The events of the 10th of Limestone, 1064
The Council had been called to assembly once more, though due to the increased size it had been moved from Aryn's study to the Duke's. Even though it wasn't their room, Aryn was the first to arrive, followed seconds later by a harried looking Glacies, carrying three separate ledgers with him, each near to bursting out of their leather straps. Bertrand, at the insistence of The Duke, showed up next, though the old man took a seat in the corner, more concerned with the tome he brought then any sort of meeting that may be going on. Crowpages the Tax Collector, Duke Bomrek and his Wife, and lastly Hammerer Wavepaddles all arrived, taking their seats at the long rectangular table.
"What do we do about the Leopardknight Brat?" Aryn said, starting the meeting off with a familiar tone.
"He probably should be drafted," The Duke said with his usual pomp. "The military's size is shrinking, we need a fresh body to plug the holes, what?"
"If you're serious about this quarry getting finished any time soon, perhaps he should apply for entry in the Miners Union. One of the miners..." There was a shuffling of papers as Glacies opened one of the notebooks, looking through what was before him, "Cog something-or-other was found trampled to death, leaving the project two bodies less than it had started the year with. I recommend he be shifted in that direction."
Aryn just scowled at the two who had spoken, fingers steepled in front of him. He glanced towards Crowpages, who was twirling her golden beard, waxed to a neat point, around her finger. "Regardless of the choice you decide, Sir, Young Master Leopardknight will be a tax-paying member of this community. It shouldn't matter where he goes. If he works, we may skim a tidy some. If he doesn't work, he'll be living on the charity of his father."
A knock at the door silenced what Aryn was about to say, and he growled out a sharp, "Enter!", much to the chagrin of the rooms owner. Rice stepped in, prospectors cap held politely over his chest. Behind him came The Stranger, the gaunt figure that had walked out of the wastes, and the man Aryn had spent nearly two weeks trying to avoid.
"Aryn, sir, it's been a long time, and Mr..." He paused, and the man stepped forward, doing his odd, low bow.
"Rolland of Monom Ros. Long days, and pleasant nights, Sai Estetar."
"He knows my name. How does he know my name?" Aryn asked, scowling at the others around the room.
"Well, I told him, sir," Rice confessed, frowning as Aryn's displeasure was turned on him.
"I've come to offer my services, if it's Ka's will. I've traveled many wheels to arrive here, and though my quarry evades, perhaps a respite will offer that foul wizard a false sense of security."
"Can you wield a pick?" Aryn asked as he leaned back.
"Or hammer and tong?" Chimed in Crowpages.
"Prey, you said, lad?" The Duke said, grinning. "I've heard the talk of you, from the boys in the mess, say you're chasing some ... Blacked Goblin. You know. I Once tracked down a whole horde of-"
"Would you shut up!" Glacies and Aryn yelled at once. The Duke sank into sullen silence as the two exchanged a glance. Glacies added a hasty "sir" and made to look through his notes, while Aryn gestured with an impatient circling of his fingers for Rolland to speak.
"A Boltslinger is versed in many things, though none as well as the trade of Death. The abominations that filled this desert would drive even the most stout of Dwarves to madness. I'd offer my 'bow to thee, Sai, to try and help purge these horrors."
Hammerer Wavepaddles leaned forward, her face partially shrouded by the hood. She rarely spoke, but when she did in her cold, emotionless voice, the others in the council were apt to listen. "It seems to me that one who offers service requires little in pay. You've asked for meals and drink, and a warm bed. You spoke nothing of gold. Does it not interest you."
"Only as a means to an end, Sai Hammerer. I have no wont for riches, that is not my quest."
"Then it seems that the price of a Hired Crossbow is much cheaper than our home-grown defenses."
"Are you suggesting..." Aryn began.
"Ohh, oh, Miss Wavepaddles, very clever," Crowpages said with a grin, continuing to twist her beard.
"Rice," Glacies said, scribbling furiously on an already full page. "Go fetch Sparrow. He's to take on an apprenticeship to Mr. Dayschain. When telling him... neglect to inform him of what the pay is, would you kindly?"
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OOC: dingdingding, Gantolandon's hit the nail on the head!
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Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 389453 times)