“Are you fucking serious?” Handy couldn’t see the point in trying to be polite. The uniformed griffon in the wooden toll box was unfazed, still staring straight ahead with dull grey eyes and a bored expression as if Handy wasn’t a tall bastard right in front of him, blocking out the light of day. Of all the things he had expected to encounter in the city of Ironcrest, obstructive bureaucracy was honestly bottom of the list.