Logs:A Paranoid Lot
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| RL Date: 26 September, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, Edric |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Edric has proposals. Hattie has counter proposals. |
| Where: The Glass Fountain, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 12, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: E'dre/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions |
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| It's just past midday - and while many of the Weyr's people are enjoying their lunch in the living cavern, there are those who enjoy slightly richer fare. Edric is seated comfortably in one of the booths, facing the entrance - but it doesn't appear that he's especially interested in the comings and goings. A bottle of fine wine - a Benden red, predictably - is at his table, his glass is half full, and no plate has yet to manifest before him. He's currently flipping through some paperwork, his expression neutral, save for the slight furrowing of his brow at something or another. At the very least, it's relatively quiet and peaceful - and there will be food, eventually, which marks it as a slight improvement over doing this in his quarters. Hattie might not be known for finding time to eat, but she's been known on more than one occasion to briefly visit the Fountain and spend a few minutes at the bar with a glass of something or other. This afternoon must be one of those afternoons, since she doesn't look terribly happy as she moves past tables and heads for the bar to claim the glass that's appeared within moments of her arrival, the understanding that passes between Weyrwoman and barman a silent one, comprised of a nod and payment set down on the bar top without comment. She wastes no time today; measure downed, she turns to survey her surroundings and begins to step back the way she came. A tilt of the head and a flicker of muted light across spectacles marks the first real movement of Edric's head. He waits until the Weyrwoman's ordered her drink and appears to be studying the space before he lifts a hand in a beckoning motion. "Ah, Weyrwoman. Afternoon." The call is measured and appropriately pitched, paired with one of his familiar - if barely there - smiles. "Please. Sit," is followed by a gesture to the seat opposite. "If only for a few minutes." A beat, then: "I have a slice of redfruit cake on the way - and the portions here are always- ah. Generous." He is not, however, making much move to get the paperwork out of the way; rather, he's deftly moving through the documents to find just the ones he needs. Hattie's steps slow as she nears Edric, and though she does reach a halt beside the booth in which he sits, she isn't quick to seat herself, and instead regards him with a narrowing of her eyes that might be the prelude to a refusal. However, after taking a rather audibly deep breath, she sweeps her skirts together and neatly slips along to settle herself across from him, spine rigid and hands folded in her lap. "What is it that I can help you with?" she questions, her expression mostly unreadable - and maybe beginnings of the drink to thank for that. There's the smile again - but deeper, if subtly so - and Edric dips his chin. "Thank you," is, perhaps, purely for the fact that she did sit. "In the wake of the tithing incident, I wanted to propose two things before I left. The first is a recommendation to have riders dedicated to escorting tithes from start to finish as a deterrent to those who might try such things again." A beat, just long enough for the words to be processed and not answered - then: "The second, however, might be of greater benefit to the Weyr as a whole. Widening the roads and clearing the forest to either side of them, to be precise." There's more, there's always more, but he lets that settle properly, while a server finally arrives with that slice of cinnamon-and-redfruit cake, topped with a dollop of spiced - and rum-spiked - cream and with two forks. "We've had riders watch over tithe trains before and check in with them during sweeps," Hattie replies, less crisp than matter of fact. "If in a less formal capacity than you're suggesting, if I understand correctly. In general..." She has the grace to seem briefly rueful, lips twisting as she glances away, "the wings aren't mine to organise and command, but I can suggest it to the Weyrleader, unless you'd like to discuss the matter with him yourself." Of the second matter, she hesitates before giving a slow shake of her head, not exactly a refusal, but considering. "We might call a significant amount of land our 'territory' or coverage area, but the fact is that that kind of widespread work isn't the Weyr's prerogative to carry out." "That is my understanding - and Black Cliff has, on occasion, had need for such escorts in the past." Edric purses his lips thoughtfully. "A formal arrangement, however, might help assuage concerns about the safety of the tithe trains - and ensure that the Weyr can intervene far more quickly if there is an issue." The suggestion is met with a slight inclination of his head. "If you would speak with him, it would be appreciated." It's the latter that has him straightening up - impossibly, given that his posture is just as stiff as the Weyrwoman's