Private Tales The Plot of Festivals

[Telemachus]

A job with the Elbion Trading Company? If Telemachus were not the shining beacon of composure he always was, his face would have scrunched up in disgust at the very notion. He was already a scholar and tradesman in his own right. To adopt another line of employment - especially one as beneath him as a merchant - was out of the cards entirely.

"I am already employed," Telemachus said, perhaps somewhat more firmly than usual. "Surely there are means for me to assist you without appointing me the scapegoat."

The Elbionese were scarcely tolerating his position as an instructor at the College. They were not going to let him handle the profits of one of their largest trading consortiums. And if they did, any lost shipments would immediately be pinned on him, given his decisive not-human status.

Why weren't they looking for someone who already had a position?

 

[Douglas Haley]

_______________________

“Employed? Please, you make…”, Eimur pondered it for a second, obviously having forgot what a Maester of the First Order is given to sustain themselves.

“A few gold a month, I imagine. We’re talking thousands here, and its as simply as scapegoating it onto someone else, Telemachus. You really mustn't doubt my influence.”, Eimur said with a hearty chuckle.

Agron did not share the sentiment, quietly turning to Telemachus.

“If nothing else, the extra gold will help you leave faster.”, he said with an obvious venom with obvious implications.

Eimur shot The Plague Doctor a sharp glance, sharper than most of his expressions, only for them to soften just as fast with little more than a lazy glance from Agron. Eimur moved to sit on a nearby chair, practically lifting himself up to sit in its heightened state, a condition obviously meant to compensate for Agron’s massive build. Oddly, his eye level didn’t change from sitting to standing, and obvious statement to his short stature.

“With the in land pirates already raiding shipments, I doubt they’ll single you out, Telemachus. The point of propaganda, of a false flag, is to point towards a single entity; and that is The Black Hand, those rebel peasants seeking to destabilize the council and its power. Surely that is a reasonable endeavor, no?”, he asked with a upwards twist of his tone.

“But, if despite all of this, you think there is a better answer; what would you propose? You’ve plenty of negativity to this, but action would be the only means to secure all of our futures, especially yours.”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Telemachus looked to Agron and pondered, briefly, what consequences would be invoked by sending an Invisible Stalker to eviscerate him in his bed tonight. More than would be worth it in the end, he surmised, and so Telemachus dulled his annoyance by taking a generous sip of his wine.

He would need more wine if the duties of a common merchant were to now be his stock and trade.

"Very well. I will take the post with the trading company."

This was the first he ever heard of a Black Hand. If framing them was what this whole scheme pointed itself towards, then he supposed it made sense. Telemachus would take steps to inoculate himself if things fell apart or if either of these humans attempted to sell him out and be done with it.

 

[Douglas Haley]

_______________________

“You won’t regret it, Master Telemachus.”, Eimur said with a wide grin.

Agron did nothing, seemingly mirroring Telemachus's annoyance, though the resting expression he held seemed to be that in every aspect. A lazy gaze turned from the elf as the figure moved to grab himself more wine, coincidently falling in line with Telemachus’s own need for more. The cause of such was unknown to either.

“Now, as for appearances. The appointment to the Elbion Trading Company will likely be to a manager position; something I can help arrange. All you will have to do is sign the paperwork for another agent of ours to send supplies through a pass to the east; all simple things.”, he said with a casual wave of his hand, as though they weren’t contemplating high conspiracy.

“But do mind Master Telemachus that we won’t likely be able to bring you to the buffets and parties of the upper echelons of Elbion; simply because well…”, his voice trailed off as he looked the elf over from his seated position, only to casually point to the tips of his own ears.

“Merchants aren’t the most accepting folk, you see.”, he said with a quick chuckle.

“Though I’m sure we can make this a bit better for you in terms of studying and residential accommodations…”, he offered, motioning to Agron’s own manor that surrounded them.

