave, she shot him a knowing smile.

Slowly, the delegation of Watchmen and hunters trickled into the Estate grounds, their footsteps muffled by the well-tended grass.

They followed Laconi, who sniffed the air, her keen senses attuned to the elusive scent of their quarry. The tense procession wound its way deeper into the property, heading straight towards the old, abandoned mansion.