[Memory] Classical Literature

[Thomas]

22 Ash 4619

The four kingdoms of Radenor were full of wonder and splendor, but Thomas had never really enjoyed traveling through any of them. Originally hailing from Grisic, he couldn't help but feel that the good citizens of the four kingdoms were hopelessly behind the times. He appreciated that they were suspicious of magic and that mages were kept under watch. This seemed sensible to him, especially compared to the barbarism of Daravin, and he felt safer here.

Unfortunately, that was the most enthusiasm he could muster for Sheorlund, Vestria, Jorikford and Northradica. The people were insular, clannish, and suspicious, which he didn't mind overly much, but also poor, which was a problem. Selling novelties and sundries only worked if people had extra coin to spare, and many of the communities here were too close to being in poverty for him to make any coin. The one time he'd gone all in on selling a farming community a special over-wintering fertilizer, he'd come to regret it. Since then, one of his principles was to avoid conning people who didn't have a nice soft cushion of money to land on unless it was a matter of survival, in which case all bets were off.

Radenor was not without its uses as a region, though. For one thing, there were plenty of artisans in guilds all over the The Great Valley, many of them practicing the traditional ways of doing things that had long since fallen out of favor in places that were less backwards. He'd worked with a scribe based out of an otherwise unassuming little town on creating a forged illuminated manuscript years ago, then sold it to a grasping Valran in Daravin who thought that in the lines of looping, untranslatable script were secrets of the old empire. In truth, it was just a bunch of recipes from a Grician cookbook that he'd scrambled into a simple substitution cipher and then transliterated into Gentaverese but add enough mystic looking symbols onto things and exciting drawings of occult gatherings and, well, people filled in what they wanted to believe.

It had been worth it, even if the Valran had tried to cheat him out of his coin by using some kind of awful magic on him. He was lucky he'd had the foresight to bury the manuscript before the meeting so that the man needed him alive.

In any case, he hadn't been through town to meet up with Kent since them, and his last letter about new business had gone unanswered, but he'd acquired something truly great from his fence in Lorien: an actual antique book, and the knowledge that classical literature from Radenor was all the rage among a certain subset among the idle heirs of the Riennese. Thomas was happy to give them what they desired: very convincing copies of the real deal sold at a slight discount due to their shadowy provenance. All he had to do was get them drunk, tell them the book may have been purloined from a library in Northradica and that the nobility of Radenor was even now on the lookout for it, and they'd be hooked. But first, he needed three or four to sell.

And so, against his better judgment, he made for Sheorlund, hoping that Kent just hadn't bothered to write back. If the man had taken on an apprentice or another guildsman had moved into town, maybe they could suggest someone who could do the sort of work Thomas sought.

[Arnos Gleren]

As unfortunate as it was, these were the days in which Arnos was still slaving away with a quill and inkwell to translate a great deal of scripts from one language to another. He had chosen to take this job so that he could afford the medication that the local apothecary had been concocting for his father. Having contracted a respiratory illness that simply couldn't be overcome without the use of proper medication, Arnos' father had been utterly bedridden, leaving the twenty one year old to slave away day in and day out. While it may not have been all that bad, considering the enjoyment that Arnos had received from learning how to translate these works, this was simply not the life that he had foreseen for himself. In time, this path in which his life would lead would come to a change. That was a few summers away though and as such, the tired Moroi had no choice but to do what he could for his father.

For Arnos, today was much like any other day. The man that had hired him, Kent, would come into the building and offload several texts to the table in which the Moroi had sat. From there he would discuss the overall ideology behind the text and would work with the Moroi to determine the appropriate key for translating the text. Much like most of the texts that Arnos would be asked to handle, these ones were initially written in Silvain. Texts that had come from the Elven nation of Sil-Elaine. There was a time in which Arnos would overhear Kent saying something about these texts having been acquired from the Undercity of Veranor, The Pyred Bedlam, but he honestly couldn't be sure if this information was accurate or not. Either way, this was the job and Arnos had no choice but to make do with what he had before him.

Attempting to push past all of the thoughts of a future that he had longed for, Arnos would opt to focus on the opportunities that had currently been laid before him. From what he had been able to put together, there were a few things in which this current text had been detailing. It would go on to speak about various different forms of conjugations.. It must have been some kind of grammar textbook. A rather strange thing to have smuggled out from the Elven nation but something that the Moroi was curious to learn about either way. Hm.. I wonder why it is that this was what they had chosen to bring to our lands. Did the smugglers have too hard of a time finding anything that would prove useful? Or is this perhaps the kind of thing that they are hoping to distract us with? It would make sense for them to try and keep their information hidden away like this. The thought of this being a code of sorts to try and hide away key information had certainly occurred to Arnos. With it being such a strange thing to do though, the Moroi would simply discredit the idea and attempt to return back to his work.

