Sern approached the building, staring upwards in awe, eying the facade that depicted scenes of wealth. The massive structure may not have rivaled the Avirran's spectacular buildings, but this spectacle in front if him was impressive nonetheless due to how primitive the technology was that built it. This construct had stood from before the time of steam, and would continue to touch the sky for years to come.
Sern entered the massive doors, entering a temple, not to any god, but to money. It was a huge monument to greed and power, glorifying both the good and the bad wealth brings with them. The building was a bank, a stock exchange, and an auction house all in one. It was where all commerce and trading happened inside Anton, and it was the beating heart of a society built on industry. Here, the wealthy merchants came to sell their wares to the poorest if men, and here also the poorest of men peddled their wares to the richest merchants.
But Sern was not here for he idyllic musings. He was here for metal, and lots if it. The high council had ordered some Engines be converted to ferrying gods across the land, and such a task required metal if all kinds. Sern walked and walked, moving confidently through the varied and breathtaking rooms. Voices rasping and fair lilted through the air, and money could be heard everywhere, clattering, rustling and clinking. Finally, Sern arrived at his destination: a young man named Jaf. Jaf was a merchant who dealer in minerals and the refining thereof, and was the go-to guy for anyone looking for iron, steel or bronze. Jaf was speaking to a young woman, clearl trying to seduce her but failing miserably. The courtship ended when the woman slapped Jaf and ran away, causing him to turn away in disgust. As he rotated, he caught sight of Sern and approached him.
"My goodman! What brings an engineer like you to the Aseab? Looking for something... Illicit?" He stressed the final word, clearly implying prostitution.
"Just metal, Jaf." While The young man could be amusing, Sern was not in the mood to play games. "Quickly."
"I know just the place. How about, say, 20 Ans for a ton?"
"20!? You've lost your mind! Highest I'm going is 7!" Sern nearly walked away right the , but realized Jaf was his only hope.
"16. Final offer." They haggled this way for hours, until a deal was struck.
"It's a deal then," Jaf said, shaking Sern's hand. "Thigh I can still get you those prostitutes. I know a guy."