Many Years Ago...
Carly slipped quietly through the door of the small room, taking care not to wake its sole inhabitant. However, she was pleasantly surprised to see that the greying dwarf in the iron-framed bed seemed quite thoroughly awake and alert. "Morning, Drorn. And how are we feeling today?" The dwarf gave a slightly wheezy chuckle. "Well miss, since y' asked, I'm not feelin' much at all at th' moment. Whether that's your medicine at work or a piece o' rail in m' spine, I can't say." "Probably the medicine," Carly said. "We ran the metal detector all over your back to make sure you weren't at risk of paralysis." Drorn laughed again. "Ohhh-ho-ho, don' you worry lass. I remember. Could y' not have warmed it up at least a bi' first?" Carly rolled her eyes and heaved a big, dramatic sigh. "Yeeees, sir. Your complaint is noted. Is there anything else?" "Well while I'm complainin' an' all-" But he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Carly turned to address the sound, and was greeted by the rather nervous face of a young intern who had joined the staff only recently. "Um, Matron? Sorry to bother you, but we're, well... We're out of painkillers."
Carly groaned. "Oh, no. Not again. Those taxes are far too much, I've been saying it for months!" She turned back to Drorn. "I'm sorry, I need to go take care of this. I'll be back as soon as possible. Let Tim here help you, assuming he even can. We probably won't be able to pay for bandages pretty soon." And with that, she stormed past the intern and out into the hall.
Carly stepped onto the plaza in front of the hospital, and looked out over the city of Redigit. She had often questioned the wisdom of placing a hospital, destination for the sick and injured, at the top of a steep hill. Unfortunately, the inconvenient position of her guild hall was simply another way in which her practice went unappreciated by the Champions of the city. They had seen fit, however, to put it nearby their palace, in the event that they themselves required her services. It was all well and good for them, she thought bitterly. They can fly.
The Imperial Palace of the Champions was a towering behemoth, constructed from bricks of silver, gold, and platinum. It was easily the largest building in the city, and the most elaborate. The Champions had built the entire thing themselves, much like many of the city's oldest buildings. Just the glittering front gates probably cost more than the entire medical guild's annual budget... Or they would have, if the Champions hadn't dug them out of the earth and assembled them personally. The guards standing in front of the gates seemed to appreciate none of this. In fact, they looked rather bored. As Carly approached, however, they woke from their stupor and turned to face her. "Halt!" One of them barked. "What business do you have here?"
"I need to speak to the Champions," Carly told him. "The hospital is out of painkillers, these taxes are bankrupting us!"
The guards were unmoved. "By order of the Champions, no-one is to be allowed in until further notice. You may not enter." Carly was beginning to get frustrated. "There are people in pain, something needs to be done. Can't you contact them somehow, and tell them I'm here?"
The other guard stepped forward to back up his partner, but before he could say anything, a great figure appeared on a balcony far above them. He was a huge man, clad in glowing orange armor. on his back was a massive pair of burning wings, and on his arm, a viciously spiked shield. This was Rexus, the Champion of the Sun. He casually leapt from the balcony, coming to a thunderous landing right in front of Carly.
"What do you want, civilian?" He boomed. "You know the palace is off-limits to all but us and our invited guests." "Pardon me," Carly replied, "I'm the leader of the Medical Guild, and I wanted an audience." She thought she heard Rexus give an exasperated sigh. "Very well," he said, "You have one. What is it that you want?" "The taxes on my guild are too high, Your Radiance." Carly began. She was not fond of bowing and scraping, but she was willing to do nearly anything for the sake of her patients. Rexus, however, was unimpressed. "That's none of my concern," he said, apparently preparing to take off again. "Take it up with the Tax Collector." "I tried," Carly pleaded. "He wouldn't budge." It was true; a few days prior, she had attempted the fruitless task of warming the Tax Collector's icy heart. He had told her that he was not a charity, and that if she needed money so badly then she should "go kill a slime!" Before kicking her out of his office. "Well then, he has already make his decision!" Carly could tell the Champion was beginning to lose his patience, but she decided to try once more. "But what about the sick, and the injured?"
Rexus, it seemed, had had enough. "THEY ARE NONE OF MY CONCERN!" He roared, stomping towards her. His voice reverberated around the street, causing the guards to jump, and many of the people walking by to either stop and stare, or begin walking briskly away. "If you need the taxes lowered SO DAMNED BADLY, try getting those GREEDY, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING GOBLINS to give a decent reforging discount to the CREATORS OF THE CITY THEY LIVE IN!" He was so close to her now that Carly feared the heat from his armor would burn her skin. "But until you can accomplish that impossible task, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Carly did not need to be told twice. She hurried away down the street, but she did not go back to the hospital. Shouted in anger though they were, she heeded Rexus's words. Perhaps if she could reduce the Champions' expenses (and get the attention of one who was a tad more level-headed next time), they would be more open to the idea of lowering the taxes. Once she had reached a safe distance from the palace, she slowed her pace and started making her way to the headquarters of the Tinkers' Guild.