Logs:Investments
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 27 September, 2015 |
| Who: Edric, Rhiannon |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rhiannon and Edric formally meet - and discussions of the future are had. |
| Where: The Glass Fountain, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 12, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Foggy. |
| Mentions: E'dre/Mentions, Erinta/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, X'vin/Mentions, Z'riah/Mentions |
 |
Despite its subterranean locale, the creamy wall paint, pale woods, and
frosted glass give the cavern a light, airy feel. Oil lamps reflect softly
in the polished wood of high-backed booths, glimmering through the opaque
glass dividers that help lend intimacy to the seating arrangements;
round-backed booths carved from stone, lined with deep, terra-cotta
colored padding and the addition of strategic, lyric shapes painted in a
subtle red shade. The sweeping, half-circle shaped bar with its top of
smooth stone, backed by cut-glass-fronted cabinetry flows gracefully into
the soft lines and mellow colors that dominate the Glass Fountain.
All the atmosphere aside, the main attractions of the room are clearly the
massive, multi-pronged chandelier that hangs from multiple chains from the
ceiling and the re-worked leak - which no longer resembles a leak at all,
having been channeled through glass to become a beautiful piece of art. A
curving wave and a series of glass bubbles guide the water past a bank of
glows, allowing the light to shine through the water and turn it into a
sparkling fountain. From its dark, dim, shabby history, the Glass Fountain
has become an elegant place with lattice-stands to hold the menus with
their selection ranging from typical 'bar food' to high-end dishes and
fancy desserts. Three days past the set expiration of Edric's contract finds the former consultant in his usual haunt. As usual, the spectacled Steward has paperwork in front of him, all written in the curiously cramped short-hand of his. A mug of tea and a kettle of hot water are readily at hand, though no food has yet to manifest on his table. He's occupied - and deeply so, given the pinching of his brow and the flattening of his mouth into a bloodless line. Periodically, he makes further notes on this bit of paper or that, though such notes are terse at best. He is alone at his chosen booth - where he faces the entrance - though an empty mug rests opposite him as if he might be expecting company at some point. Rhiannon comes in and stops when she sees the chandelier, then moves closer to give it a better inspection. She seems pleased with what she sees, and lingers there for a few moments before going over to the bar to order something. As she waits she turns to look at the room's inhabitants. She's been here long enough that there's a few people she nods or waves to if their eyes meet. When her order is done - a mug of klah - she turns around to take it, and walks over to Edric's booth. "Sorry to bother you. We haven't been formerly introduced but I've seen you around. My name is Rhiannon, and I'm one of the assistant headwomen." She has not presumed to sit down, and is still standing next to the booth. Arrivals are noted as they always are, with a flicked look that doesn't detract from his otherwise neutral visage. It's only when Rhiannon approaches that the Steward straightens and gestures at the seat opposite him - and, in that gesture, moves the empty mug aside to make room. "Do not apologize," Edric responds - polite but cool, well-matched to the thin smile he offers. "I'm Edric, the Steward at Black Cliff Hold." The papers are not covered, nor is there much need - if she is the nosy sort, she'll find they're historical records of wood prices and a myriad of similar details. "Sit. Please. It is unfortunate that we are meeting under these circumstances," he continues, with a slight dip of his chin. "But. Erinta has spoken highly of you." Rhiannon sits down with a smile. She puts the mug of klah in front of her but doesn't drink yet. "She has? I'm glad of that. I've been learning a lot since I came here. I'm more used to bookkeeping for the traders but going from a group of traveling traders to staying on one place, being an assistant headwoman does let me meet a lot of people." She finally does take a sip of her klah. "I've been meaning to ask you. Sometimes when traveling I hear about Holds not treating the Weyrs well. I don't know if the bandits attacking the last tithe is a sign that they don't respect the Weyr or just a sign that they wanted to steal - but is there any goods or services that are new and desirable that could be developed that only the Weyr could do? During a pass it was fighting thread, but it seems now luxeries might be a way to go." She grins and shrugs. "I guess it's the trader in me trying to think of what the customer wants." The paperwork is stacked and set aside on the booth next to him, allowing Edric to prop his elbows on the table and lace his fingers just at his lower lip. He listens - but the light sits just so on his lenses, making it difficult to discern just where his eyes are. "There is a considerable amount to learn," he muses. "A pity we could not have met earlier. I would have been happy to teach you what I know." There's a slight pursing of his lips in thought and a barely perceptible shake of his head. "The Holds tend to forget the role that Weyrs play. When they are no longer in danger of dying from Thread, they tend to... grow lax in their duties. I suppose the bandits, or whoever they truly are, were just acting out of opportunistic greed. It wouldn't have mattered what was on that train; they were going to take it, regardless." He draws a breath, holds it, and releases it slowly. "I had proposed to the Weyrwoman that we send riders out to widen roads and fell trees - and sell those trees to the Woodcraft, but she does not seem amenable to doing so. She has had more