Petition

[Mer]

77th Ash 4622

The life of a wandering ranger was perhaps not exactly what Mer was suited to, but it was what he found himself as following the upheaval in Sunderland. With a large pack strapped to his back, a bow with plentiful arrows ready for use, the disowned Sil’Norai had ventured from the holding in the north all the way down to the South East in search of something to tether himself to for momentary clarity of what had exactly happened in those final moments at home. Along his journey, he made awful foes and not many friends. The boy was perplexed as to why landlords did not see fit that housing a gentry-born child was payment enough for their rooms, nor why they often seemed to suggest lewd proclamations about his body despite the understanding he was far from a whore based on those prior statements? It was evident they had not been offered the calibre of education Mer had, to which he seemed to pity them for.

His charted course seemed to steer him clear mostly of threats outside disgruntled men at Inns, but it was upon his arrival in the Southern East sections of Radenor’s bountiful lands that he found himself the prey of a weird beast that seemed indescribable to him. Mer had parted with a number of arrows in his escape from the creature, which was sure a charitable fletcher would recraft for him once they knew of his legendary status. It was in his escape that his feet aimlessly carried him onto Vesterhal, a branch of the Mages Guild he had received a rudimentary explanation in his studies. He knew the name, and he knew there was a guild of Mages in Radenor, that was where his understanding stopped. It was hardly relevant information for his future and his position as heir.

It didn’t take a lot of courage for Mer to decide he liked his chances with the Mages Guild, rather than that of hunting the large predator skulking around on his travels. Dressed in merely his chain shirt, and a pair of ornate leather pants, he declared himself to Vesterhal, “Greetings Vesterhal, you are blessed with the presence of one Mer Sil’Sunderland, future lord of the Olsen Holdings of Sunderland, and the future Prodigal Archer of such settlings!” He announced, his voice pushed a few octaves, sounding a little more proud and a little more pretentious than he usually did. It was hard to say what said hello first, Mer, or the fact that Mer’s upper body was bare-bar the chain shirt. The cold of the air certainly made the two nubs on his chest an odd way of greeting others. The addition of Prodigal Archer was one Mer made up on the spot, not something he’d used on his travels prior. The ideology was simple, he was about to petition Mages to better police the wildlife in the surrounding areas.. He needed to seem like he was a man of combat too!

“I request that you recognise my position as Gentry and offer me respite in Vesterhal so I may petition you on a matter of your immediate attention!” He continued, trying to push his voice louder, while also puffing his chest up a little in the process to make sure a visual matched the words.

[Hakon]

Hakon didn't hear much about the day to day trivialities of the Guild. He avoided conversations and idle gossip whenever possible, preferring instead to focus on praying, studying, and training. Large events, though, it was hard to avoid hearing of, and a visit from a noble was one such. He did not receive Mer, or hear of the entreaty, but he was summoned by the First Warden, eventually.

When he joined the man in his office, the noble was already seated there. While the scenario was familiar -- Hakon had responded to dozens if not hundreds of such summons throughout his decades at the Guild -- the petitioner was different. Something about the boy in the chainmail shirt was oddly compelling. Rather than gazing at his superior as was tradition, Hakon couldn't help but look at Mer instead. He used his Ethersight on the guest reflexively, and was relieved to find that whatever the reason for this was, it was not due to some perverse magical effect of Mentalism or similar. Perhaps it was the marking across the lad's face. There was something about it that Hakon liked. Unbidden, he wondered if it had the same texture as skin, or if it had a texture to it all its own.

"Ah, First Warden -- you requested my presence?"

The man was one Hakon had known for a really long time. If the mage hunter had a better facility with reading people, he may have picked up on the fact that his superior was not thrilled by their guest. Perception was not a strong suit of Hakon's however, so he missed the meaning of the furrowed brow and frown. "Yes. This -- Lord -- is to stay with us. Show him to a Novus dormitory and make sure he is provided for. Dismissed."

Hakon nodded at the request, straightening to his full height.

"Welcome to the Guild, m'Lord. If you'd like to follow me, I can provide a tour of points of interest, such as your quarters, where you will cook and receive meals, the training yard where you can spar and drill, should you wish, and anything else you are curious about. Will this suit?"

