Tuyerluygsh's Private Office, Truthseekers' Main Headquarters 3F

With a deep sigh, I sink down into my chair, noting how the dip in elevation makes it look like the stacks of papers and other crap on my similarly new desk are flowing over like a wave threatening to swallow me whole. It's less than it might have been if I hadn't sacrificed a hell of a lot of sleep over the last month making plans, studying admin and business. And receiving a heaping amount of help from Morn, Angelus and Windy on top of that.

The days since I settled in to get the guild and Meteor Manufactory consolidated have been hilariously busy. Most of the work has been dealing with the latter, admittedly, and the 4 Stone Platinum which was transferred to my bank account has been promptly cut in almost half to make good on all the agreements I made on my travels north and more besides.

For starters, Voinete Manor was mostly empty of furniture, so that's money down to fill the place with appropriate furnishings - or it will be soon as there's understandably a bit of a shortage in supply at the moment. At the very least, getting some workspaces for myself & the Officers set up, and ensuring none of us has to sleep on the floor or go hungry has been seen to.

Next up was buying up the rights to the land adjacent to Stone Arsenal while I still could. Which is half of why I'm buried in paperwork. Not that we're actively using the properties yet, but Meteo's land value is set to appreciate considerably in the coming months, so buying it while it's cheap was a necessary drain on our savings to prevent complications down the road. So, that's land agreements, several dozen different types of tax forms according to each layer I'm operating through as a noble in charge of a guild that's in charge of a business that I'm also in charge of that's in charge of the land.

Aside from getting to grips with the related legislation, it's maddening how many different-yet-similar hoops I'm having to jump through, legally speaking, and for better or worse I can't actually buy too much land in Meteo anyway, according to Imperial Law. Nailing down exactly what is within my power to do took a good two days of research alone.

As it turns out, more than even a 3-Star Merchant, assuming no extenuating contracts, and with less hassle - which I find ironic, glaring again at the stacks of parchment - but there have to be checks and balances in place to ensure that one man can't just...buy out a settlement from beneath the nation's nose. Or, just not blatantly and publically, in any case, I'm sure that some of the more prominent Merchants have their ways and silent wars with the Empire of Stone's bureaucrats.

Back in Reality, it's a fight that most developed countries have already lost, or as good as.

The last chunk of bother is from dealing with the HR and PR side of my job as Guildmaster. Like finally settling on a proper title, getting to know all the new recruits Jericho brought with him from Wolf Hunt, the grand opening of our Employment Bureau to the general public, liaising with the interested guild and merchant representatives making love calls - and telling most of them, politely, and with at least two Officers present, to fuck off, when talks of buying a significant controlling interest in Truthseekers or Meteor Manufactory came up.

See, with the slowly renewing interest in Astral Reckoning - primarily the beginning of the mass-migration of Eternal Wuxia players following the poor reception of the game's latest content update last week after a long spate of similar disappointments - Corporate Interest Groups have well-and-truly begun to move in on what many of them are starting to realise is a prime business opportunity.

What exactly informed their decision to do so is something I won't bother speculating on, but they're here now, and Truthseekers is the coveted jewel they all want to add to their crowns to make a splash in The Empire of Stone. They've been getting more and more persistent, too, like it's a competition to figure out how much money is enough to overcome my resolve.

I believe the current record sits at around $300,000 and allowing me to remain in Truthseekers as an 'honorary elder', whatever the hell that entails.

Somehow, nothing as ludicrous and out of left field as the Pavillion of Myriad Dao's offer yet. But, knowing what these people are like, it won't be much longer before they start throwing a tantrum, a la Hadrian King, who has my sympathy strangely enough, since rumour has it he's just as busy for mostly the same reason. Rambling Rose is, after all, the next Official Guild after us in terms of progression and growing quite nicely in player numbers compared to us.

