Isuelt stood tall before the double doors of the entrance hall. The winter wind was whipping through the foyer without mercy nor preference.

"You may speak with me, if you would like," she stepped back, the crimson robes about her ankles moved sharply against the wind. "Please, come in and warm yourself. My name is Isuelt DeRomiano," a strong arm gestured toward one of the reception rooms to the right.

The dark-haired Judge at first had trouble placing 'Anastas Iskandorj, Chairman of the Social Unity Party of Rhydin'. She was sure, however, that this man would elaborate once his teeth had presumably stopped chattering.

A shrewd expression came over the Judge's features. "You wish to pay us for the law enforcement work we do in this city?" It was a novel concept to her; not only had no one ever offered to pay the Scathachians for their services in the WestEnd and the rest of Rhydin, but the Scathachians had never asked to be paid. "And for backing your candidate for the upcoming mayoral race?" This sounded more like the good-old Rhydinian motives. Isuelt and most of the other Scathachians had never really had much use for politics. Politics, to her, were something that blocked real results from happening. With the exception of the High Circle back on the Island, Isuelt couldn't name a single Sister who fancied the bureaucratic game of tag that was named "politics."

"Well, uh, Mr. Ambani, I can promise you that while Scathachians are not above voting, I am unsure as to whether or not all of them would publicly proclaim one candidate as better than the other. Perhaps if you dealt with us on an individual basis? I will pass the word to my Sisters, if you'd like." She paused just then and drew a breath, gathering her thoughts in order to convey her point accurately, "I also think that any monies offered for us simply doing our Goddess-given job would not sway a Judge one way or the other." She was not sure if she was surmising a matter that was not there; still, it was always better to be sure.

Her words were carefully chosen from here on out. Brute force was something Isuelt understood, but politics wasn't her strong point. She'd hate to think that something she said now could be possibly misconstrued at a later time.

"I...think we could," slowly she began, "If we had more resources of course we could cover more ground. And cover it in a shorter amount of time." A near scoff, "Plus, time off would come back into our vocabulary."

"Look, all we want, what I think all anyone in this city wants, is a leader who will stand up for what they believe in and not get sidetracked. We need someone who will acknowledge the problems in this city and then do something about them." She shrugged, "I guess any candidate is as good as the next. It's when they become an elected official that the real test starts."

Perhaps it was time to start thinking about payment? After all, the Scathachians were using their own resources (not to mention their own bodies) to aid the town. While it was part of their vow to defend the defenseless, and all, what was wrong with a little payback?

With her thick arms folded over her chest, the tall woman studied the man before her. It was several moments before she came to her decision.

Her dark head nodded slowly, "All right." Simply said, with the weight of her word behind it. How could she say 'no' indeed? With the amount of help that the Scathachians were craving, this offer couldn't hurt. And even if it did, for whatever reason, Isuelt felt confident that she could handle any political or other ramifications that might come.

"Mister Ambani, I think you've landed yourself a deal. We will begin to keep track of our supplies. I can't promise you anything before the end of the month, unless you'd like to see our expenditures weekly?" Her hands dropped to her hips, strangely curved where usually there stood the hilts of blades, "I hope your Anastas Iskandorj is all that you say he is." She allotted the man a small smile as she made her way toward him, her right hand outstretched.