Private Tales The Plot of Festivals

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

The city of Elbion; flourishing with this festival or that many leagues below where Agron stood now. His balcony was his own, accommodated by the soft scent of lavender burned with sage and the tart presence of wine beneath his nose. The air was cool, but not so cold as to make one wish for a jacket; only to appreciate the mildness that surrounded them. It was this eccentric Elbion air that likely lead to the festivities below; as hundreds of college students and rich merchant children took pleasure in the sins of the night.

Sipping on the wine, Agron considered where in the midst of the chaos his apprentice might be. Douglas was notorious for getting into domestic trouble with the merchant guards and their contemporaries, always getting wrapped up in the hairbrained schemes of some gang’s antics. It was luckily always minor, though enough of an annoyance Agron had to offer some sort of punishment. Even still, today he’d like offer amnesty for any of his transgressions, in the good faith of the night.

A knock on the door dragged his attention away from the night, fireworks beginning to blast off over the bay. It seemed Telemachus had arrived.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

The night was dark and crawling with reveling humans - an absolute nightmare. Telemachus did not receive many summons on account of being universally disliked by most of the college's faculty. The previous times he had been summoned it had been the usual talking-down to and blustering of old, withered humans impressing his exact place in the college on him. Dirt. Less than dirt. Far below them. Sniveling outsider.

But most of those men had ten years, maybe less, remaining in their lifespan. Telemachus had centuries. Needless to say their words did not cut as deep as they had hoped. Simpletons.

Telemachus was greeted at the door by some servant, who promptly guided him to the balcony Agron Salim was waiting on. The dark elf could now see quite plainly the mass of humans he had waded through to get here. How unsettling. Telemachus bowed respectfully, quite eager to get this over with.

"Master Salim," he said by way of greeting, then straightened his posture. "You wished to speak with me?"

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Agron was a member of the Fourth Order; near the top echelons of Elbion society since it held such a profound need to respect age and experience over all other traits. Despite this, however, the city held a very strong aversion to elven kind; though it was hard to say if this wasn’t simply because larger elven populations didn’t exist near Elbion, or that Vel Anir’s prejudice seeped in through trade over the last few centuries. The thought was an interesting one, but useless in the grand scheme of things, as the moment required less philosophical consideration, and more political.

With Telemachus walking into the room, Agron’s cold, pallid expression carefully turned to look him over. There was no doubt between the two that Telemachus was the senior, but the excessive harsh expression Agron held as a standard drove his presence and authority far above that of most Mages in the college. Telemachus likely heard the rumors, of how cruel Agron was as an instructor, and how destructive he had been during the Vel Anir wars that called upon Elbion mages as fill-in Dread Lords. They’d come to call him ‘The Plague Doctor’, and for good reason.

Motioning to a small table nearby them with an obviously magically enhanced prosthetic hand, the wine in his glass seemed to emphasize where a bottle of Elbion Merlot stood; a wordless gesture for Telemachus to help himself. A relatively friendly gesture, all things considered. With that, Agron turned back to face the festival, his face lit up in the aggrandized firework displays as he sipped his own drink carefully.

When he finally spoke, his voice came low and even toned, almost apathetic. Everything about the man seemed uncaring, or instilled with some grandeur that betrayed his less than noble history.

“I did.”, he said slowly. “How many years have you lived in Elbion, Master Telemachus?”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Telemachus did not move. He did not partake unless in the privacy of his own home, and especially not with strangers. This went doubly so for strangers who earned themselves monikers like "plague doctor." The dark elf stood in silence, staring at the back of Agron's head while he stared dramatically out at the festival.

Once the plague doctor finally started speaking, it would have been easy to mistake his tone for Telemachus' own. He had gone through this kind of routine many times since showing up in this city. And there was just no counting how many times he'd performed it himself.

There had better be something interesting for him at the end of this. Telemachus was not fond of wasted time.

"Two years," Telemachus replied.

The pleasantries would be dispensed with until Master Salim deigned to look at the person he was speaking with.

