On their final approach to Shatufan, Leon had a choice to make. It was a large, walled city, and its long curtain walls were heavily enchanted. Despite that, he could punch through those enchantments if he wanted to and fly over the walls. However, that might be seen as a provocation and could cost him the resources and support he needed.
On the other hand, landing and approaching on foot, while a sign of humility, trust, and respect, might also be taken as a sign of weakness. It might encourage the powers-that-be in the city not to support him out of fear of the Ocean Kingdom, or they might arrogantly believe that despite being weaker than Leon, they had power over him and could dictate terms.
Leon wasn’t keen on showing his neck to the magistrates of the city, but he needed to acquire the resources they produced no matter what.
’No harm in starting with respect,’ he considered. ‘If they try to screw me over, I can... cross that bridge when I come to it.’ For the moment, he didn’t want to consider what might happen if a show of respect wasn’t rewarded out of fear of poisoning negotiations before they even began.
So, he led his small entourage and landed in front of Shatufan’s largest gate. As with many great cities he knew of, a small town had sprung up around the gate, helping to facilitate trade between the city dwellers and the country folk. The gate itself sat on one side of a huge forum in which many shops and stalls had been set up, and through which many wheelless carriages drove, some large and laden with goods. A huge quantity of cargo passed through the gate every day, despite most of the city’s resources coming in by ship from villages along the shores of the largest of the Finger Lakes, next to which Shatufan had been built.
Leon’s aura was radiant and unmistakable, and he filled the sky with clouds as he touched down in the forum. Wheelless carriages were buffeted by wind and the sheer weight of his aura, and people screamed in alarm and fear as they sought cover. Even the gate guards, apparently more used to monitoring trade and keeping peace, were intimidated, and Leon’s companions had more than enough time to land beside him and present a united front before several high-ranking—if their uniforms were any indication—officers in the gatehouse emerged to confront them. The strongest of their number was only sixth-tier, however, weaker even than the weakest member of Leon’s entourage.
“I-Identify yourselves!” the commander shouted, his only lightly accented voice wobbly and uncertain despite his attempt to assert himself.
“I am Leon Raime, King of Artorion!” Leon loudly declared for everyone to hear. “I have business with your city’s Presiding Magus!”
“W-Wait here!” the commander demanded, and Leon cocked an eyebrow.
“Here?” he asked with a pointed look around the forum and the disturbance he was causing.
The commander, already pale, swiftly changed his mind and ushered them into the gatehouse.
The gatehouse itself was a spectacular building, serving as both a way for Shatufan to show off its wealth as well as a way to secure entrance into the city. It was grand in size, about half the size of the southern Talon, and showed the general architectural style of the city well: a rectangular building made of local yellow-white stone, decorated with swathes of bright blue and white paint. As far as Leon could tell, all of the city’s administrative and defensive structures shared a similar geometric footprint and color scheme.
His party was hurried through the gatehouse’s halls—fortunately tall enough even for his giants to comfortably pass through—until they reached a well-appointed room where they could wait. There were no windows opening into the city, as befitting of a defensive structure, but there were plenty of plush seats and small tables around which his people could gather.
Once there, he didn’t have long to wait. Within a quarter of an hour, he received his first proper welcome from someone of high rank in the city.
A party half as large as Leon’s, though of roughly equal average power, entered the waiting room, led by a familiar face: Jamshid of House Pishda, as he recalled, the tenth-tier mage who accompanied Manuchehr to Artorion. Though it had only been a couple months since then, so much had happened that it almost felt like years.
“King Leon,” Jamshid said in perfect Nexus common, putting Manuchehr’s stilted and accented speech to shame. “I welcome you to Shatufan, the jewel of the Far West. I apologize for any misunderstandings that may have occurred; your arrival was unexpected.”
Though his words were friendly enough, Leon could sense hostility from most of Jamshid’s entourage. Despite that, he decided to take the man at his word and attitude, and answered, “I am glad to be welcomed, I have business to discuss with your people.”
“What kind of business brings you to my enviable city?” Jamshid asked with a pleasant smile.
“The business kind of business,” Leon answered. “I find myself with a need for Aurichalcum that I believe your people may help satisfy. Perhaps we might discuss that?”
