The coach, plain-looking and foreign-made, raced towards the city.

Her father would disapprove if he knew just how much Talneia preferred foreign products above the goods made locally.

The body of the vehicle, while itself well-made was something any craftsman could produce; The real difference between it and what her father would have deemed a good product was the wheels, each adorned by a tai'er, and attached to a contraption that sounded as if it were named by a snake. Together they ensured that even speeding down the toughest roads, as they were doing now, was not the bone-shattering affair it would be otherwise.

And upon normal streets? Like flying.

She feared her thoughts revealed when she noticed the scowl upon the face of her Third Hand, Enna.

"You disapprove?" she asked.

"Certainly."

"In general, or something specific?"

"yes." The elder woman stated, her face expressing no emotion.

Talneia pouted.

As a Third Hand, Enna Could be trusted without question. To a house such as hers, a trait more valuable than gold. But that did nothing stop the elder woman from being an eternal annoyance. Something she remembered enjoying as her father had suffered under her service. The amusement now belonging to him as Enna began grooming the young heiress for her future role as head of the House of Seven Rivers.

She opted to stare at Enna until she relented. Enna countered by staring out the window, watching the trees pass. A sight that caused Talneia's stomach to perform somersaults.

"The music." the woman muttered a moment later.

"their music?" asked Talneia in confusion. The foreigner's taste in music was certainly exotic but hardly offensive.

"Instead of enjoying the sound of an instrument, they would treat it as a tool of attack. I understand the appeal of a band playing in harmony, but the foreigner's 'Rock' and 'Jazz' are purveyors of chaos. Worst of all, they would gather into an 'ork’estra', a gathering of sometimes twenty or more, who assault their audience with a wall of sound loud enough to make one's ears bleed…or at least feel like they were." The old woman responded, a hand rubbing her left ear as if in remembrance of such an event.

"Twenty?!" Talneiae exclaimed "How would you be able to hear anything amongst such a cacophony?"

"I believe the point is not to hear it, but to feel it, physically." She tapped her chest to emphasise her statement. She issued a small snort, her opinion on the matter clear.

Talneia mused over their conversation but gave little thought to Enna's words, however. It was ultimately a means to distract her from the real matter of importance; the reason that they had travelled here.

While she had been selected as the heir to her household, her position was far from secure. Her mother, a manipulator by her very nature, favoured her brother. More because he was a fool, than any familial fondness for him. Easily flattered, easily manipulated, and easily used. Her brother was the very definition of a tool.

The coach entered the city, the transition from dirt to paving noticeable not by its roughness but by the lack thereof. She ‘really’ liked foreign goods. Her thoughts were interrupted by her Third Hand's body going stiff as she stared out the window. It took a moment to realise what was wrong. The city of foreigners was famed for its bright lights, even going so far as to advertise the city as the second sun. There were no lights outside.

They were still in the city, just not on the main road. Where they should have been.

As her heart began to race, the coach began to slow. Stopping in front of a band of people.

"These wouldn't be the musicians you were referring to, would they?" she tried to quip. The mock question gripping her heart in a vice.

Enna did not respond. Her concentration set on her spellwork. Her skills far from being able to deal with such numbers. There was only one choice.

Talneia took a breath then stepped forth from the coach, her calm exterior hiding the storm of emotions raging inside her. But one of the House of Seven Rivers did not become emotional in front of their enemies. Even when their enemy was their own blood.

Her brother was amongst the group that had waylaid her coach. Close enough to the front to claim leadership, but far enough back to use these foreigners as living shields should it come to that.

The sight of his smirking face, all the more disturbing for the clothes he wore. An outfit made to cut off circulation in all but the groin, mostly purple, flourished by white frills at the end of the sleeves. A ruff of many flowers made of yellow cloth, presented his head as if it were part of a bouquet.

The fact that it bore such a strong resemblance to her lavender dress and golden hair caused the bile to rise in her throat.

She took in the band before her. Their armour clean and properly adorned, their stance disciplined. Professional, more soldier than ruffian. A pity, as the latter would have been more susceptible to her words.

There were ten surrounding her sibling while several men and women stood upon the roofs of the buildings behind them, none of which bore a bow. Wizards, one and all, then. No doubt their numbers mirrored behind her, ready to block off any attempt to escape. In the corner of her eyes, she detected movement from both ends of the road. A full blockade? A lot of coin had to have been spent to secure their services.

The distinct lack of presence from the civilians and guards of this city indicated a far more valuable measure of influence had been wasted. Her mother's doing, no doubt.