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Despite Telemachus’s hope to be considered an equal in the moment, it did not come. Agron didn’t even offer confirmation of his response, simply sipping on his wine and letting silence fill the air once more before he spoke again, his tone never changing;

“I assume you detest these two years?”, he said with a quiet regard. Only then did he turn, looking Telemachus squarely for the first time, revealing the grey eyed nature of his race. Kavoshians were notorious for their own superstition, natural hate given to them by the peasantry, something relatable to most Elves in Elbion;

“I can’t imagine this city has fared well for an elf.”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Detest? Perhaps too strong a word. The humans had no love for Telemachus and he had very little to dispense to them. But it was precisely that measure of mutual disgust that saw him left alone, for the most part. Bar the occasional racist graffiti outside his college office, or the modest dormitory he resided in. Never anything some minor feat of magic couldn't scrub from the walls.

Telemachus imagined they knew better than to act more aggressively. Elf or not, he was still an educator - and one who delved into magic few would dare to tamper with.

"There are worse cities," Telemachus replied. He returned the Kavoshian's stare, featureless eyes unblinking. "I make do."

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Agron offered little more than his own featureless gaze in response, the distant crack of fireworks casting him in a shadow that blurred the definition of his face and left him a mere silhouette against its extravagant backdrop. As it faded, he nodded slightly, mostly in agreement;

“Worse indeed… Vel Anir, for example, would lynch one of your kind for simply looking at a noble.”, he said with a soft shake of his head.

“Even still, would you agree that Elbion could be better? More equal, have more opportunity for growth outside of what it has now?”, the calm, nigh contemptuous voice of the mage offered Telemachus.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

An eyebrow raised. "Perhaps. It is within the realm of possibility."

Most things were within the realm of possibility. That did not mean they were likely. It was possible Elbion could be burned to the ground tomorrow, or stricken with disease and abandoned within the next decade. Either of those events would have solicited the same emotional response as a prospering, egalitarian Elbion.

Telemachus looked away from Agron to consider the fireworks and the mass of humans that were cheering and jeering in response. Or maybe they were just cheering and jeering for the fun of it. Sidereal Elves did not engage in such lurid festivities. It was almost alien to Telemachus.

"But not within the realm of my concern."

Elbion was a stepping stone. One of many. Telemachus knew the shape of his destiny, but not the steps along the way. Elbion would not be his final resting place, so its future - or survival - were decidedly beneath him.

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

“And here I took you for an egalitarian, rather than a pragmatist.”, Agron admitted with little hesitation.

His gaze now fell upon the elf, who himself had chosen the dramatic stance he had detested only a moment before; though it didn’t bother Agron in the same manner. Infact, he cared very little in how much respect the elf showed him, at least visibly; an oddity amongst the rich and fanatic of Elbion’s upper class, as any number of them would be offended merely at poor table manners, electing for their city pass to be revoked and their land repossessed. Elbion had a flair for the dramatic in that sense.

“Tell me then, if you would, what is it you look for out of Elbion?”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Telemachus could have droned on and on about how valuable College's archives were; just how much knowledge he had acquired from his high-level access to the library. There were volumes upon volumes of information he would have not been able to find anywhere else. Telemachus' colleagues and superiors might have despised the art of conjuration, but not enough to start burning books out of their collection.

"A salary," said Telemachus, dry and flat as ever.

Of course, expressing that might have taken up more words than Telemachus was willing to part with. Money was a sufficient enough explanation. Telemachus felt no connection or sympathy for this city he inhabited. It was a resource to be pillaged. Nothing more.

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Agron betrayed nothing as he looked Telemachus seem to mirror his own distant nature, but after a moment he offered a soft groan before shaking his head; speaking lower than before, but still carrying very little in terms of emotion.

“Mendacity.”

Downing the rest of his wine, it took him a moment before he spoke once more, as if he had to contemplate just how he would respond to Telemachus’s answer;

“Are you truly that uninspired, or do you take me for a fool?”, he nigh growled, before his voice settled once more. His cold gaze fell upon the elf in full once more;

“Everyone has an aim in this city, Master Telemachus. What is yours?”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

The Kavoshian was growling and groaning now. It would be a lie to say that Telemachus felt no consternation at such a display. This was, after all, a magical plague doctor. If Agron Salim was at all bothered by the answers Telemachus gave, he would find his kin absolutely infuriating. Perhaps not for the terseness of their answers, but for the tediousness of it all.

Agron came from a land where everyone had some grand, overarching scheme - or otherwise a byzantine web of intrigue woven behind him. Sidereal Elves would seem quite tedious in comparison, as Telemachus presently was.

