The Ocotillo Exchequer's Quarterly Report

The Ocotillo Exchequer's Quarterly Report lay open on the mahogany desk. "Living expenses vary dramatically across the provinces," it stated in azure print. "From the wretched hovels along the eastern steppes to the wealthy estates of White Seal Bay." The woman's crimson eyes lingered on the itemized costs—lodging, provisions, servants' wages, equipment upkeep—all categorized by seven distinct social stations. A footnote caught her attention: "Note: While one's chosen lifestyle bears no official consequence to the Erudite Triad, local magistrates and guild masters have been observed to adjust their treatment of individuals accordingly."   Useless, the report. Or not. She thumbed quickly to the population annex and then back to the highlighted annexures charting merchant flows, pause and flick, scan and stow. Beyond the filigreed glass wall of her office, Shal'Azura's night shimmered with the soft light of the roselight lanterns. The true ledgers—those detailing provenance and ambition—were written not in numbers but in movement. Only fools believed fortune was static.   A small smile brushed her lips as she reminisced about recent events and their anticipated impact on the next Quarterly Reports. Tracing the footnote with her perfectly manicured thumbnail, she felt the texture of dried ink. She doubted most of the so-called magistrates could even read a balance sheet, let alone interpret the implications.   Right then the Tempest Toll sounded from nearby Easifatun Temple, not the glassy, soft hour-chimes but the urgent, staccato rattle calling the Windwardens and warning the city about a rising storm. Unworried, she leaned back in her high-backed chair. A storm was rising indeed, she thought, a storm unlike any this city had seen before.