[Loras] Golden Rule of Coin

[Arlen]

28th Day of Searing, 120 AoS

Hungry mouths had to eat. Luckily for Arlen, there was just one. His own. But food did not come free unless he’d move to the forests and live as he once did. Which he didn’t feel up for.
So he found himself standing under the unforgiving searing sun with little to hide in the shadows. It was only thanks to the season that he was not due to burn to a crisp by the end of the day.
This job was much different from the ones of the past. But who needed a travelling convoy inside a city? So instead, he was a stall guard, paid by the gem merchant from Kamdin. Arlen got an earful of reasons for extra security earlier that day when he arrived on duty all spruced up as his employer asked.
“You can’t trust anyone,” the merchant told him in a hushed voice as he was setting up his stall. “Especially guards. If you don’t pay them, they owe you nothing, let alone protection. So that’s why you’re here. I pay you well so you do what you’re told. And that’s guarding this stand so that no one, no one, as much as walks away without paying the full price for these beauties,” the gem merchant lectured Arlen, casting a silk cloth across the table to lay the said beauties on.
The merchant had already been in Loras for a few days and would continue to travel in the days to come. Arlen understood why the extra security was needed the moment that the merchant started arranging the stones. Some were indeed enchanting beyond compare.
It even made sense why the merchant requested that Arlen dressed in better clothes. He wasn’t there to guard only but to uphold a certain image it seemed too.
So Arlen donned his tribe’s robes of silk with some leather armour and the sword at his hip just to show that he wasn’t a passerby.
At the start of the day, Arlen took his job very seriously. He was monitoring very much every person that approached the stand, their hands and gestures. But as the day carried on with the heat rising and nothing happening at all, his focus wavered. At some point, he started to feel more as a decoration than a man on duty.
His gaze wandered across the undulating crowds, keeping an eye and ear on the conversations next to him.
This was indeed much different to his usual job. He was missing the movement of a caravan convoy. At least in a convoy, there was a destination to get to, a goal to aim for. And the company was generally more enjoyable too.

[Milana]

Exhaustion had long since past, and what was left over was a deep, deep tiredness that had settled into her bones. She all but slumped in her chair as Strous pushed her from the large building off the main street. The meeting with the money lenders had been... fruitful she supposed. There was some hope for Loras if she could just find some new revenue streams for the town. Perhaps she should extend a greeting to some of the other villages in the territory, an open invitation of trade?

"We need a new scribe for the Estates." Milana said, rubbing her eyes, "I cannot keep up with the paperwork on my own anymore. Perhaps Lorane would be willing to take the position, if I asked her again in person..." Up until now she had been resolute in her decision and had refused Milana at every turn, but now with everything going on, she might be more open to the idea.

Milana absently looked around as they moved out into the main market area, her tired eyes swept over the people of Loras and she noted the atmosphere. Perhaps to someone just passing through it would not be obvious, but there was a tension in the air. People still smiled, coin traded hands, there was laughter and food, but beneath it all was a heaviness that did not normally belong in the small town. The hunt from weeks before had left a sour taste on the people of Loras, and though they had rooted out the monsters there was still an air of unease as people were no longer sure who they could trust. Milana could see this especially with traders from outside of Loras. Hospitality was offered, but the smiles no longer quite reached the eyes and no one was so quick to offer more aid than they had to. She couldn't blame them. After what they had experienced, it seemed normal to be shaken.

Her eyes lighted on one booth that was selling gems. Milana recognized the Merchant. A small man with large spectacles, slightly balding but despite his appearance he was a shrewd negotiator if she remembered correctly.

I believe he was... Artoris Flax. Milana thought as they drew nearer. Just as they were about to pass she raised a hand, and Strous slowed to a stop in front of the stall.

"Welcome, welcome how can I..." the merchant's words trailed off as he turned to greet this new potential customer at his stall. His expression shifted supply, and his poster straightened slightly as he folded his hands in the large sleeves of his robes, "Well if this isn't unexpected. What brings you to my stall this afternoon Lady Milana?"