"I am a simple scholar attempting to make my way in the world," Telemachus replied again, as if addressing a skeptical customs agent. "If you require something of me, Master Salim, I will hear it. Otherwise this manner of inquiry is better suited to take place during my office hours."

Telemachus' ability to tolerate this sort of vague, elusive small-talk was directly proportionate to whether or not he was currently obliged to receive it. Although normally it was just some ill-disciplined adept attempting to negotiate for Telemachus' endorsement in one matter or another, rather than... Whatever this was.

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Mage of the Fourth Order, wise and respected amongst his peers when they did not fear him for his unruly youth; Agron held much in terms of reputation, but where he excelled in intrigue and martial prowess, there was always something lacking with his diplomacy. With his cool demeanor puncture for only a moment, he simply sighed, not out of embarrassment, but more so a tired exasperation that left nothing to the imagination. They both knew the game Telemachus was playing, but the only one who wanted to keep playing was the elf.

Instead, Agron walked from the balcony and set his now empty glass down. His form wandered to the nearby bookcase, sliding a finger over it before pulling from it an exceptional old tome; likely a first edition, not something readily available in the public library Elbion offered, and certainly out of the grasps of an elf like Telemachus. Something about trust from the College’s council barred him from such, but that was hardly the real reason.

With careful dexterity, he prodded through the pages as he sat down, saying nothing to the elf as he seemed to fall into reading. The entire thing seemed odd, but the fact of the matter was that Agron had simply grown tired of the conversation far too quick, and his general therapy to such annoyance was to study; though it certainly held an outlying purpose. His gaze fell on the door before turning to Telemachus once more;

“I require nothing of you. In truth, I find you disappointing.”, he said with his monotonous charm.

“However, I’m not the one who requested you.”

As he finished, a soft knock on the door came as the same servant who had shown Telemachus in offered a shy, yet kindred smile, poking his head in to disturb the conversation for only a moment;

“Maester Emisol is here, Sir.”

Agron offered nothing, not even a nod to the servant before turning his attention back to the book. Entering the room however was a small, rosy cheeked man with a beard nigh as old as him and a smile that reached ear to ear. If not for the bushy, full bodied nature of his brow, one might almost assume his forehead was half the size it should have been, but all attention to his aged appearance broke as he spoke in his semi-jubilant tone;

“Ah, Master Telemachus. I see you beat me here -”, Eimur said, reaching a hand out to greet him;

“I trust Agron has treated you well?”

Although no obvious jest could be heard, Agron gave neither a look as he instead offered a small grunt from the covers of his book, forcing Eimur to look towards him and furrow his brow slightly, muttering low enough that the Plague Mage couldn’t hear the two;

“Old menace only reads his books when he’s mad. Hope he hasn’t bit ya’?”, Eimur asked as a twinkle formed in his azure eyes.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Not even Telemachus could hide his bafflement as Agron Salim wandered off to have himself a read. Such petulance. An Empath could have had a field day with this man, if any practitioners of that brand of simpleton's magic still remained at large. Telemachus had half a mind to leave right then and there, but apparently another Master had just arrived.

What was this supposed to be? A party? If it were Master Emisol had need of him, why was he being dragged to this warlock's manse? Telemachus shook Eimur's hand politely but failed to return the smile.

"Master Agron's hospitality has exceeded all expectations," Telemachus droned in response, answering both inquiries at once - and in a manner where Agron would clearly hear him. "He mentioned you have need of me."

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Telemachus’s mention went either unnoticed, or unacknowledge as Agron simply turned another page in his book. As time went on, it became painfully obvious why so many in the college spoke ill of Agron; coming with a short temper, and an otherwise flat personality, it wasn’t hard to guess why the man was single into his fifties, with nothing to show for it besides a single apprentice. How he even dealt with it seemed mysterious in the moment.

Eimur however simply shook his head, knowing full and well that Agron did little to mediate the situation, nor offer any diplomatic draw. Of course, Eimur also knew he relied on Agron for entirely different matters, so in the end it didn’t mean much. Walking towards the wine himself, he poured a glass and spoke as he did so;

“I do, yes.”, the Merchant Council Member said.

