Water rushed through the subterranean conduit pipes with a hollow roar that echoed across the vaulted valve hall.
Lucan walked across the slick catwalk, holding Malakor's stamped wax token loosely between his fingers.
Twenty paces ahead, where colossal intake pipes converged into the reservoir manifold, stood an armored Choral guard captain.
The officer leaned against a polished brass terminal, surrounded by four elite sentries armed with barbed poleaxes.
"The broker sent a stray dog instead of returning himself?" the captain asked, sneering through the visor of his helmet.
"Malakor suffered an unfortunate occupational accident," Lucan answered coolly, stopping on the catwalk.
"His hands are occupied with bandages, so I came to finalize the extraction terms for my sister."
"Your sister is valuable property of the royal courts," the captain barked, tapping a glowing relay tool mounted to the wall fitting.