Jamshid’s smile thinned slightly. “My city prides itself in being the only source of that material in the Far West. As a result, we have many clients who request our supply, not the least of whom is Despot Archelaus, who purchases most of what we produce. He pays in advance when he makes orders for the Aurichalcum. We are almost fully booked for the next few decades; given your... situation in the south, I do not believe you have the time to wait for large amounts of the material.”
“With sufficient investment, production can be increased,” Leon pointed out.
“Not in a short time,” Jamshid responded.
“I am willing to reopen negotiations on the price,” Leon stated. “I will state, however, that the longer the negotiations continue, the less able I’ll be to pay. So perhaps we ought to get started as soon as possible?”
Jamshid grinned. “That will be a matter for the Azadan to handle. For now, I invite you into the city as my personal guest. This fortress is hardly the place to conduct such negotiations, nor is it a place to host visiting monarchs.”
Their time to rest didn’t last even an hour before a party of Azadan arrived at the estate, led by the Presiding Magus himself, Manuchehr. They didn’t ask to meet him right away, but Leon at least noted their arrival and their meeting with Jamshid, which seemed rather tense even before they entered a private room with strong wards through which he couldn’t eavesdrop without alerting the room’s occupants.
Still, hardly half an hour passed before a servant was dispatched from the room to fetch him. Despite the request for Leon to join the meeting alone, he insisted on Icarius joining him, and the servant was in no position to refuse him, despite several increasingly half-hearted attempts to dissuade him from bringing the former Director to this meeting.
Still, there were no complaints, though a few dirty looks, when Leon and Icarius were shown into the plain meeting room.
It was as opulent a place as the rest of the estate, being a round room with an equally round table in the center, at which twenty people could sit. All but one of those seats were filled, though Jamshid quickly gave an order for another to be brought in for Icarius. On the floor around the table was a mosaic of flowers and grass, while the walls were covered in frescoes of Shatufan’s environs, with the relatively long and thin Finger Lake the city sat next to featuring prominently.
“Leon of House Raime,” Manuchehr stated in the city’s native language, “you have come to our city for Aurichalcum, it seems.”
“Not wasting time with pleasantries, I see,” Leon said in Nexus common with a cheeky grin sent Icarius’ way. “Yes, I’ve come to trade.”
“Your request to trade is denied,” Manuchehr coldly declared, and several Azadan, including Jamshid, immediately leaped to their feet.
“That was never decided!” Jamshid shouted.
“You have no authority to do that!”
“You overstep!”
“How dare you speak for us without discussion!”
Of the nineteen Azadan, only four of them spoke in his defense.
Manuchehr glared dismissively at each of them before turning his disdainful gaze back to Leon. “It is the opinion of this city that you are a bad investment. We will not be antagonizing the Ocean Lords. You have until midnight to leave this city, under pain of imprisonment and extradition to Despot Terris.”
A vicious grin spread across Leon’s face as the four who spoke in his defense began to shout even more, only for those who supported Manuchehr’s decision, including another tenth-tier mage rivaling Jamshid’s power, to in turn shout them down.
“That’s it, then?” he asked in a moment of relative silence. “You refuse to even hear what I have to offer?”
Manuchehr sneered. “No one cares for your pathetic city, ‘King’ Leon. You had one interesting product, but that alone is not enough for us to risk our city to assist you. It was barely enough to give you what little Aurichalcum we had left over that wasn’t snapped up by wealthier and more deserving partners.”
Manuchehr rose from his seat, as did the other fourteen who were still seated.
“Midnight, ‘King’. Do not forget. If you are not gone from this city by then, then we will have no choice but to take more decisive action against you.” His eyes briefly flickered to Jamshid. “And anyone harboring you.”
Without another word, Manuchehr and most of the visiting Azadan left, though not without a few rude parting words exchanged between them and Jamshid and the other three supporters who remained behind.
When the doors closed behind them, leaving the meeting room mostly empty, Jamshid sighed. “Apologies, King Leon. I did not think this meeting would go so poorly. I did not expect them to immediately agree to trade, but neither did I expect our Presiding Magus to make such outrageous decisions without consulting the full assembly of Azadan.”
“I... am not surprised,” Leon said a little dejectedly as he sent a single wordless glance Icarius’ way. The former Director only smiled bitterly and subtly shrugged. “This was never going to be quite so easy...”
The Presiding Magus was attempting to force him out of the city without providing what he needed. Leon could hardly blame him, but that didn’t erase the fact that he needed what Shatufan had to offer.
‘It seems I must consider other options to get what is needed...’