Being within the top five members of Elbion gave him a certain authority, one that carried with him in spite of his short demeanor and rosy cheeks. The man seemed more a drunken fool, despite his sobriety, and yet he spoke with a dignity that did not betray his position, at least in its entirety. The joy in his aging tone was oddly endearing, despite it all.

“Do you know anything about the treaties that keep Elbion sovereign? Ancient articles, written back when Ganfritz Elbion still controlled the city. Made every King, Duke, and Count in a thousand mile radius respect Elbion’s sovereignty.”, the aging Mage said as he finished pouring himself the wine. He took a moment to pause, smelling it from the glass before walking back to Telemachus with his nigh impressionable grin.

“Without that pressure from a ruler, Elbion has flourished in trade and education - Oh, but you aren’t here for a history lesson.”, he interjected with a short belly laugh.

“Cintria, the Kingdom to the east, has been trying to subvert that sovereign nature we’ve held onto for so long. Seeking to take the largest trading port west of Alliria, and its doing so through instigating conflict between the peasantry and our mages… Trying to lure them into a sense of victimhood.”, he said as his gaze fell on the festival outside.

The sound of Agron turning a page broke into their conversation before Eimur spoke again;

“Young King Ysira is looking for a chance to build up his forces on the backs of our magic influence…”, he said somewhat more distantly, only to turn to Telemachus with a bit more earnest nature.

“You may not be well acquainted with Elbion, and I dare say not likely to see it in a good light, but I see council, Master Telemachus. They’ve reached out to me through a network, ask me to help them in exchange for much. You’ve age beyond most in the city, so I ask just this-”, he said as he took down a bit more of wine than he meant.

“What do you think I should do? What we should do?”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

This was already suspicious. What reason could there possibly be for this line of questioning? A litmus test for loyalty, Telemachus suspected. These puffed-up, arcane educators scarcely consulted him for things within his domain, much less petition him for political thoughts... And even less so for actual, political advice! Apparently Agron was right to treat everyone like they were enveloped in conspiracy.

Rather than let insects get stuck in the web, these Elbionese spiders dragged the web around and flung it over every passing stranger. How distressing.

Well, fine. If they wanted Telemachus' advice, he would give it. But even a stick-in-the-mud like Telemachus would need wine for this. "You'll excuse me if I have little knowledge of Cintria or the people who govern it." The Sidereal Elf moved to the table and poured himself a glass as he replied, "Is there any reason to suspect Cintria will not simply dispose of you - and your co-conspirators - once it has mined you for usefulness and taken Elbion?"

Telemachus swirled the wine, contemplatively.

"Are you at all certain that the Merchant Council's own agents aren't already aware that you have been approached? And that you are now actively seeking advice from foreigners?"

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Eimur stood idle as Telemachus spoke, making his way across the room to grab the wine Agron had already offered. Agron did nothing of the sort, instead turning a page in his book at an exceptionally obnoxious volume, garnering a quick glance from Eimur; speaking as he turned back, he offered a surprisingly kindred smile to Eimur despite the conversational topic.

“Hard to say. Cintria has been on a warpath to unify their de jure lands, and has a history of enslaving or otherwise exiling those who don’t show an inspiring amount of loyalty.”, the aging Council member said.

“As far as the Merchant’s Council, no. I’ve heard no reports, seen nothing. At this point, I’d assume messagers have moved to speak to each of them, casting a wide net I suppose.”

As Eimur spoke, his age seemed to take a bit more emphasis on his stance, forcing him to wander over to a larger chair next to a whiskey stand. Though not pouring himself a drink, he glanced it over, fingering one of the glasses slightly before turning back to Telemachus;

“Take no offense to this, Master Telemachus, but I ask your opinion for that exact reason. You have an outside opinion, while most of Elbion is swayed too easily by coin.”, he said shaking his head, forcing his beard to drag against his ornate robes.

“Besides, you’re not exactly well known.”, he said with a growing smile, “Its that, or I ask the old grouch over there, and get the basic ‘kill them’ response.”, Eimur said with an obvious jab at Agron.

Agron glanced to the two from the corner of his eye, but offered nothing else as he turned a page.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Swayed too easily by coin. Hah. If only Eimur had been here to witness Telemachus previously swearing on his salary. Maybe then he would have found something else to differ the Sidereal Elf from the rest of Elbion, or otherwise just dismissed him. Telemachus had no stake in this city and, no matter how deeply he searched his emotions, he could truly not care whether or not it was brought under the rule of Cintria.