own. "Handling the road situation will be beneficial. In part, it will show the Holds that the Weyr is truly concerned about the safety of the trains and would like to ensure their safe passage. And, if the trees are felled properly, we may be able to sell them to the Woodcraft for a tidy profit as well. Or," he gestures airily, "to any other craft that might have need of the wood, for that matter. It would take some time to organize and coordinate, of course, but I would be more than happy to take that task on-" a beat "-if the project is one you approve of." "I don't argue that it might be beneficial to some extent, but not every holder is going to want that kind of work carried out. It won't solely be about the tithe trains; not to everyone." Hattie shrugs one shoulder, the motion more a gesture to serve as punctuation than dismissive. "Fort's ties with the Woodcraft are positive enough, thanks to N'muir. If the holders were to be asked for their input and the work carried out - and this is before environmental factors and the need for future resources are considered - I don't believe it would take as much as you're suggesting." She waits a moment before posing, "Your contract was to officially expire today. Why is it that you want a reason to stay? Does your hold not pay you enough already?" And, with that, she directs the point of one index finger to the wine. "I'd be happy to meet with the Holders in the region and discuss the matter with them," Edric responds. "If there are those who do not wish it - then their roads will be left untouched. A deal would, ideally, be brokered in advance with the Woodcraft and they could offer their input and insights into the environmental aspects and future resources. It would still take time - six months, perhaps, including the work itself. Perhaps a turn, if there are complications." It's the latter that elicits the slow rise of an eyebrow - though the rest of his expression remains schooled and unreadable. "Black Cliff pays me well enough for my time," is true enough. Yet: "But. The Weyr paid for my loyalty until the end of today, Weyrwoman. I intend to serve the Weyr's best interests until then. And if that contract is extended - then you would have my loyalty until the termination of that contract." His fingers steeple, wrists rested on the table as he leans back slightly. "Of course, if you would prefer I leave, I will certainly respect that decision." "If you're suggesting that you will metaphorically burn everything in your wake when midnight arrives, I can ensure that you are gone well before then," Hattie says coolly. "I do hope that's not what you're trying to convey." She leans back in her seat, propping one elbow almost behind her. "I'm not interested in buying loyalty. Lilah may have had other ideas, and the next Weyrwoman to follow me may have different views yet, but I won't bind this Weyr to supposed lengths of trust." A glance towards the bar accompanies a too casual, "If you wish, you may remain full-time and work formally as one of Erinta's assistants, with the expectation that your first priority is Fort. You wouldn't have the same access to our records and files as you have of late, however." She directs a long look back at Edric when she adds, "And we're seeking a new manager for Dice, if you might find it not so beneath you. If neither is worth consideration, you may keep a room here for any visits you wish to make, but that will be that." "You truly are a paranoid lot, aren't you?" Musing, that, and paired with a chuckle. Edric folds up the neat collection of paperwork and sets it aside, only to resume his earlier posture - this time leaning forward. "Do you truly think that all of the work I've done has been to set this Weyr up for failure? Erinta is competent," confident, that, and note-worthy only for the weight on the word, "and the rest of her assistants and crew are better trained to assist her. Everyone can be loyal to anything - for a price. That price may be tangible. It might not. Mine, fortunately, is purely financial - and I will move Belior and Timor to ensure this Weyr is financially solvent within the next four or five months." But the offers are made and, to his credit, the unreadability remains - even as he starts to rise. "I will have an answer for you at the end of this seven." "I have a lot of people to protect. If I weren't paranoid, I might let anyone get away with anything and believe every word that anyone says." It's not self-deprecation, and, from Hattie's tone, it's not even necessarily directed at Edric. "I might not have much of a heart, but I still struggle to find genuine meaning in working solely for financial gain or security. You may well state that that is why this Weyr is not geared towards making marks." And yet she is unrepentant. "Loyalty may be bought by one person, then bought out by another." Is that what she's concerned about? At any rate, she too begins to excuse herself, unwilling to be left alone in a booth she hasn't claimed. "But thank you. I would appreciate that." The Weyrwoman straightens her skirts. "For today, I imagine you'll have any borrowed records returned and relinquish your keys, of course." The nod that follows must be her farewell; it's all she offers before she departs, after all. |
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