She turned to the driver, who bowed his head in shame upon meeting her eyes. He would not have been persuaded to betrayed them for promises of coin or power, but her mother had more personal assets to sway the minds of men. Well, not their minds.

"Surrender, sister!" her brother demanded. She turned her head to him, relieving the driver of his torment, and asked him "why?".

"You are outnumbered and outwitted, dear sister. The victory is mine" his face adorned by a lazy, little smile.

Ignoring him, she turned to the fighters nearest her and greeted them. "Good evening noble adventurers," she said with no hint of mockery in her voice.

A few physically responded to her words. Good, she thought. trying to manipulate them through the use her Third Hand would have been most troublesome.

Her brother stepped forward, ready to counter-attack with a speech of his own.

But whatever monologue he was about to deliver stopped when a disturbing screech of metal echoed down the street, made all the louder by the lack of normal human activity in the area. His scene interrupted, all eyes locked-onto the source of the disturbance. A metal lid used to cover the entryway into the sewers below had been moved aside, scraping along the cobblestones of the road. All eyes moved to the hole it had once covered, the tension in the air palpable. For a moment, all lay still, an eternity of silence passed. And then a sack was launched into the air.

An arrow from somewhere high behind her had pierced it mid-air, causing it to veer away from the crowd. At least one archer, both quick and accurate, she noted. The wasted attack a good thing as it may instead have pierced the head of the boy who followed. A small thing, brown-haired and brown-eyed, unremarkable in every sense, stared at the assemblage of hardened killers and froze. The eternity ceased.

Her brother scowled, his grand moment cut short by a child half his age, he turned to a raven-haired woman, the presumed actual leader of these foreigners and said. "Deal with him!"

The woman, about to say something, stopped as her brother collapsed to the ground. Talneia's head shot round to the boy, just in time to see him disappear back down the hole. Somewhere in the darkness below, a yell rang out. "FUG'MUNEE". She could only assume what fug meant, but she knew enough of the 'en glish' to know 'Munee' was their word for coin. The contents of the sack, no doubt. The boy, more than likely a thief.

It was at that moment that Enna made herself known by using a spell bolt, shattering a vial that someone in the crowd had pulled from their belt. More than likely an antidote. The recovery of her brother would not happen while they were present. They would let them flee or let him die, the consequences of both decisions dire. Or…

"Noble adventurers" she called out, her eyes remaining on the raven-haired woman. "Your benefactor lays before you, dying! Your city, known for how it deals with troublemakers! your options, few…!" The meaning of her words clear to even those that did not speak common. "Pledge yourself to the House of Seven Rivers and all shall be made right." Each and every one of them could translate her words into a single sentence. Serve or die.

The adventurers had gambled with the nobles and lost. The city would have their hides, or she would have their souls by having them sign a magic contract. They could kill her of course, but that would only compound their troubles. Their decision obvious when one by one their bodies began to slacken; weapons were sheathed and hands relaxed. A moment of silence as the now aimless adventurers waited for someone to do something.

It was the raven-haired woman who stepped forward and knelt before her new master. The foreigner had chosen to act in extreme submission, to better the terms of her contract, no doubt. As social moves went, it was one of the most pathetic, but it was hard to fault someone for absolute surrender.

"My brother in the coach, please. And retrieve that boy's sack, the House of Seven Rivers never forgets a debt."

"I would not suggest it, noble lady." Another of the foreigners, a young man with a scar running along the left side of his jaw, had spoken while using the tip of his sword to lift the opening of the sack wide, peering into it with blatant disgust.

"What's in there?"

"Rats, Noble Lady. the boy must have been a rat catcher."

She was caught in a dilemma. Travelling with a bag of diseased vermin was unthinkable but to leave it here would betray the oath of her house. She compromised by promising to purchase all the rat corpses the boy could want, should he request it. Then indication to the scarred man that that sack find itself as far from her as possible.

She turned to see that her brother had been bound, the ropes more than likely meant for her. Two men placed him within her coach

"Thank you…?" she said to the raven-haired woman.

"Vanessa Reinolds, my Lady." The woman said bowing a little lower this time.

"Now, while you and my third discuss your contract, I shall keep poor Tadneia company. She joined her brother in the coach, ensuring herself that he had been properly secured and that no weapons had been hidden upon his person. She then administered an antidote before gagging him with a piece of cloth. The look of fear and outrage on his face as regained his senses was truly wonderful.”

After the contracts had been signed, they set off. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. Deals would have to be made, and debts repaid.