interest in being paranoid than in ensuring the well-being of the Weyr and its people." He gestures dismissively. "There should be enough riders who remain strong in their craft to pull from- but. I would consider the Weyr being better at transport than creation, frankly. The issues with the tithe trains could be eliminated if riders carried all such goods - for a nominal fee to the Holds, of course." Rhiannon nods at what Edric is saying. "It seems like it may be a good deal for the Holds if they thought about it. They wouldn't have to pay people to travel with the tithe, or keep as many animals to pull it, chance losing people and goods to bandits, and their responsibility would end at the Hold rather than having to deliver it to us. But I was thinking less crafts than natural goods that only dragons could reach, since if they don't respect the Weyr enough, they won't necessarily agree that Weyr made goods had extra value. I'm not a herbalist, but one example would be if there was a valued spice that only dragons could get to, or like you mentioned the woodcraft, a valued type of wood only reachable by dragon. Or a beautiful vacation spot that needed a dragon to get to, but was worth it to see it. I don't know if those things exist, but it would be nice if they did." She pauses to sip her klah. "How long are you staying with us? If you need help with something while you're here, I don't mind working extra time if I'm learning new skills while I do it." It's a good trade off." "It would be," Edric agrees and straightens a little, though his hands remain where they are. "The animals are another matter, but-" a shoulder rises, just slightly, in a shrug "-it's nothing that a rider escort can't oversee." It's the rest that elicits a far more perceptible nod and a thin smile, as polite as before, of course, but just deep enough to all but touch the corners of his eyes. Fleeting, that. "That was my initial thought with the wood- however. I am fairly certain that the Weyrleader could be convinced to send a wing or two out on scouting missions to seek such things out. In a world as large as ours," he points out, "how could something like that not exist?" Rhetorical, that. He takes a pull of his tea at long last and tips his head back at her last question. "Unfortunately," is, at least, uttered in a neutral tone, "my contract expired three days ago. I have four days in which to decide whether the Weyrwoman's offer," caught in audible air quotes, that, "to either manage the Dice or become an assistant Headwoman is suitable." A beat. "But. I will be visiting from time to time. I could teach you then, but it would come with a cost." Rhiannon hmms. "Well, it makes sense that it would cost if you were visiting, and I wasn't helping you out with your work in exchange." She smiles. "Nothing comes free." She pauses to think. "So you have to decide whether to remain with your Hold, go from running a Hold to running a small part of the Weyr, or be an assistant to someone else you were more equal to before. That can't be an easy choice. Would you at least not be called assistant headwoman?" She smiles again. "Unless you like gambling, in which case you might be suited to the Dice. I haven't explored there yet. I'm more frugal with my funds." "Oh, no. She made it quite clear that I would have less access to things than I had previously," Edric replies, though he - to his credit - keeps things mild and wryly amused rather than bitter. "I would be considered an assistant Headwoman - though I suppose it might be Headman instead, unless she felt especially spiteful." A roll of his eyes follows, but it carries no malicious weight; just a sense of mild exasperation. "And I applaud your frugality. I am very much the same way. I am not entirely against risky ventures - but there are some risks that I am just not willing to make. Running a gambling den would be- mm. Distasteful, at best." His hands drop, just at the moment a server arrives with a plate of mixed pastries - some sweet, some savory - and a couple of smaller plates to divide them amongst. "I suspect she simply does not trust me enough and is fully intent on running me off from the Weyr that she successfully ran into the ground, financially." Matter-of-fact, that. "Regardless," he gestures and loops things around, "we can discuss my rate at another time, once this business is settled." Rhiannon frowns a little. "So if you took the assistant position, if you think that you don't have a great relationship with the Weyrwoman, it's unlikely you'll get promoted if there's an opening. Because sometimes taking a lower position if it has room to grow might be better in the long run. I don't envy you the choices." She stops with the mug almost to her lips. "All those measures that you've helped to implement, will they get us out of our problems or are they only going to ease things, or slow the progression? This is my new home, and I don't want to see it in trouble." "She asked if I was going to "metaphorically burn the Weyr down" when I left," is remarked with a measure of incredulity. Edric snorts and starts selecting pastries, with a motion to her to indulge in the same. "The budget recommendations," he replies after a beat, "should see the Weyr reaching financial solvecy in-" some quick mental math is made "-approximately four to six months from now. They were initially harsher to accelerate the process, but the Weyrleaders declined to trust in their people's resiliency to endure discomfort for a few months. Provided they maintain the budget as it is, all should be well in short order." One corner of his mouth distorts, pulling into a line that's darkly amused. "I doubt it will stand once I'm gone." Rhiannon smiles at the first part. "I'm glad that we'll be back on track. And if Erinta has worked well with you, you might be wrong and she may keep doing the good business practices you have helped implement. Or at least I hope so, since going through hardship for nothing would