[Mer]

It took not even a second for Mer to begin inspecting Vesterhal when the Mages finally obliged his request. His beady amber eyes traced every inch they looked upon, somewhat weighing up if he could find a way to stay there longer than was needed. He missed the finery of his home even if he would not admit it. He could not admit it. Mer had a task, a task to prove himself, and missing home was definitely a point against completing such a mission.

That same level of inspection was offered to the First Warden, and eventually, the larger man that was seemingly assigned to him. He needed not for a chaperone, in fact he found it somewhat offensive that the Mages trusted him not to wander the grounds alone. However, he was taught the appropriate amount of etiquette required to not shake a fist at such things. The First Warden left them, Mer stood to stand, and quickly the height difference between the two was starkly obvious. Hakon stood tall and almost intimidating with that tallness, while Mer admittedly stood short for a Sil’Norai and almost enticing with the way his body wore the chain shirt. Almost enticing with the way his skin had a faint glow to it that seemed to be far more obvious in differing light. Of course, the only part of him that was adjusted from that of a regular Sil’Norai was the brown hair, but that hardly stopped people from identifying his race.

“I’m visiting, not moving in,” Mer quickly announced to the offering levied his way by the taller man, his eyes doing a sweeping up and down motion to fully take in the larger form for just a second time. “Hm, how about we begin with a name? Then you can give me this grand tour,” Mer proposed with a slight smirk growing on his lips, the position of power being all too easily for him to slip back into. Though Hakon would not have heard it prior Mer’s speech was much more relaxed, though he did seem to have to tendency to stress off words such as ‘name’ in his prior offering. Subconsciously one of his hands had eased its way to his hip, an all too common body language for the Brat of Sunderland.

[Hakon]

Something about the Lord put him off his balance. He wasn't sure what it was, or why, but he wanted to impress this man, specifically. Make him laugh, or smile, or-- something. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and an unwelcome one. Hakon was more used to not caring one way or the other about anyone, and they all afforded him that same courtesy. He preferred it that way. Easier to focus on his training and missions without being distracted by such thoughts. He'd wondered, in passing, if this meant there was something wrong with him. A part of maturity was supposed to be interest in other adults -- usually women, but sometimes men -- and it had never really happened for him. He found the idea of closeness with other mages unbearable, and the Scarlet Watch were his keepers, not his friends.

This was no the time for such musings. He extended a big hand towards the Lordling, who, he was just now realizing was not just youthful, but young. Which made him feel even more ridiculous about his thoughts earlier. They had not subsided, however.

"Hakon, Sir. Magus of Vesterhal. I hope you will find Vesterhal to your liking during the duration of your stay here," he said, falling back on courtesy because he could think of nothing else to say.

He began the tour by showing the Lordling to his quarters. They were sparse but clean, and with a small, barred window, they were reasonably well lit, as well. The furniture was battered from use, but in good condition, the linens on the bed clean and meticulously mended. In addition to the bed there was a small nighstand with a candle stub and tinder on it, and a shelf for personal belongings, currently bare.

"If you need some time to get settled, I can step outside, or return later," he offered. "If you'd like to continue, please do let me know what else you'd like to see."

[Mer]

Hakon was a new name for Mer, something he had yet to come across in the wild. In literature, he’d found sprinklings of it, though he savoured meeting someone using the name, not in history or fictional books. A large hand was offered his way, by the large man named Hakon, and Mer was educated enough to know that he ought to accept such an offering. A handshake out the way, Mer savouring oddly over how his hand fit into the large glove-like grip, the tour began.

Without a single thought to the idea of freshening up, or taking a little time to himself Mer let his large backpack filled to the brim with the belongings he was offered by his mother in those final moments find the bed presented to him by Hakon. Strewn from his back, the lither boy in the arrangement rolled his shoulders, and stretched his arms, like he needed a moment to get used to a body without all that weight. “We can continue, I need to shake you down about this beast anyway,” Mer announced, adjusting his bow to sit a little more comfortably over his torso, and ensuring his quiver remained clipped to his hip. It made for an odd drawing motion, but it suited Mer and the performance he liked to give whenever an arrow must be drawn.

