Mayor Bakarjin was busy handling a pile of trivial paperwork in his study, the fireplace roaring and dispelling the chill of the Druiysk winter.
The stuffy air in the study was filled with the smell of old paper and a faint scent of ink.
His pen was gliding over a report when a sudden knock on the door interrupted him.
"What is it?" The mayor looked up, a hint of impatience in his voice. He hated being disturbed, especially when he was spending so much effort covering up the local fiscal holes and resource misappropriations.
In recent days, he had been accompanying Colonel Hestingov through Druiysk's streets and alleys, City Hall, the municipal school, church, and court, and even the garrison's barracks.