The basic requirements I outlined make it almost impossible for fresh accounts to join in, for a blessing and a curse. With our reputation as Meteo's temporarily undisputed #1, it wouldn't be too difficult to open the floodgates and swallow a majority of the new players, a numerical advantage we certainly need. But not one we can support, as our assets are chained down in-game on the whole, and the real-world sales we have made went to finally pay some of the overdue salaries of the Officers - Morn now included as one after Angelus guilted me into admitting she's earned that much by now.

Then there are the very real consequences that come with throwing out all sense of quality control. I'm not eager to turn Truthseekers into a small gathering of purely cream of the crop elites, but ensuring at the very least a baseline of competency just...makes sense.

So long as you have completed The First Step and pass our evaluation, you are eligible to become a rank-and-file member. From there, so long as you prove yourself worth investing in further, you can be made into a core member with added responsibilities. Fail to live up to them, and you're out.

That's the framework we're currently operating with, and as we continue we'll flesh it out into something with more nuance, but simple is best for our current state of affairs.

"Suffering well, boss man?" Jupiter queries, pushing open the door to my office without so much as a knock or a cough, "Yep, you definitely look like a flat tire. How long have you been shut in here?"

Straightening up with a sigh, I lean on the desk to support my stressed-out mind and body, "Too long. Please don't tell me you came here with yet another crowd of second and third-generation bourgeois idiots looking for a morsel of my time and sanity?"

"Erm, well, good news! No such people are in the Employment Bureau right now arguing with each other about who arrived first," Jupiter beams with grandiose benevolence.

I groan, slumping over, "For fucks sakes..."

"What's got you so glum? They don't exist and I didn't come here to talk to you about that," he winks conspiratorially, "No but for real, Win's dealing with it, you're good. Someone does want to see you though. Besides me, because I seriously feel like you need to take a walk around the block or something at least. We're not reaching Demon Bird levels of panic and tension, but you aren't looking too far off from back then, Silver."

"Thanks for your concern," sitting up, I rub my eyes and fish out my nearly empty pitcher of water to pour myself some, "So, who is it?"

"That scary old lady from the Pioneers' Alliance," Jupiter informs me cheerily.

"...Zomn Klaeriss?"

"Yeah, that one."

I frown, "She came in person, you mean?"

"Yyyep," he gives a thumbs up.

"Well, it must be important if she didn't bother setting up a meeting in advance."

Enough to come in person on short notice, though not enough to just barge her way in. Alright, I'm interested in hearing her out, and it's an excuse to see the outside of my office's walls for a short while.

Temporary Meeting Room #3, Truthseekers' Main Headquarters 1F

The dour mage hasn't really changed since the last I saw her, changes that every Merrowan has undergone notwithstanding of course, but compared to what I remember, Zomn Klaeriss is rather more displeased than I expect to be her normal temperament. Other than a terse greeting, she has said nothing at all while I escorted her to one of our small, quiet rooms with no specific purpose, though from the advice I received from a clerk, I take it they've appropriated a few of them to meet and speak to clients of the Employment Bureau in a more private setting.

The Bureau, being within easier reach of the slightly more well-to-do residents of the Western Residential District, sees them bring their troubles to us when they can't be bothered to walk to the opposite end of town. And although the Unstained Reginlei has done much to restore Meteo to normalcy, the good Citizens of the Empire of Stone, particularly the well-to-do sort, are less than eager to burden them with their minor chores and so on, for the sake of their image.

It's possible the Zomn might feel as though we're cutting into the Pioneers' bottom line where that's concerned.

We each take a seat in old yet comfortable armchairs that were salvaged from ruined homes and being sold for cheap. Their designs are mismatched, and the low table between them is missing a leg, propped up instead by a different chunk of wood, but the small room is still oddly cosy.

"So, may I ask what brought you here today, Zomn?"

"Business, of course," the ageing spellcaster replies bluntly, "You recall that you reported the existence of a dungeon at Liggit Mine?"

"Yes, and I recall the incident that occurred not long after," I bow my head, "My condolences to the deceaseds' families."

Let's not bring up what my first reaction was for my own safety.