Not even a little.

"As I previously expressed to Master Salim, I do not have a personal preference as to what happens to Elbion."

Oh, but this wasn't the response Eimur was looking for. Too bad, Telemachus supposed. Who could have guessed that an aloof, disinterested foreignes with a history of being looked down on by the whole of this city's elite was reluctant to care overmuch for its future? Stars knew Agron must have felt similarly if the breadth of his advice was truly "kill them all."

Sure Telemachus lived here, but that would be rectified if there was to be a protracted conflict between helpless Elbion and a regional power. Telemachus himself would need to pay for several important texts - texts he had not found elsewhere - to be copied for him. Then he would make arrangements to leave this city. If it came down to a siege, he did not want to be here for it.

Telemachus would sell this city just as easily as he would save it. The only thing preventing either scenario was that no one had given him a beneficial reason to do so.

Telemachus smelled his wine delicately and gave a shrug. "I can only advise you depending on what it is you wish to do, out of respect to your seniority. If you are truly unsure how to proceed, I recommend you start by assessing which party would be better equipped to look after your needs - whatever they may be."

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

“Having no preference makes you impartial.”, Eimur said, “Surely you shouldn’t undersell yourself here.”

The more he spoke, the more it became obvious why he was considered a ‘fatherly’ figure for Elbion’s Mage population. His somewhat eccentric nature aged like wine in his long tenure, now matched by the short stature of a faintly comforting presence. Yet, as Telemachus and him talked, there was something beneath it all, something Telemachus had likely already surmised.

“What would an old man like me have to gain anymore?”, he said as his attention fell to the festival outside. His short legs slowly carried him across the room, an idle hand methodically stroking at the grey whiskers of his beard.

“As someone else with such age, what do-”, he began before Agron interrupted;

“Before you finish, no. He likes money.”, the contrast of his apathy striking like a hammer against the anvil that was Eimur’s jubilant nature. It coaxed a quick glance from him, but nothing more.

“Well, glad to see you have something in mind.”, Eimur said quietly.

“What if Cintria were to pay an excessive sum? What would you do with that, Master Telemachus?”

For the perceptive, one could almost make out the soft groan Agron muttered as he turned another page in the aging tome in his hand, threatening to fall apart at his mere touch.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Sidereal Elves had often been referred to as alien or cruel in their weighing of options. They pursued what benefited them most. And with a lot of money, Telemachus could certainly continue his studies and finance several side operations. More rapidly than he would be able to with his current salary.

All Elves were patient. It came with the territory of an advanced lifespan. That did not mean they were adverse to speeding up the process where opportunities presented themselves. Telemachus sipped his wine, swishing the contents to taste before swallowing and speaking again.

"I would conclude my studies here and leave this place."

Not before acquiring the texts, or copies of the texts, he needed for his personal pursuits. And he would need to leave an agent here in Elbion to act in his interests as required. But they did not need to know the particulars of that. Telemachus tolerated this city only for his current access to the library and the procurement of the money he needed.

If money were no longer an object and he could afford to leave someone behind who he could call on - then Telemachus would not remain.

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

“And where would you go?”, he said inquisitively.

The near dwarf of a man still stood in the balcony, silhouetted by the fireworks and jeerings happening a few stories below where they stood now. Although Telemachus likely wasn’t used to it, the view from the upper residential areas reserved for high ranking college mages and rich merchants had a certain flare; one that couldn’t be denied. It seemed fitting, almost poetic that geographically the rich looked down upon the rest of the city, but its view overshadowed any subtle meaning behind it.

“If, by chance, you’re interested; I believe we could come to some sort of deal. In a sense, you assist me and Agron, and we take advantage of the situation.”, he said with a seemingly false pragmatism.

“I doubt Elbion will hold out against the crashing waves of the Cintrians, not long at least. Minimizing damage to the city and its archives, and securing power and wealth post annexation all seems like the best option; in face of those short sighted enough to think ‘liberty’ and a sovereign nation will make much of a difference under Ysira’s heel.”

