Logs:Suggestions
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| RL Date: 4 October, 2015 |
| Who: E'dre, Edric |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: E'dre and Edric meet. They talk business - sort of. |
| Where: The Glass Fountain, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 12, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Boring. |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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>---< The Glass Fountain, Fort Weyr(#533RJs$) >------------------------------<
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. It's roughly mid-day and the day after the temporary consultant's contract was set to expire. And, yet, the man lingers, in a sense. His presence in the lower caverns is still strong, as he's busy tying up some loose ends - free of charge, presumably. Some might well be whispering about his meeting with Hattie in this very place just the day before, but not when the man himself is around. Which, conveniently, is the case: he's not at the bar but, rather, seated in his usual booth, with a kettle of hot water, a tin of loose tea, and a mug of tea readily at hand. Another mug - left empty - is across from him. He's reviewing some file or another, with an occasional glance up at the entrance as people pass by, in, or out. Nothing to eat for him - not yet, anyway - just the lingering dregs of work to be done between sips of his drink. It's nearing lunch time when a group of Hematite rider's head into the Fountain. They've stripped off most of their riding gear but the smudge of soot and dirt still mar features and the leathers they're wearing show they've come recently from drills. E'dre laughs as he listens to something one of the brownrider's tells him and shakes his head. He eyes Edric in passing and then thinks better of joining his group. "Order me a klah and something for lunch," he tells the brownrider with a clap to her shoulder before he turns and slides into the booth opposite Edric. "I hadn't thought I'd see you still here," the Acting Weyrleader opens with a cautious smile. "Are you waiting for a train to take you back?" There's just the barest tilt of Edric's head, enough to send light skittering over his lenses - and then the man straightens. The smile that's offered is thin - but unfailingly polite - and paired with a slight dip of his chin. "Ah. Weyrleader. A pleasure." His paperwork is neatly stacked and set aside, though a glance will betray that it appears to be something or another to do with Fort Weyr and inventory. Red marks and question marks litter the document on top. "Would you care for some tea?" A beat is there to allow an answer before he, in turn, answers with a mild, "I told the Weyrwoman that I would have an answer for her offer by the end of this seven." Hands splay, palm up, over the table before they lace together and rest there. "One of your fine riders will be taking me back if that's the decision I've made. He will be well-compensated for his service, if that is an issue." E'dre shakes his head over the offer for tea, tossing a glance over his shoulder and the group he's departed from. "I'll join them shortly for my food and drink," he tells the man as he swings his gaze back over to him. "She told me briefly about it," he answers, gaze drifting towards the stacks of records on the table. "I figured since you enjoyed dictating the use or non-use of marks, that you'd have agreed to stay on and run Dice." "Mm." Edric slants a glance in that direction, then fixes his gaze on E'dre once more. "You mistake me for a man who enjoys seeing people throw good marks after bad." One corner of his mouth distorts with sardonic humor. "It turns my stomach to bear witness to people who are willing to throw their marks away for the chance at, possibly, making something back on their dubious investment." He shakes his head and takes a pull of his tea. "No. If I were in charge of that particular establishment, I would gut it and transform it into something I could stomach." That perks the Acting's interest. "Oh?" he queries, lifting a brow, "and what would that be? Dice brings in a fair amount of marks both from ours here at Fort and visitors who come for that great opportunity of earning more for nothing more than a won game of chance." The brownrider has never been seen in Dice recently and likely, if asked, most would comment that they have never seen E'dre within the establishment. "If it did half as well as you imply," Edric counters, "then the Weyr wouldn't currently be where it is, now would it." Observation, that. "Dice is a poor man's Bitra. And, from what I have seen of the place, it is..." There are no words for it, frankly; his expression briefly goes sour, judgment writ large for just a fleeting moment. "No. There are plenty of options that might do as well - if not better. An art gallery for Weyr artists to display and sell their wares; an auction house, a theater - of sorts," though he gestures a bit vaguely here; there's something at work, but he doesn't delve too deeply into it. "Regardless. It's all hypothetical at this point. It would take far more to do than the other project I proposed to the Weyrwoman." E'dre shakes his head at each suggestion the other man makes. "Unless we want to start a crafter revolution within the Weyr, I see no profit to be had with things that one would normally find within the Halls." He leans back against the booth, stretching one arm up and out against the top of the seat. "What about the other project? All I am aware of is that she was kind enough to offer you an assistant position here." He seems at his ease with this casual interrogation of Edric though no smile ever makes its way forward during the course of this conversation. "Ah, yes. Because Crafters who are still with their Craft are the only ones who can produce things of value." One of Edric's eyebrows lifts slightly, but it settles shortly after. The topic, then, is dismissed with a small, curt gesture, and his fingers lace again on the table. "I had suggested that Fort Weyr work with the Holds to assist in widening the roads - and with the Woodcraft, to both clear some of the forest to either side of the road and potentially sell the wood to them or any other craft that has need of raw wood. It would rely heavily on your riders, admittedly, but it would serve as a show of good faith to the Holds that Fort Weyr is willing to do what it takes to prevent another tithe-related debacle of that sort." E'dre laughs at Edric's statement about crafters, "I made enough marks in my younger turns selling outside the Weavercraft to know it can be. I was simply making a statement that going to such lengths seemed unprofitable to me." He puffs out a sigh and shakes his head at the mention of working further with the Holds. "Always this 'show of good faith' to the Holds. Or moving towards helping them. It seems to me, we more than earn what little tithes they send these days. I see no purpose in assisting them further." "Unless Thread starts falling again," Edric notes in deadpan, "it is an unfortunate reality that the Weyr will have to continue earning their tithes, as it were. Clearing the forest, even a mere ten or twenty feet in either direction, would give the Weyr plenty of resource leverage to trade with the Crafts - and a significant sum of marks to help the Weyr's finances recover." He settles back, head tipped just a touch up. "Even though I am not on the Weyr's payroll," as of a day ago, but it's technically true, "I do want to see it succeed - and thrive. I want to see the Weyr turn into a money-making venture that does not have to rely on the Holds for its survival." There's a shrewd glance given to Edric with his statement of the obvious. "If we are to not survive off of the Holds in a traditional sense of getting what we are due for the services we already supply them, you're suggesting we pander ourselves to them as day laborers instead?" He shakes his head and hefts himself out of the booth. "You say a great deal about how this Weyr should run to the man who is currently running it," he comments, giving Edric a long look. "I find that more telling than anything else." He tips his head towards Edric, "I'll leave you to your lunch or whatever it is you were doing here." An indulgent smile emerges, if slowly, and Edric muses, "I've said nothing about how it should run - nor how I would run it. I've offered suggestions and my hopes for the Weyr, nothing more." With E'dre rising, however, he deigns to remain seated - and simply sends the other man off with a nod and a not-so-subtly weighted, "Good day, Acting Weyrleader." E'dre's eyes flash at Edric's tone though he does nothing more than turn and head towards his group. If the meal and company don't seem to hold his interest as much as the man at the table does, well - that is only to be expected. |
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