The nobles returned smile was slow and tired as she raised a hand to wave off the question, "Artoris, you know I must come by to see you every time you visit. If I didn't Master Dilinger would have me drawing circles for three days straight." The glitter of the gems drew Milana's eyes downward as she inspected the wares, nodding appreciatively as she looked at the precious stones, "I don't suppose you would offer a discount for a repeat customer?"

The merchant didn't smile at the supposed jest, likely because he knew that it was anything but. Instead he picked up a fine green emerald from where it sat on a cloth, holding it up for Milana to see clearly, "Milana, it is always a pleasure, and just for you I have taken the liberty to account for such a discount in the price already." This time he did smile slightly, "120 df."

The price made Milana want to gag, but she schooled her features so that only a minor eye twitch came as a result of the statement. She paused, looking at the gem before meeting Artoris' eyes once more, "Your prices are... creative as usual I see."

With a shrug the merchant returned the gem to its place, "It is expensive to mine and process the gems, and many you see here are already cut by master crafters in Kamdin. If you purchase the raw gems yourself you could have your local jeweler see to them," his expression said he doubted the local talent in such matters, "But the price of paying for that yourself would be exorbitant. You are better off buying ours pre cut unless you or your master requires something custom done."

She could see his reasoning, but shook her head and shifted in her chair, "There is no great need at the moment. Unfortunately I have had little time to dedicate to my studies with all that has happened." This bit of information Milana dangled in the air like a bit of meat over a hungry dogs head.

"Oh? And may I ask what exactly has happened?" Artoris had leaned forward slightly, betraying his showing of disinterest despite himself.

Milana smiled slightly and tapped the arm of her chair, "Indeed, some events have caused quite a few shifts in the town. I am sure you noticed the increased guards at the gates." Artoris nodded slowly, his brow furrowing as if to say he had not truly noticed, but Milana continued anyway, "If I remember correctly, you are a member of the Redwing Trading Company based out of Kamdin are you not?"

"I am," he said, suddenly suspicious, "We are a small trading company beneath Garlief Trading Co, but we do well for ourselves. Why?"

Milana's smile widened further as it was her turn to lean forward slightly, "Would you care to join me in the Manor this evening? I believe we may have some business to discuss." Finally Milana glanced sideways at Arlen, seeming to notice him for the first time before looking back at Artoris, "You may bring your guard of course. It is always best to have someone you can trust at your side."

The merchant seemed to consider the offer for a while, stroking his chin in thought. At last he shrugged and thumbed toward Arlen, "I am afraid I cannot meet with you tonight, but I will send this one to you to schedule a time for sometime tomorrow instead. Will that be acceptable?"

It wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it would do. She said as much and the noble departed, having Strous begin pushing her back up toward the Manor. As they walked Strous asked almost absently, "Are you planning to replace Westweald with the Redwing Trading Company?"

"No." she said simply, resting her head back and closing her eyes against the harsh sunlight, "But this will be the first step in future negotiations. Loras has to have more suppliers, and more caravans passing through in order to survive. So much needs to be done, but all of it takes coin... coin that I have to make appear no matter what."

[Arlen]