He ended it with a laugh, the first of which he had done that seemed orientated at any group of people. Eimur came off as a wholesome, loving man who stood as a role model for much of the college; and it was hard to say just where his actual intentions lied, only that what he expressed now seemed fairly different to the usual trend of his mannerisms.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

"I am amenable to any agreement that will hasten my departure," Telemachus said, cold indifference making little impact on Eimur as usual. It was evident that he was deliberately not answering the question as to where he was going. The fewer who knew the details of Telemachus' business, the better.

He had no reason to entrust that information to someone who would so easily sell out the place of their birth. And Agron, meanwhile... Need Telemachus even explain himself?

Telemachus took a deeper sip of his wine this time, then continued. "What would you have me do?"

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Eimur didn’t seem to press the issue, either because he didn’t care or he hadn’t noticed Telemachus grazed over the question. Whatever the reason, it didn’t seem to matter, as he quickly moved forward in the conversation to Telemachus’s pleasure;

“I imagine I’ll have to get you in contact with Artorius et Orion; Cintria’s spymaster, you see…”, he said as a thumb stroked his hair covered chin.

“But, I imagine whatever they’d ask. As far as what they want of me-”, he began. As he did so Agron had quietly put the book away, walking back to the group with the same cold indifference Telemachus offered. His arms crossed in front of his chest, one of which now became obvious that it was a metallic, magically infused prosthetic with a few ornate gems that held some unknown purpose.

“-, they ask that I help guide the hand of politics. Take martial law over Elbion, in light of the rising tension. I can do much of that myself, I imagine, but I do need your help to get to where it might make sense.”

“Agron tells me you have an apprentice. Galen, old slum child who barely made it past the entrance exams, history as a thief. Few of the Merchant guards said they knew of him. I imagine we put him and Douglas-”, he said as he motioned to Agron, “- Agron’s apprentice, into a situation where they have no choice but to defend themselves.”

“A false accusation tends to raise a crowd. Of course, I’ll come to their defense with evidence to the contrary of whatever the lynch mob would assume, but it could help ignite the cesspool that has been forming over the last few decades.”

“Unless you have a better idea of course?”

Agron didn’t seem to express anything on the matter, not displeasure nor agreement, only a cold indifference as his seemingly unblinking low gaze never left Telemachus, as if gauging his every muscle movement.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

The Sidereal Elf nearly scoffed. Telemachus doubted there was enough money in Orion's budget to make him to come up with a better plot. Besides, human minds understood human minds far better than Telemachus. Humans were flighty and prone to bouts of... Emotion. Telemachus and his kin were not.

"I am familiar with Douglas Haley, yes," Telemachus replied, colder than usual.

Telemachus was disinclined to allow the imprisonment or death of his apprentice. If it came to such a state, he would be forced to intervene, and the results would become fairly destructive if subtlety failed. That would likely play into the Cintrians' plans, however, and exacerbate the conflict. Good for them either way.

But not for Telemachus.

"I am opposed to the willful endangerment of my apprentice," said the Elf. "You will find another."

The Antikathri placed near religious-importance on apprenticeships. Galen was not very useful in the grand scheme of things, but to bear responsibility for the death of a pupil... Well, it was something of a taboo. A severe taboo. And even as far removed from his kin as he was, Telemachus was not willing to break it.

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

“What about yourself?”, he said with the same methodical stroke of the beard.

Eimur was shorter than both Agron, who himself stood nearly six and a half feet himself, and Telemachus. In every sense of the word, he was short, but it didn’t seem to betray the authority he commanded as he spoke, and it showed itself as he spoke again;

“More importantly, the Cintrian’s apparently have full control over the rebellious elements of the city. Should we give you a position with the Elbion Trading Company, using it to begin funneling income to you, what of using an import shipment as bait? Having a large bit of trade stolen will help raise the concerns of the traders in the city.”

“It could be a viable alternative to endangering either of your apprentices.”, Eimur said as he looked between them.

Agron however hadn’t looked away from Telemachus, though a simple nod showed he was listening;

“Although I doubt Douglas would be in danger-”, vague contempt lining his tone, “- I too would rather him be in less danger. The shipment dossier being leaked to the rebels could certainly raise tensions.”

“Followed by raids on possible hideouts, only for it to be false hints. The false imprisonments and perceived tyranny could bring more to their cause, flaring the conflict.”

“Excellent idea, Agron. Telemachus, anything to add?”

Telemachus​