[Admund, Klaus, Max]
"Questionable business practices?" the clerk says, "dear oh dear. That does sound like cause for concern. Perhaps he is evading taxes? Running a commercial enterprise without proper permits? I assure you, we take such matters very seriously. Whatever the criminal charges you may bring, I am sure the Komission will wish to bring a damaging civil action against this individual! After, of course, an exhaustive examination of the evidence."
She rings a bell on her desk. A moment later, a teenaged boy with stooped shoulders enters the room, a frightened expression on his face. Without even looking at him, Udilier barks a series of records that she want him to fetch. He returns shortly after, deposits the records on her desk, then slinks out again.
"Here we are: Bardin Dwinbarsson, goes by 'Bernhardt.' Imperial Engineers' School, Altdorf. Arrived at the south gate on Bezahltag the 10th of Sommerzeit. A hefty tax bill, and the records show that he protested vigorously, agreeing to pay only after being threatened with arrest. Hmmm, Mr Dwinbarsson has no holdings in the city, nor any commercial permits of any kind. We have no further information on him."
"Do you know who owns the two warehouses, madam?" Max asks deferentially.
"Let me see: yes, both are registered to Ogrim Svenssonsson, a ore merchant of 47 Haupt Strasse, The Wynd. Mr Svenssonson has been resident in the city for nearly sixty years, and has never been suspected of wrongdoing. Well, there is nothing suspicious there, at least."
"And the Windhund Haulage Company, madam?" Max says.
"Ah yes. Also on Haupt Strasse. Managed by Theodore Gluckstein. According to these files, both Wolf Runner Coaches and Castle Rock Coaches have complained about them. Nothing very specific - just vague accusations that they poach their clients. Investigated twice, but cleared. Oh, and a halfling pharmacist by the name of Velma Karbunkel from the Osstor district made a complaint against Windhund Haulage, but withdrew it the next day. She claimed it was a misunderstanding. I hope this information will be useful to you."
"Oh, yes indeed, madam," Max says, "thank you so much for your help."
She smiles, "It was no trouble. It was nice to meet some polite young gentlemen - since the new taxes were brought in I have been plagued by angry dwarfs."
Admund takes the opportunity to inquire about the taxes, and about the Komission Convenor.
"Well, I think the taxes are a good idea in theory," she says, "the city needs the money, especially at this time of year. The carnival does bring a lot of extra business, but it also means hiring additional watchmen, street cleaners... oh, the expenses are endless. And naturally, the chancellor has decided that the burden should fall on those most able to pay. The temples are extremely rich, and - as everyone knows - wizards can simply conjure gold out of the air. And as for dwarfs, well, they are natural hoarders. Every dwarf has a pile of gold under his bed!
"But the paperwork is appalling. We've hired dozens of new scribes to cope with the workload, and the Guild of Legalists has done the same. If any of you gentlemen need a job, I'm sure we still need more help! Everything else has ground to a halt here - it's taxes taxes taxes, dawn to dusk. And the complaints! If I never see another dwarf, it will be too soon."
She looks at the door, then leans forward conspiratorially, "And Convenor Brant is no help at all. He's never here! I don't know what that man does all day, but he certainly isn't working for the Komission. I've asked at the Merchants' Guild, and he's never there either. He lives not five minutes from this building, but is he ever at home? No he is not. It makes it awfully difficult to get anything done when half the forms need to be signed by a man who may as well not exist!
"Now, gentlemen, if there's nothing else I can do for you, I really must get on. I have some things to do before close today."