At some point, people started to look the same. Heir only differentiator was how strongly they tried to drive a bargain. That was until this woman arrived. But it wasn’t the looks that set her apart, it was the contraption in which she arrived. It didn’t occur to him at first that he was looking at Milana Terras, the lady of the town. After all, he arrived only three day ago and heard the name Terras only in passing
Milana, he thought since the name rang a bell, but it was just that - a minor tickle of a short term memory. At that point, she only appeared as one of the richer residents. After all, who got to roll around in a wheelchair with a servant at the back? Though he wondered whether the chair was a necessity or a luxury.
Either way, Arlen’s focus shifted from the two to the moving crowd again when they stated discussing a price of a gem. The merchant seemed to know some people, willing to negotiate. With some he jested, and for the rest he was as hard as a sickle cutting down grass.
It wasn’t until the conversation shifted and the polite game of pretend was abandoned. Arlen’s gaze shifted once more, dropping to look at Milana’s profile.
The manor? There weren’t many if any in town and the one that was the most known belonged to the Terras family. Of course what reason did he have to think that’s what they meant? None. So instead the sudden change in his job description captivated his mind.
From a guard to a secretary. The rise and fall of a profession, Arlen thought keeping his face straight otherwise. Not that it bothered him much but as it was not included in their agreement, Arlen was considering additional compensation. So perhaps it wasn’t so bad to be a guard if there were these ‘perks’?
He watched the woman retreat, pushed along by the servant, when Flax spoke to him. “You’ll go to the manor at the end of the day and schedule a meeting for tomorrow early morning in Duedrop. Before the markets open.”
“You know that I’ll come at extra,” Arlen said.
The two looked at each other for while, Flax’s face immovable, impenetrable.
“My job is to guard. I’m not an errand boy,” Arlen broke the silence first. Flax snorted and waved his hand.
“Whatever you say. Just make sure the Terras girl is there in the morning.”
Arlen took in one deep breath. He know Flax was going to drive a hard bargain and Arlen would have demanded clarification there and then, but a new customer approached the stall and the merchant was saved. Also…
It was Milana Terras, Arlen thought and cast one quick look to where she disappeared among the people. The lady of the town.

-x-x-x-

Arlen was dismissed from guarding duty when the sun was getting too close to the roofs. The merchant took down his stall and safely packed the gems. It was time to play the merchant’s secretary.
The black haired man returned to his room first to freshen up. After all a full day in the sun in part armour was a sweaty business and life experience also taught him the basics of social interactions that to visit someone else’s home dirty, regardless of their standing, was not a good idea.
Leaving his armour and sword behind, Arlen stayed dressed in his part Jastai tribal clothing, part common. In his limited sense of fashion, this was more acceptable than going dressed otherwise. Though he thought about going full Jastai clothing but that just felt a tad too festive and over the top.
During his walk to the manor, the people around him appeared to be hurrying to return to their homes before the nightfall. He heard reports in the Fishook of what happened here shortly before his arrival. Since then, the smiles he was seeing on everyone’s faces weren’t as carefree. He saw the tension around the corner’s of people’s mouths. The way it didn’t touch their eyes.
Eventually, Arlen arrived at the gate, or lack thereof, of the manor. Wondering only for a moment why the defence was removed, he entered the estate grounds through the arch.
After years of convoy work in the North, Arlen understood one thing. Housing often spoke of status. Not something that was important in his tribe, but outside it, people seemed to value the material possessions greatly. So what he saw when he entered only further validated the Terras’s family position in town.
The gardens hugged the manor in an intimate embrace and were being well-tended. Despite the gentle evening warmth and the sun setting, the place was almost empty and the man wondered if it was even open to public. The few people that Arlen did see, he wasn’t sure if those were servants or visitors. Rather than making a fool of himself and ask, Arlen bee-lined straight for the main door.
Almost at the same moment that he crossed over the threshold, he was approached by a well-groomed older man. From the man’s body language, Arlen gauged that the man was welcoming him. But the words themselves were a jumble of a language he did not understand. It must have been obvious by Arlen’s blank expression that gave the man a hint so smoothly switched to Common.
“Sir,” the man said, his expression unchanged. “Welcome to the Terras manor. How can I help?”
With a hint of a grateful curve in his lips, Arlen clarified his purpose. “I am here to see lady Milana. Artoris Flax, the gem merchant, sent me in his stead to schedule a meeting.” Arlen received a quick look over first and he couldn’t blame the man. It was hard for him to believe he was doing this too.
Their eyes met again. “Yes, lady Milana mentioned you would be coming. Right this way.” And Arlen fell in line following the man who was for certain some kind of servant.
They walked through the spacious main hall with hearth to one side which in this season laid cold and empty like a toothless mouth. The place was quiet too, giving Arlen the impression that no one lived within these walls and he wondered just why people built large empty spaces full of air.
The man took them through a set of doors, entering what looked more like private rooms.
“Please, wait here, sir,” he said and retreated to a second door further down. After a knock he disappeared inside, leaving Arlen in what appeared to be a sitting room. Being left alone, Arlen observed the details of the room with more attention, hoping to glean an insight into who lady Milana might be whilst waiting for her appearance.