As the Moroi would attempt to focus on the task at hand, his boss would simply decide that now was a good time to take a break of sorts. The two had been working the day away and of course he didn't think to invite the Moroi. Arnos might have been a good worker but to someone as against the abnormal as a resident of Radenor, the lad was just a bit too out of the ordinary. Over time they would come to respect one another for sure but in this moment, their relationship wasn't fully cemented in place. This being the case, Kent would simply head out the back door of the library without a second thought. He wouldn't bother to inform Arnos of his departure nor take the time to leave a note of some kind. Without a care in the world, the man would simply depart whilst leaving the lone Moroi as the sole occupant of the athenaeum.

"Fear stops life. Not death."

[Thomas]

Sheorlund hadn't changed much, but the towns in Radenor never did. The alehouse that Thomas had parked his wagon next to last time was gone, a burnt out husk in its place suggesting that it had succumbed to a fire. He asked around and was directed to a more modest taproom in its stead. The owner readily agreed to house Carrot and Horse, though, so Thomas didn't really care that the proprietor was charging the same for a pallet on the floor as the old place had for a private room no bigger than a closet. At least it would be likely to be warmer than the last place had been.

Nothing brought out the Griscian in him like this place. Everyone in it was just so, well, backwards. It was hard to fathom spending a life in one of those boring little towns, though presumably if one didn't know any better it was okay. He'd never had the chance to be happy with lot back in Starkwayte. At the orphanage, they'd subsisted on class envy as much as gruel. He'd always known he was on the bottom of a very large pyramind, and should have no other ambition than to reach as high as he could go. The people here, by contrast, were seemingly fine with things as they were.

These thoughts were on Thomas' mind when he ambled in to Kent's shop. He hadn't bothered to knock; the door was unlocked and it was the middle of the day. Even if Kent were no longer the occupant, presumably the new owner would not mind discussing some business. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the non-human in the workshop.

"Ah -- you are not Kent," he blurted out, uncharacteristically losing control of his tongue. Fortunately, years of verbal two-step enabled him to recover quickly. "Is this your shop, then? Or is Kent still in residence here? I wrote to him asking if he'd be willing to help me with a project, but I never heard back. Did you receive the letter, by chance?"

That the other occupant of the shop was not human did not bother him so much as it surprised him. Small towns like these tended to be pretty homogeneous, and while he'd pondered what he would do if it were another grey-bearded craftsman in Kent's stead, this possibility had not occurred to him.

[Arnos Gleren]

Upon hearing the door to the establishment opening, Arnos would pick his gaze up from the work in front of him and would turn it towards the source of the sound. As he would do this, the sound of a mans voice could be heard as well. Naturally, standing at the other end of the Moroi's gaze at this moment, there had been a human man. One that was seemingly looking for Kent for the purpose of some project or another. This was quite honestly the first time hearing about such a thing, aside from the work that he had been receiving from Sil-Elaine, so Arnos wasn't all that certain who this man could be. Were there humans out in those Elven lands?? Possibly but perhaps now wasn't the time to be dwelling on such a thing.

Hoping to try and turn his attention fully towards the man that had now been within the shop, and as such a potential customer, Arnos would rise from his seat and extend a hand out to the man. He was hoping to shake the mans hand but of course there was no guarantee as to whether or not he would receive such a thing from the man. In the event that this man responds appropriately, Arnos would shake his hand before sitting down. Otherwise he would simply stand there uncomfortably for a few moments before taking his seat. "Well hello!! I uh.. I can't say that I've heard much about this project of yours but I am most certainly willing to assist if I can!! Actually.. Hold on one moment, if you would please. Perhaps I can grab Kent for you." Figuring that the man was still within the confines of the store, Arnos would completely extract himself from his seat before meandering about the shop. His head would peak behind bookshelves and into any open rooms that had been available. Even with all of this searching though, he simply couldn't find Kent. Well shit.. I hope that he didn't sneak on out to leave me with all of the work.

Honestly kind of unsure as to how he should react here, Arnos would have to come to a decision. Should he take the time to interact solely with the customer on his own, taking the risk of upsetting Kent? Or should he just tell the man to come back in a few hours time, hoping that his boss would be back within that time period? "Hmm.." As he had been dwelling on what exactly he should do here, the Moroi would catch a sliver of the man within his vision. It was in this moment that he would come to the former decision. Worst case scenario, he just had to have Kent yell at him for a few hours. That was something that he could deal with. In fact, it wouldn't be the first time that he was subjected to such a thing. "Well... As you can see, I am currently unable to locate my employer. Is there.. perhaps anything that I can assist you with at the moment? If you are willing to speak with me about this project of yours, I can likely cover just about the majority of what Kent would have been able to do for you."