“A mythical creature roams these lands, and I intend to petition all of you Mages to join me in slaying it. Your chapter gets the glory, I get the spoils so I may take them to a reputable tailor and craft myself an outfit to better match my calibre.” Seemed like a very one-sided deal, like with most deals Mer would make now he was out on his own. “You look capable, you feel capable too... Our handshake offered me that. Tell me Hakon, Sir..-” It was almost like he was drawing a blank on the title. “Magus!” It arrived in his thought palace eventually. “Do you believe yourself capable to carry on this task? I know it can be.. Unnerving. The idea of having to perform alongside me.” He regaled. Even in the pretence of being a guest, Mer had forgotten the appropriate etiquette taught to him, or not taught to him given a childhood of solitude.

[Hakon]

Hakon considered Mer's words for some moments, nodding quietly to himself.

"I will give it due consideration, m'Lord."

In the intervening time, he showed Mer around to the areas that the lordling may wish to go: starting with the chapel, should he wish to pray.

"I am unsure if you are a practitioner of the path, m'Lord, but here in the Guild, it is customary for us to spend time in daily prayer in meditation. I would encourage you to join us."

The chapel was one of Hakon's favorite places in the tower. The customary ceilings of the tower which to his mind were rather low at only eight feet were afforded several extra feet to allow for a feeling of loftiness and expansion, and the ceiling was painted with a celestial fresco that always brought peace to his mind. He lingered in the chapel perhaps overly long, looking at it fondly. It really was one of his favorite places in the world.

At length, he answered Mer's question: "I am unsure if I am up to the task of facing this legendary Beast, m'Lord. I mostly hunt down human quarry. Rogue mages who need to be brought to the Guild, or iconoclasts who need to be brought to justice. My skillset, such as it is, is mostly dedicated to detecting other mages, disabling or disrupting their ability to channel ether, and then subduing them."

He left out that he was also a Sunderer. In his limited experience, it tended to make people uncomfortable that one of his magical disciplines involved sticking a spike into the living heart of a mage. It baffled him a bit, the hypocrisy of it. Many people in Radenor had seen battle, and had killed their fellow man, and this was fine, but when a Sunderstrike was added to the mix, suddenly it had the air of something sinister. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a sort of magic all its own? In any case, he tried not to let it bother him, but he also did not advertise the fact that he could do it unless he was certain that the person would enjoy hearing that news.

"Shall we move on to the stables and training yard, m'Lord?"

[Mer]

In the lengthy offerings that were Mer’s education, he had an empty spot when it came to magic and Mages. Of course, he was taught the basics and the drawbacks, the drawbacks were definitely instilled to ensure he was warded away from remotely considering trying his hand at the craft. Hakon’s explanation of his duties was primarily new information, that somewhat went into one ear and out the other given the state of slight refusal he got in response to the request.

Hakon would not so swiftly steer by, given the request was the reason he had even made his way to Vesterhal. “I am most disappointed you wouldn’t entertain my request further, do I truly have so little sway?” Mer pressed with a raised eyebrow, his body moving to block the other man within the chapel with him for a moment. It was comical to think that Mer in his shorter stature could body-block a man as large as Hakon, but given the way he entered and how he was conducting himself, it was less surprising after a few moments of consideration. “How may I inspire you to consider my request, Sir Magus? I am sure I could handle this Beast alone-” He could not. “But, I would most enjoy the cooperation of your chapter in such endeavours. What would become if the creature decided he had a taste for farmers? Or even worse, decided to turn your dwellings into its new abode? I believe that by refusing me as you have… You decide to embrace your fate to be lunch. What do you say to that?”

Mer in his speechcraft had gotten bold in his body language. Both of his hands sat upon his hips, one hand awkwardly intertwined with the straps of his quiver. His chest was puffed up once more, like upon his decree on the outside of Vesterhal. Furthermore, his head held itself high, amber eyes looking at the other man intently. Mer could not grow another foot to match the height of the man, but he could hone the physicality of his form to better match the words and sentiments he attempted to convey. “Consider it time your quarry became things other than people.”

