Franky poured Florian some water from a sealed, corked bottle. This water was chilled in Franky's ice box, but it was some of the cleanest, purest mineral water. Franky bought it from a Moratallen that lived in the caves who controlled a spring down there. The water that flowed through Zaichaer's plumbing was enough to sustain life, but it tasted of iron and coal. The pure water was a necessity, Franky felt, for the cooking and drink making here, but more over, it created a standout impression for people.
As for the Imperial Bitter, Franky deftly tapped a fresh keg, without so much as losing a drop in the process. While Florian's water was in a glass so as to hold the chill and display the brilliance of its clarity, Brenner's was put into a ceramic mug, of the light loamy color of the common mugs back in the Imperium. Many of these mugs were seasoned over generations of drinking, adding to and holding and otherwise enhancing the flavor of drinks across time. Franky gave it a smooth pour, a girthy head on it, the distinct color that always made it easy to identify the Imperial.
He set the drinks down from the right for both men, then sat down himself. Brenner slipped into the Imperial tongue and Franky's focus shifted automatically to match. Franky wondered why Brenner bothered to introduce the Kathalan tongue at all if his companion couldn't understand it. Was it an attempt to bond or show shared heritage? Regardless, Franky would've scoffed had it been anyone in a less influential position. It was a disingenuous attempt to find common ground with someone unknown.
Franky sipped his mead, moving past the attempt without skipping a beat. Let the politician take the lead. No need to compete with him. He came to Franky, after all. He felt that either Franky was necessary, or at the very least, cost effective. That was fine by Franky. Practical even. Franky knew what his own value was, after all. It was, in his opinion, the most important piece of information to know about one's self.
Franky listened closely as Brenner spoke. Let the silver tongues speak volumes, he'd learn more while silent. The new regime wanted to unite the city against magic, not "magic races". Franky certainly found no fault there. He was more than willing to live a life without magic being involved. He'd seen his fair share of what magic could do, both in the hands of civilians and when being controlled by the government.
Some powers were best left to no person.
Then came the eye twitch. Franky had played more than enough poker to recognize that tell. This was a man coming begrudgingly but for, at face value, a good reason. Franky could only assume that this man was probably just as bigoted as many of the Zaichaeri humans, but held his patriotism higher than his racism.
Better than most.
If this man could come hat in hand and swallow his racial pride, Franky could help him, to help himself and the people of the Knob. After all, they shared the pathway to different goals. His face was not the jovial, warm, and comforting one that Florian had known in their limited actions. No. This was the one he bore in the Imperium, serious, deep lines of age and scarring.
"This platform is growing. People love to follow a hero, and a successful one at that. I'm sure some of your neighbors have managed to find a copy of the paper through their housekeepers and carriage drivers." Franky's hand left his mug and his fingers interlaced atop the table as he straightened up. Habits from the military once more.
"But in order to better help the state, the people on this side of Willowby Road will need help from the state. In the name improving the lives of all Zaichaeri loyalists." Franky gave a hard gaze into Brenner's eyes, "If you truly wish to have the whole of Zaichaer against magic and those who wield it to harm the people here, then you need to ensure that magic is the biggest concern of the people. Not by inflating it into an unbeatable monster that only a hero can slay. No. When you have children who are starving, the worries of magic are deafened. When you worry that by walking to work while bearing the face such as mine," then he nodded to Florian, "Or his, you'll be accosted and assaulted by those called protectors of the state, magic is never on your mind, except as a means to end your own suffering, through escape or revolution."
Franky decided it was time for a pitch, one he'd been setting up for a while since his discussion with the Bank a while back. He hadn't expected it to be now, but Fortune had brought this to his doorstep. He had to seize it. "The people of the Knob and the Grungeworks do not want handouts. Handouts make people weak. Soft. Make them see enemies where there are allies." The harsh line of his mouth upturned to the slightest smile, "But perhaps we can offer them opportunity. I can get the bank to fund projects within the Knob and Grungeworks, to create more work and wealth for the people here, to elevate them beyond the lowest service class and permanent entry level work for the regime."
Franky relaxed his posture now, "If the state is prepared to help push forward some public works as well, the Bank will see the area to be even more ripe for investment opportunity." Franky stood up slowly, "If you'll indulge me."
He walked over to the bar, poured a clear flagon of the local tap water. A few particulates, the smell of iron, and he set it between his seat and Brenner's. "Did you notice the bumps in the road on your way over? The streets are in disrepair because the state hasn't fixed them since they were first cobbled. And no company here is wealthy enough to be able to do it themselves for the people and still survive. And while the bumps might seem like a mild annoyance to the aesthetics of some, they represent the potential loss of wheels, wagons, goods and time to the people here trying to make an honest go of it." He gestured to the water, "If this was served at a meeting of government officials and the wealthy on the other side of town, what might they think?"
His smile upturned more, "What I propose is this. Create an agency tasked with improving the public works and utilities of the Knob and the Grungeworks. Make the head of this agency a human to soften the blow to those who might struggle with this... Age of Integration, but give them a council of non-human advisors and aides. I will serve as one of these councilors, to help guide the improvement of these areas. I will work with the Bank to invest in more private ventures to continue to raise the lives of those here."
Franky leaned back in his chair, "Give the people something more to lose and they'll fight for whatever you wish. Food in their belly, a home of their own, happy and healthy children, they will have all the time and focus in the world to worry about the dangers and evils of magic."
The grin softened just a bit, "And I'd recommend removing the unofficial ban on promoting non-humans within the government and military. Allow them to earn their way. Nepotism is a slow killing poison, and the previous regime was full of it, with the wealthy families and the racial bias."
Franky sat back upright, "These things would certainly be looked very favorably upon by the population, especially when well represented in my platform. Selling honey is far easier when it is real."