"Fear stops life. Not death."

[Thomas]

Once he recovered from his initial surprise about the workshop's new occupant, Thomas was able to put aside his own feelings about non-humans quite easily. For one thing, they were not as strong as they'd been when he was a kid. A life in the slums of Grisic had shown him that plenty of humans could be monsters, and years on the road since had shown him many non-humans were kind and many were not, same as anyone else. He'd grown up believing they were inherently beastial and inferior, but that had been borne out of ignorance. He'd been taught a lot of folderol, really, and was still unlearning some of it.

He shook Arnos' hand, his own grip firm and palm warm. Handshakes were an important part of business, after all. The tactile response reinforced the trustworthiness of their giver, and as a businessman he needed all the confidence of those who were willing to give it to him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Thomas said, smile slipping smoothly into place. "Johan Buchman, at your service. I've been through once before. Kent, who I assume is your Master, was kind enough to help me with a little project -- an illuminated manuscript. Now, I come back with a similar proposition, but it's clear that your Master is not hurting for work," he said with a glance at all of the Sil Elainian materials cluttering up the workshop, "so it's quite clear why he did not respond to my letter."

An idea occurred to him. If Kent was so disinterested and so distracted, perhaps he could cut the old man out and deal with his apprentice directly. If the boy's work was good enough, he could make good use of him, and presumably pay him less than the arm and a leg Kent charged. If the boy could purloin some materials from underneath his Master's nose, all the better.

"As for what you personally can do for me -- I'd be interested to see some of your illustration work and some of your woodblocks. If you're skilled enough, perhaps you can help me in your Master's stead."

[Arnos Gleren]

If he were being honest with himself, Arnos wasn't all that thrilled about the fact that this Johan had been referring to Kent as his master. It was perhaps understandable to some degree, to make such an observation in a land full of primarily humans, but it was quite honestly something that the Moroi couldn't agree with. Did he really... seem like a slave? It would take everything in the man to simply not roll his eyes. Especially considering the fact that he was hoping to maintain some form of professionalism with the man. That being the case, through nearly gritted teeth, Arnos would begin to speak up to the man before him. "Right.. Well it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Johan."

Figuring that he should simply blow past the entire slave/master thing, Arnos would begin to take the time to look over his desk for a proper example of his work. He could have shown Johan what he was currently working on but that simply didn't seem like the best of ideas at the moment. Instead he would look for one of the more finished transcripts that he had translated. Thankfully it wouldn't take all that long for him to locate what it was that he was looking for. The work that he would go on to snag from the table had been one of the texts that he had translated from Silvain to Common. "I suppose that this is perhaps the closest thing to such a work that I can currently show to you."

With this stack of pages now in hand, Arnos would anxiously hand them on over to the man. While it was possible that this man could have attempted to book it with the texts, Arnos was attempting to put more faith in the man for the time being. Worst case scenario, he would have to redo the entirety of the translation. "I know that it might not seem like much, given that it is currently within Common script, but I assure you that this is one of my best works at the moment." If Johan were to take the time to inspect the text, they would come to notice a few things. The translation itself had seemed to have been rather complete, and for the most part it was. Rather than leaving the text jumbled, the man would take the time to fill in what he believed to be missing from the texts. It perhaps wasn't the best in terms of what was filled in but Arnos had done his best. And of course the first letter of each paragraph had been written in Calligraphy, albeit the work on each letter having been rather shaky.

"So what exactly are you hoping on having me translate or carry over into a new text? My primary focus at the moment has been translating texts from Silvain to Common and vice versa. If it is something along those lines than I am sure that what you ask of me shall be a breeze. Otherwise? I might need to acquire a key to help me with whatever language I am transcribing the text to. Whether that is to be supplied by you or acquired through the market shall be up to you. Of course, depending on what I am going to have to acquire for myself, the price of your request will fluctuate."

"Fear stops life. Not death."

[Thomas]

Thomas looked through the texts carefully. He did not speak any Silvain, so had no sense whatsoever with Arnos' skill with translation. The words didn't matter to him, in any case. While he rather enjoyed reading, that wasn't what he was here for.

He needed someone who had a talent for mimicry, someone who could copy the old book from Northradica as close to the original as possible. The customers would be credulous idle heirs spending family money, but they were still educated, academic dilettantes. An obvious forgery would ruin his credibility with them, and he'd lose his network of Northern Rienese heirs. A lot was riding on the clever hands of this strange apprentice. Still, it passed muster. At least enough for Thomas to make the proposal to the lad.