[Hakon]

He couldn't continue his tour without brushing past Mer, but the idea of that felt wrong, somehow. Overly familiar. Hakon wasn't certain where these feelings were coming from. He'd spent his entire life in the company of other people in decently close quarters. If he needed to brush past someone, he did so. Except, it seemed, with this man. Perhaps it was because of Mer's style of speech -- such an entreaty deserved a proper answer, and Hakon could no more brush off the rhetoric than he could brush past the orator producing it.

"If you are concerned about it, m'Lord, it must be a formidable beast, indeed. I cannot aid you without permission from the First Warden -- all of my excursions must be approved in this way, and I must be assigned at least one guard from the Scarlet Watch to ensure I do not become a threat to the people of Jorikford. Should you be able to convince the First Warden of your request, I will happily volunteer to fill the position, should he ask for such."

He got closer to Mer, echoing the lordling's posture by standing up straight for once and looking down at the youth.

"In the meantime, if you wish to have a sparring partner, you need only ask. If this beast is so fearsome, you may wish to practice vanquishing larger, stronger targets than you, m'Lord. I cannot claim to be nearly so menacing as your choice of prey, but I can help you prepare, if you wish." Hastily, he added, "your choice of weapon, or unarmed, if you wish," which was foolish.

He was skilled only with blunt weaponry and the use of a shield. If Mer chose swords or polearms or similar, he'd just make an idiot of himself.

[Mer]

Mer would never have guessed there was so much bureaucracy needed to be a mage! If he had realised how hard it would be to get one mage, let alone several, for his little task he might have reconsidered going to them for the assistance he sought after. He needed permission from the First Warden, then a guard, just to use one mage! He hardly believed mages important enough to warrant such crazy restrictions. Seriously, he was rethinking his approach.

What struck Mer and stopped him from wandering to recollect his belongings was the oddly placed offer to spar… He wasn’t opposed to such things, and what the other man did ring true. Mer had yet to actually look upon the thing stalking him on his travels, a key piece of information withheld, but he assumed it larger than him. If they were to be technical, he’d be engaging with his bow, but using that on the large oaf-y man felt like overkill by a long stretch. “Hm, I suppose I could spar with you,” He pondered, crossing his arms over his chest in equally reflective body language. The view of nipple obscured for a short duration.

“If it were to be armed, using my bow would be the only option I would consider. However I was raised to know that firing arrows in a home, not of my own, is not appreciated.” Left it wide open for the implication that yes he fired the bow in his home in Sunderland. “Make a request to your First Warden so that I may know the decision of your people on my matter. While I await such a ruling, we shall spar without weaponry.” He thought to make comment about if the First Magus said no he’d use the bow, but the possibility of that being construed as a threat rather than tongue-in-cheek was far too high.

Finally, Mer offered an up-down with his eyes like he was sizing up his forthcoming opponent, before then turning on his heels and aimlessly leading the way to where he believed the training grounds could be in the mausoleum that was Vesterhal. Vesterhal, the grounds of unneeded bureaucracy that interfered with the needs and demands of a lordling.

[Hakon]

"I cannot submit a petition on your behalf, m'Lord," Hakon corrected Mer. I cannot represent your interests here, you must do so yourself."

He led Mer to the training yard, relieved to find it empty. The Scarlet Watch must have been up to training somewhere else; field drills, perhaps. He looked for a suitable spot. He wasn't afraid of getting his clothes dirty; the laundry in the Guild was more than suitable for washing them clean of dirt and sand, and he intended to make good on his promise to the young Lord. If he wished to spar, they would spar. They could also box, or wrestle. He found himself hoping, privately that some grappling may be involved, too. He wasn't an expert, but he'd undergone basic combat training as part of being in the Guild before specializing with his mace, and that sort of wrestling had been his favorite. In theory, their relative sizes would give him quite an advantage when they were at short range, but Hakon had learned not to rely on his size as the sole determinant factor in a bout like this. Mer could surprise him -- he could be unexpectedly skilled, or at least be trained in techniques Hakon hadn't seen before.

It was exciting to think about. Learning more about combat, even in a discipline he did not favor, was useful. He was not above tackling a mage and throttling them, for instance, should the need arise.

"Should we begin, then, m'Lord? Or would you like to continue the tour? I am happy to show you the common areas and bathing areas, as well. Should we spar here, I plan to clean myself up afterward, and could accompany you."