be absolutely pointless." She shrugs with a smile. "Maybe an exploration of the world will help find *something* to help, though there's no point in leaving all the hope there." She takes one of the pastries with a "Thank you," before adding, "What is your Hold like? Do you prefer it to the Weyr or do you only want to stay because you don't want all your work to be in vain?" He doesn't eat - not yet - but Edric is taking his time to meticulously organize the pastries on his plate. "I will hope that she is canny enough to keep things on an even keel," he replies. "She is quite capable as Headwomen go." Another sip of tea follows - after a quick wipe of fingers on a napkin. "It would be worth your while to recommend that exploration to the Weyrleader," he notes. "The riders are his realm - and if he's on board with the idea, then it shouldn't take much to get the rest to follow." One of the rolls is split apart and spread with butter from a tiny dish on the larger plate. A deep breath is drawn and released, while his lips purse in thought. "It is home. I've been the Steward at Black Cliff Hold for about a decade now - and, unless there is something compelling to keep me anywhere else, that's what I imagine I'll be doing until the end of my days. The Hold is prosperous and strong; the people are good people. The Weyr is different and I have my reasons to want to stay- but I have to weigh the desire to stay against the cost of working with those who do not trust me to do the job." Rhiannon nods. "Though can they say they don't trust you, if your recommendations work? Once they see the good results?" She smiles as Edric talks about his Hold. "That's one of the reasons I decided to leave the traders and settle somewhere. I didn't have one place that I called home. In a way that was a good thing, because home was where my family was so it was more about the people than the place. But sometimes it's nice to be invested in a place as well. As for the suggestion to the Weyrleader, do you think it's my place or should I go through the Headwoman? She might feel that I have overstepped." There's another shake of his head and Edric finally takes a bite of something. Chew. Swallow. Sip of tea. Then: "I'm sure she will, regardless of how things go. She'll suspect that I've left something horrible in my wake that will go off long after I'm gone." Snort. The topic is dismissed after that, while he settles into listening and eating his light breakfast. "Mm. Yes. Fort Weyr, despite its faults, is a fine place to be invested in. You should do well here, if you can keep your eyes open and be aware." As for the last, there's a thoughtful pause and furrowing of his brow before: "For you, that might be wise. Speak with Erinta first. I would recommend writing the proposal up, in case she would prefer to speak with the Weyrleader directly. That way your words are not distorted accidentally - and to ensure that credit is given as it is due, should the venture be successful." Rhiannon shrugs with a smile. "I don't care *too* much about credit if it works, though it doesn't hurt to have a good reputation when it comes to receiving duty assignments. I figure I won't have a lot of upward movement for a long time since I'm the newest of several assistants. And if you took the position you should rightly be above me in seniority due to your experience. But in spite of what some think, it would probably be good for the Weyr to have someone with such experience with the financials." "It's important," Edric emphasizes. "If only to prove to Erinta and the Weyrleadership that you are precisely what this Weyr needs." A beat. "Which is someone who can think of ways to make this into more than just a home for dragons and into a significant, money-making venture." He spreads his hands, palm up, over the table. "All the more reason that I should train you. They don't have anyone else who can handle the heavier accounting duties." Back to the tea, then, but only to finish off the last dregs of it. "Perhaps you might be able to talk sense into the Weyrwoman where I have not," might be a joke of some sort, but it's hard to tell. "Regardless. If you ever need to speak with me and I'm not here, seek out either X'vin or Z'riah. They'll know how to reach me." Rhiannon smiles and nods. "Thank you, you're right. It's a small chance of success, but if I don't bring it up, then it'll definitely fail. And that's what I was actually thinking - that the Weyr needed to to to find ways to make money since they can't rely on Thread to give people a reason to think they need us. Not that they don't need the Weyr, because Thread will fall again eventually." She shakes her head with a frown. "If I ever have children, I'd want to make sure they had a better life than I, and they should do the same for their children. It's short sighted to think the bad we do now won't effect the generations to come." She smiles at Edric. "Thank you, I will talk to them if I need to, and once you figure out what path you're going on, we'll talk again about that training. I'm looking forward to improving." "Mm. Good. Let me know how it turns out; I might be able to assist in some small measure." Perhaps. Edric finishes up his breakfast and gathers his paperwork in an arm, leaving the rest of the pastry plate in her care. "You have admirable goals, Rhiannon," and there is weight given to that name; purpose of some sort. "You have intelligence and a good heart. Do not squander any of those things; invest wisely." He slides out of the booth and rises with a dip of his head in her direction. "We'll be in touch. For now, I have work to do. Be well." He isn't the sort to linger or look back when he departs - and he does not do so now, leaving Rhiannon to her own devices. Rhiannon smiles. "I will, thank you. I'll use the advice you've given me and hope to have a chance to get more in the future." She watches Edric go, and sits quietly sipping the rest of her klah as she thinks. |
Leave A Comment