"Well, what I need is this," he said, withdrawing the antique book from Johan's leather satchel. He gave it to Arnos to leaf through. "It's an antique book from Northradica. Probably a century or two old, but in decent shape nonetheless. It was a gift from, hm, a friend. In Lorien. I need at least two copies of it made to look exactly like this. The paper must match, the inks must match, the binding and cover must match. The illustrations and words must be transcribed exactly as they are. So while it is transcription work, it will require a careful, meticulous eye and deft hands. Kent did an excellent job for me on a manuscript once before, so I'm sure any Apprentice of his has at least the foundation of the skills needed for a work like this. Even so, if the copy produced is inferior to the original, I will have to reflect that in my payment to you. You will need to acquire materials that will make the reproductions look the part as well: the appropriate sort of vellum parchment Northradicans used back then, gall ink, Northradican colored inks for the illustrations, as well as older leather for the cover. I am unsure if you will have all of this available to you in the workshop, but if you don't, resource acquisition may not be easy."

"Do you think you can do this?" He asked.

[Arnos Gleren]

Once Johan had finished looking over the texts, Arnos would delicately take them back from the man before placing them back in their rightful place. No need to ruin perfectly good works if he could help it. "It sounds to me as though you are hoping for me to craft a facsimile edition of the text." Reaching out to accept the codex that the man had been holding onto, Arnos would take it from him and begin to look it over. From what he had could gather, the materials that Johan had been requesting could likely be right. It wasn't as though Arnos had known enough about such things to truly understand if such things were accurate or not. "I will certainly do my best to replicate this work for you, Johan, but I must warn you. I am no bookbinder and as such, this might not come out to the exact manner in which you are hoping. As with all of my works though, I shall do my best."

There were many questions that Arnos had wished to ask of the man. Just how it was that this man had managed to acquire an antique book from Northradica. Why it was that the man had come all the way to Sheorland from Lorien, knowing that there are likely people of far more value to be found within Lorien. Why would he even need to come out to Sheorland in the first place when Northradica was the location in which he had found the book. Just how it was that he had known Kent and if he himself was perhaps one of the smugglers that Kent had been working with. In truth, there were far too many questions rolling about in his head for him to focus on one particular one. Knowing that these were all things that he could ask about in the future though, Arnos would attempt to file them away for another time whilst turning his attention back towards the text.

"I can't exactly say that I am much of a papermaker either but.. We'll see what we can do. Especially considering the fact that Vellum changes over time and aging such a thing shan't be easy work. The ink I can likely acquire in the markets, if we don't have any in the back, but I'll have to give the shop a once over before that point. All in all though... I suppose that I can do what you are asking. Is there perhaps a stringent timeline in which such a feat must be accomplished? If not, I can get to work in a rather speedy manner. Even faster if you are perhaps willing to assist me with a few things. It all really comes down to when you need these things to be accomplished." As intelligent as the Moroi had been about such matters, all of this would come down to what Johan had in mind. It was now that Arnos would truly begin to think about acquiring an assistant of his own at some point. If only Kent was here... That damned old man.

"Fear stops life. Not death."

[Thomas]

Thomas did not miss the boy's hesitation, his stipulations. He was unsure if he was up to the ask, and talking it through. On balance, this was good. A foolhardy apprentice who said yes without thinking it through would have been shown the boot immediately. This one was clever, thoughtful. The stranger rose in his esteem with each caveat and addendum that came from his lips.

"Your supposition is correct -- these cannot be shoddy copies. Their intended audience abhors poor workmanship, so if they are not excellent, they will not be of use to me. If you wish to take this job on without informing your Master so that he does not take his cut of your fee, that's no business of mine. I wrote to Kent, and he did not write me back, so he has no claim on this work."

"Since I am taking a chance on you, though, here's what I propose: You produce the first story of this work --- there are four in the book, all told, and the first is the shortest with only two illustrations. I will come back in a week's time to check upon your progress, and evaluate your skill. If you do well, I will hire you to produce two copies of the pages of the book in six weeks' time. I will procure the leather you need for binding and handle that aspect of it. You will handle all other material acquisition."

"I will pay you handsomely, should you be able to pull this off. For the initial chapter, I will pay you for your time and cost of materials, only. For the completing product, I can offer 250 df per copy you produce. I can increase that to 300 df per copy if you bind them, or have someone who knows how to bind them do so. Ah, and one further caveat of my own -- you may not put your mark on these works."