"It was an unfortunate thing," Zomn Klaeriss mutters, "But it was my negligence in sending a smaller group of novices that just happened to be available when our stronger members were preoccupied elsewhere that caused their demise, rather than the information you gave. It was foolish of me, in hindsight, to expect those hooligans to respect the Empire's..."

She trails off with a sigh, rubbing her brow with thumb and index finger, "Never mind. Now that matters have finally calmed down, a squad of Pioneers was sent to secure the Reminiscence and met with far less opposition this time."

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that they still ran into trouble with players used to getting a free ride, "From your tone and manner, I don't expect that this visit is to discuss the fees we agreed upon."

"Though we were informed of the presence of Demonic Corruption at the site, until an investigation was concluded that was unconfirmed," Zomn Klaeriss continues her story, "According to Imperial Law, such blights are to be reported and quarantined until a decision on how to proceed is made, which supersedes our normal rights and authorities over dungeon management. Therefore, Miner's Nightmare is, as of a bell's passing, under the direct supervision of the Unstained Reginlei on behalf of the Empire of Stone."

"That's...unfortunate," I frown, at a loss for how else to respond. Losing access to Miner's Nightmare is a severe blow to the development of the playerbase in Meteo Town.

"It is."

The two words belie a great deal of agitation bottled up inside, and I feel the air in the room vibrate, just a tiny bit for an instant. The Zomn releases a breath, and reaches into a small rift which suddenly appears above the bracelet on her left wrist, pulling out a short wooden pipe,  glancing at me, seeking permission. I consider it, then allow her to smoke, the fragrance of singed rosemary filling the poorly ventilated room.

"Pyrelect's Number 4," she explains unbidden, "Calms the nerves."

Distantly, I recall that Pyrelect is a reasonably well-respected Alchemist Atelier operating in the Kingdom of Scrollwork. Their products are popular with, of course, spellcasters. The pinch of powder she sprinkled into the receptacle probably has benefits tailored for them. I know the Atelier more for their work with oils and lacquers, relevant memories coming back little by little before fading into irrelevance again.

"Fortunately, the matter - I know not why - managed to reach the ears of the Iempern'ioll Cugosth," Zomn Klaeriss frowns, sucking the pipe's stem, "And Lord dun Ocri suggested that the matter be dealt with by Truthseekers, should they be amenable."

I previously sent a missive tentatively agreeing to the Councillor's proposal a few days ago, after making peace with the others and getting stuck in with my work. I hadn't expected to be called upon for it so soon after, but it represents something of an emergency, so it's an obligation I'll be glad to divest myself of.

"Well, far be it from me to argue with Lord dun Ocri's judgment on the matter," I chuckle to myself, "Though it's strange that you're the one delivering the message and not a member of the Unstained instead."

"The Pioneers' Alliance aren't about to sit still," Zomn Klaeriss snorts, smoke rushing out her nostrils, "Truthseekers will be acting in concert with us, per my own efforts to negotiate. Once a path has been cleared, I will attempt an intraspatial disjunction of the 'Pool of Desire' assumed to be at the deepest depths of the place to prevent the Corruption spreading any further."

Startled, I recoil back slightly, "Are you certain that's wise?"

Messing with dimension-based magics is tricky enough under normal circumstances without trying it on a source of Corruption. The potential for some kind of backlash is not low - or as that (now dead, seemingly) Kon mage we hired to teleport us close to the area put it, 'narsty business'.

"Unless you can propose an alternative, it is the most expedient solution at hand," Zomn Klaeriss takes a long drag on the pipe, clearly not happy either, "As well as the only suggestion the Councillor would entertain. Lord dun Ocri was quite interested in seeing Truthseekers struggle with the task alone, but compared to a woman past her prime, the youthful creators of a Historic Deed are something to be cherished."

Unexpected, "...Thank you for your kind consideration, Zomn Klaeriss. According to my authority as Tuyerluygsh, Truthseekers will be happy to collaborate on this issue."

I could try to dissuade her from that line of thinking, but elect to respect her will instead. It's a sentiment I'm familiar with, and the allure of contributing to a lasting 'legacy' is more and more difficult for a Merrowan to resist the closer their natural end looms.