“Find a home in the district for sale, and I’ll see what strings I can pull to get you in it. Additionally, I’ll speak to the college to get you more books; on me of course. I’ll have them discreetly sent to your abode whenever you’d like, just ask and you shall receive.”

Again, he trailed off, seemingly content with a smile before chiming in once more. Eimur certainly enjoyed to talk, and showing all that he was worth seemed a favorite pastime of his; a notable reason they called him the generous father of Elbion.

“On a more personal level, tell me of Galen. What is your relationship with him like?”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

“Merchants aren’t the most accepting folk, you see,” said Eimur, giving a light chuckle.

Telemachus' tone was frosted. "I am more than aware."

Good that Eimur found it to be a laughing matter, whereas for Telemachus it was a day-to-day nightmare of atrocious etiquette and being barred from a myriad of spaces both public and private. The list of concessions and personal favors Eimur prattled off would almost make living here tolerable.

Almost.

At least now there was light at the end of the tunnel. Closer to the exit than ever before. Praise the stars. Though this conversation seemed far from over. Now Eimur needed to pester him about his thieving, quasi-literate apprentice, Galen.

"Is that relevant?" Telemachus asked, "He is my apprentice. There is little other consideration I give him, or vice-versa."

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

“I suppose that depends on your answer.”, he chuckled.

“Agron has his reasons for being protective of his apprentice-”, a statement that forced Agron to give a condescending gaze to Eimur. The elder didn’t seem to notice.

“- and I was very protective of Agron when he was my own apprentice, but in all truth, putting them in danger is part of the trade. Helps them learn what the world outside Elbion is like.”

“I’m simply curious, you say there is little consideration you give him, but you’re protective of him? Seems contradictory, personally.”

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

Telemachus raised an eyebrow. Perhaps it was the tendency of the Elbionese to endanger their apprentices at any given opportunity, but that was not the way of the Sidereal Elves. It must be a human thing, Telemachus suspected. Since they all bred so quickly, they were more willing to kill off their progeny in hair-brained schemes.

"This has little to do with his academic career, and so I see no reason to involve him." It was not Telemachus' job to instruct Galen on the workings of the world outside of magical study. The boy was illiterate and raised in the gutter. What could Telemachus possibly know of this wretched city that Galen didn't? Galen had lived here his whole life. Telemachus only a scant few years.

And to imply that such trivialities were his purview at all... Nonsensical. Telemachus was an instructor of magic. Conjuration. High Art. Not some stunted court tutor or chaperone.

He droned on appropriately, "The role of an apprentice is to study magic. Not to be put at the mercy of mobs, or courts, or you."

 

[Douglas Haley]

___________________

Eimur simply watched Telemachus, quiet for the longest period he had been since his arrival. Nothing but slit like eyes and a methodic tapping on his aging chin offered any semblance of movement, but just as quick as he had taken the stance, he had broken it with a wide grin that exposed a few golden teeth, one of which had a magical rune carved into it; the source of which couldn’t be defined.

“Well, he’ll grow up eventually.”, he said as he hopped from the chair. Something about his statement seemed off, but again, Eimur’s substantial life playing politics always seemed to shroud his intentions with glee and enjoyment.

“Would you join us for a night of drinking and forum, Master Telemachus, or would you be departing?”

Agron made his stance on the question obvious by quietly moving towards the door of the room and opening it, but made no further motions as he held his wine.

Telemachus​

 

[Telemachus]

"Yes. I suspect he will."

Unless Galen started dabbling in youth-extending magic and picking fights with incompetent pirates, that was an inevitability. Telemachus turned to look at Agron, who was already holding the door open for him. Such awareness. Such courtesy. It seemed that Telemachus had misjudged Agron Salim after all.

Except no, not really.

Telemachus returned his wine glass, only half-depleted, to where he had picked it up. "I appreciate your offer, but I fear I must be going. It has been a pleasure."

Telemachus bowed respectfully to Eimur before departing, giving Agron no further acknowledgement.