Thomas wondered if that last bit would sting. It would mean that the apprentice would not gain any notoriety for creating these things. It would also potentially alert the boy that these he was not just recreating a historical book with an eye for accuracy and detail as he'd initially claimed. He had no issue with the Apprentice knowing what was going on, but he would not spell it out for the boy if he were not wise enough to suss it out on his own.

"What say you?"

[Arnos Gleren]

As Johan would go on to further speak on Arnos possibly stealing some of this work away from Kent, the Moroi couldn't help but dart his eyes off towards the front doorway and the back hallway. If Kent were to come in and here such a thing, it was entirely likely that Arnos would be fired and left to find work elsewhere. For all intensive purposes, that was by far one of the most dangerous outcomes at the moment. After having performed those cursory glances though, Arnos would return his attention to the man before him before allowing for his smile to grow a bit larger. "Right, of course. From what I am hearing, the terms of our verbal contract are rather amicable. You be sure to provide the leather for the binding and I will take care of the rest on my own." Arnos knew how large of an endeavor this whole thing was going to be. It would honestly be better if he could acquire an assistant of his own to help him with the matter but unfortunately, such a thing simply isn't in the cards for him.

"Given that things are mostly in order now, I suppose that I shall get to work. That being the case, if you would excuse me..." Having said his piece, Arnos would decide to turn his focus solely towards the task ahead of him. There was a lot involved in the process of crafting a book. Replicating one in its entirety? Now that was a hell of a lot more work. Work that Arnos was no going to have to complete within a week's time. Granted, he only had to focus on the first story within the tome, but that wasn't enough of a challenge for the boy. If he was going to earn this mans respect and future business than he was going to have to give his all to this particular venture. As such, Arnos would immediately begin to inspect every inch of the tome. He would start by physically inspecting the tome itself but after a moment or two, he would throw himself into the pages of the text. Each line would be read with careful precision. Each word, entirely unknown, he would attempt to see if it contained any common language families with the languages that he knew. Only one problem was found with this... Much like he had expected, this text has never been translated from its original language into everyday Common before. It was somewhat reminiscent of it to a degree and yet.. It simply didn't fit the mold that he was hoping for. While not particularly tasked with the translation process of this tome, Arnos couldn't help but wish to pick apart the language itself and translate it. He might have been able to pull it off as well, if it wasn't for that he had never seen such an old language before, let alone studied it. It was old enough to where he honestly couldn't determine if there was a language tutor program within the nearby academies that could possibly assist him. "Tch.. I'll just have to come back to that at the end."

Taking a moment to clear his head, Arnos would begin to anxiously rub at the back of his neck. Okay, let's see here. This is just like creating a book normally, right? While you haven't given it too much of a try yourself, you've seen Kent do it once or twice before right? Yeah!! So what are the steps that I need to proceed with... There is the act of making the parchment itself. This isn't particularly something that I need to do at this moment, given that we have so much of it here on its own. Given that I need to age the parchment though.. Well I suppose that I am going to have to take care of that aspect before I get to writing. Actually transcribing the materials over from the book to the blank vellum should be the next step and likely the most painstaking one. If I could better understand the letters and the like than it would be quite easy but that's simply not going to be how it turns out for me. The third step would be to work on the illumination of course and as for the final step? Well that's the act of binding it all together. All in all, Arnos had known what it was that he was going to have to do. What was going to require the biggest amount of work at the moment was going to be gathering everything that he had needed.

Over the course of the next week, various things would begin to happen. Whenever Arnos had time in between each of his actual work projects, the Moroi would be sure to pick up the process of throwing this first story together. He would put in a request with Kent to acquire the proper materials, under the guise of needing them for future works, and would only have to wait a few days for everything to start arriving. Inks were a rather easy ask so they were sent via messenger pigeon. Most of the other materials were things that could be found within the marketplace in town, if not in the storage room in the back. Fifty Dranari Farthing's would be offered up to a papermaker for the vellum that was needed and the rest was covered by Kent, thankfully. After having acquired everything that he would need, Arnos would painstakingly spend the remainder of his time transferring everything over. Towards the end of the week, this act would even begin to dip in towards the time that he was supposed to be working on the projects provided to him by Kent. He was really cutting it close with everything.. but at least it was something that was getting done!! Once this week had come to an end, Arnos would simply wait for Johan to return. A copy of the first story was completed in a rather precise manner. It wasn't impeccable in the slightest but it seemed to be getting there with time. If one had to compare it to the skill of someone on his same level.. An individual might be able to say that this was the talent of an apprentice writer. Not surprising in the least, unfortunately.

"Fear stops life. Not death."