“To begin, we would obviously make whatever concessions necessary to ensure the safety and well-being of your artificers,” Argrave assured Therapont. “If they want no one on the site, they’ll get no one on the site. If they want to keep the land after the pump station is built, they can keep it.”
Therapont crossed his arms. “My opposition thus far was predicated on the idea that you already would institute these things.”
Argrave swallowed and smiled. “Then your predication was correct. I’m going to be blunt with you, Therapont. Both our nations have some degree of leverage over the other.” He leaned forth on the chair. “I very desperately need to have this pumping station built. If I don’t, ash will blot out the suns, famine will wreak the land, and we’ll endure the harshest winter imaginable. But you need spirits for dwarven metal—spirits that we have in abundance.”
“Yet you aren’t our only avenue to reach the surface.” Therapont uncrossed his arms, then jumped up to sit on the front of his desk.
“Yet our established relationship will make us the only easy access to spirits.” Anneliese held out her hand calmly. “We intimately understand your needs. Elsewhere, different nations will be dealing with tremendous turmoil as the cycle of judgment comes to a head. Even supposing they have our capability, will they maintain the same level of cooperation? And even if they would cooperate, what will they expect in return? Something equally as grand, no doubt.”
Therapont ran his hand across his beard. “If you know of this eruption, there are other ways to prevent it. You could rummage together any number of patchwork solutions. You have an abundance of magic-wielders and laborers at your disposal, and seem to have talent enough to muster an unorthodox method. Yet you insist on employing secret dwarven technology.” He looked between the two of them. “Can you see why this draws my concern? It seems unnecessary for you to surrender your leverage for this project before you attempt to solve it yourself. That is why I sense something remains unsaid.”
That Therapont was sharp enough to grasp this fact unsettled Argrave. He was hesitant to bring up their true goal—ending the cycle of judgment permanently. He thought they would think him a lunatic. It was an insane proposition as a mortal to step forth and declare that he would be the one to do what no one else had.
But then... he had connections, didn’t he?
“It’s because I’m not asking as the King of Vasquer. I’m asking as a member of the Blackgard Union, a coalition of divine and mortal forces,” he said. “To tell you honestly, we believe that Gerechtigkeit has something stored down in the magma beneath Vysenn of vital importance.”
Therapont stared for a few moments, then laughed. “A relic of the ancient calamity? Even if that is true, why would my people aid you in acquiring such an evil, foul thing? All of what Gerechtigkeit is, what he does, manifests solely as destruction and death. You would ask my people to aid in you finding such a thing? Do your people not have tales of mortals overstepping their boundaries, damning them and all their allies to misery?”
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