The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

The note came to Valle Irons in the usual way: Delivered by a street urchin who had doubtless been given a handful of ducats to do so, and had likely not stopped to ask who wanted the note delivered, what the note was about, or why. And, as ever, the note had been taciturn in its instructions:

'Tonight. Your office.'

And so he sat there, late at night, long after the last of his workers had gone home for the night. The Spokes, in the daytime, was one of the loudest parts of Sentinel. The air was near-constantly filled with the noise of blaring horns, shouting foreman, and steaming whistles.

And, from time to time, workers screaming from getting their hands caught in a grinding gears. Which, of course, was entirely their own fault.

But at night the Spokes was as silent as the grave. Few people would want to linger on the ash-stained streets after dark, save for the kobold workers allowed to camp in the yards.

The lantern on his desk flickered with a phosphoric light, illuminating the sunken features of his face. Valle sat in silence, lightly drumming his fingers on the varnished wood. Occasionally his eyes wandered to the small box off to his side. He had to imagine they were the reason for this impromptu meeting.

He just wanted it to be done. To give these creeps what they wanted, and be left alone for good. But he doubted it would ever be so simple. There was always another favour, another request, always 'one more thing' for Lord Bleak.

Perhaps, Valle would occasionally tell himself in his quiet moments, this was what he deserved. He'd chosen to make a deal with bandits, after all. The alternative, letting his debts lapse, hadn't been an alternative at all. Now, instead, his debts still hung snugly around his neck like a cruel noose.

A floorboard creaked somewhere in the darkness, causing him to sharply look around the shabby interior. Perhaps it was just a rat, he told himself. Rats were as common in his factories as the workers. If anything, they were much more punctual.

'Tonight.' Valle grit his teeth in frustration. Leave it to those arseholes to give him such a vague time, and expect him to sit in his office like a fool for untold hours.

"It's good to meet you, Valle."

The soft, female voice sent a shudder up the length of his spine. Valle spun in his chair, only to find himself staring at a slim young woman only a few paces behind him. She was dressed all in black, save for the thin white scarf draped around her neck. Her pale face was framed by warm orange curls, and she bore a carefree smile on her face. With such an icy complexion, she had to be an Eldergardian.

On a purely aesthetic level, he would have called her beautiful. But every primal nerve of his ancient monkey brain was screaming in warning at the sight of this slim, smiling girl. He couldn't help but notice the sai sheathed on her belt, or the twin swords on her hips.

It was like suddenly coming face to face with a cheetah. Perhaps, for a brief second, a person would think 'what a cute cat.' Moments before reality caught up with them, and said cute cat tore their face off.

"I..." Valle swallowed hard, his mouth dryer than the sandiest dune, "I was expecting-"

"Askyr couldn't make it today," she interrupted, sporting a cheery smile on her face. "And so I was sent in his stead."

"I... see," he eventually replied. His chair creaked beneath him. "It's just... I don't know if I have much reason to believe you. You could be lying."

Her smile never faltered. "Your prudence does you well. I was told you're a sharp fellow," she replied. "Call me Leona. Consider me an associate of Lord Bleak." She rolled a sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on her pale inner forearm: A skull with a five pointed star behind it. The same mark that Askyr had.

"Alright, well, er... what's this meeting about?" Valle reached up, dabbing some damp sweat from his forehead.

"You're not in any trouble, of course," Leona replied. He had a distinct feeling he'd be dead by now if he was. "It's just... well, we were wondering about some of the materials we commissioned from you. Your foundries have been quite busy, busier than normal."

Valle nodded. His employees had no idea why they'd been tasked with forging such strange, seemingly useless things out of the blue. Fortunately, they weren't paid to ask questions. "I've only just started on the ball bearings. Only made a sample batch today."

How had they known he already had a set prepared for them? Granted, he'd been told to make the ball bearings first, but they already knew he'd had some forged in the span of a day?

Was someone on the factory floor a spy? Or did they have someone always watching him from the shadows? Leona had entered with grace and silence, it was possible she wasn't the only person tied to Lord Bleak with such skills.

"Indeed. And we need to make sure those ball bearings are up to snuff," Leona calmly replied. "Tailored to rather... precise specifications."

"My people are good at what they do," Valle pointedly replied. He may have been under the thumb of these thugs, but he wouldn't stand for them speaking ill of the quality of his work.

Her smile brightened, but there wasn't a hint of joy or empathy in her eyes. "Let's hope so." She sauntered over and popped the lid off the nearby box. Valle pushed his lantern so she could get a better look at the interior.

Her gloved thumb and index finger gripped one ball, lifting it to the light. Valle, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why Lord Bleak wanted hundreds of solid lead ball bearings. But, whatever the case, Leona seemed pleased by them. "Well now... seems you might have gotten the size right on the first try. Nice job. What do you make of them, sir?"

A look of bewilderment briefly crossed Valle's face. He turned, sharply, only to freeze in horror when he spied another figure in the room with them. A tall and dark hooded shape, looming even taller than Valle, hung back some distance from Leona. He floated over in silence, just close enough for the lantern light to highlight the carved, angular features of his mask. It had been designed like a death mask, depicting a a grim and emotionless face.

When the shape drew close enough, Valle could see that his mask was forged from pure promethium. Having that kind of wealth struck Valle as being nearly inconceivable for any lowly bandit.

The lead ball floated from Leona's grasp, hovering just in front of the stranger's face. He silently tilted his head from one side, then to the other. Eventually, in a soft, hissing voice he said "Well done."

"They're... the proper size?" Valle warily asked.

"They are," the stranger confirmed. "Continue manufacturing them to these specifications until the entire order is filled."

Valle nodded stiffly, the only thing he could think to do in that moment. Eventually his wits at least partially returned to him. "Getting that volume of lead isn't... isn't an easy thing to do."

"We're sure you'll manage. You know what'll happen to you if you don't," Leona said, smiling pleasantly.

Of course Valle knew. He was never allowed to forget. "But... why do you even want all these lumps?" he asked.

"You needn't worry about it," Leona cheerily said as the lead ball was floated back toward the box.

"But wh-"

The tip of a sai was suddenly under his chin, so close that it could have shaved him. Leona's smile never faltered. "Whatever you need to know, you'll be told. And if you don't like that, well we might just have to reconsider working with you. You're valuable, but not irreplaceable." She withdrew her blade from his quivering throat.

"N-noted," Valle replied.

The floating shape started retreating to the shadows. "Leona. Come."

"As you will, my lord."

Valle's eyes widened slightly, his fears abruptly confirmed. This wasn't just another underling. Lord Bleak himself, who Valle had suspected of being some kind of elaborate ruse being cooked up by bandits, was all too real. Or, at least, he had a masked face to put to the name.

Leona turned on her heel and stalked away, lifting and tossing her sai a few times as she went. There was a clear practice to the movement, as she caught the handle expertly each time.

She paused, walking halfway into the shadows, and smirked at Valle. "Chin up, Valle. When this is all said and done, you'll be able to look back and smile."

"When... what is all said and done?" he hesitantly asked.

"Ah, Valle." Leona melted into the shadows. "What did I say about asking things you don't need to know?"

He sat statue still for several moments, silent as the grave, until he was certain he was well and truly alone. At which point, Valle sank into his chair and let out a shaky breath. It was only in that moment that he finally became aware of the ice cold sweat he was drenched in, and heard the thunder of his own heartbeat.