[Frigid River] The Troubles With Elementalism (Oracle Please!)

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Timestamp: Autumn of Era XI, postdated to follow Eren's Mastery thread (Feel free to nail down dates)

Posted TS with Permission from GM Oracle

~~~~~
A wistful sigh escaped parted lips as the single white feather fluttered upwards, capriciously rising before floating off whimsically to the side. Deft fingertips caught it before it hit the soft plush bedding of the mattress, almond-shaped eyes trailing as the feather was brought back to his lips, another soft exhale spurring it into ascension once more.

He was dealing with the controversial issue of time. How much of it did he have? How much of it could he afford here, could he spend there? It was like a bargaining chip, an asset of which he didn’t hold the reigns of. No, Phedos was holding the cards now. Erenthril readily recognized that for what it was; the God of Strategy and Tactics as well as Mischievousness and Trickery was calling the shots now, Eren was nothing more than a pawn on the chessboard as he moved from square to square. It was a trifling situation that exasperated the Elementalist from time to time, an issue he couldn’t quite wrap his mind about as he considered the possibilities of what life he now possessed. What he could do and not do, what he was obligated to perform and what he could desire of his own free will. Saying it still existed. Once upon a time, Phedos had discussed with Eren the reasoning behind the “divine plan.” Let the Elves do what they want to do, give them the power of choice like the Allerians. And what had Phedos said on the subject? “You morons haven’t accomplished a single thing,” paraphrased of course, but similar.

Twirling the Juiv feather in his fingertips, his thoughts reflected upon his time with Rasine, Nikolas, Laura and Rigel. Funny how he’d come to respect the Archmystic only to be enshrouded in second doubts and misgivings upon leaving Rasine there. ‘He cannot read your mind and thus is wary of you,’ Phedos had murmured to him at one point, a keen distinction of trust that had put Eren on the losing side of that spectrum quite easily. She had been a lovely little thing, but a bit too attached for the Elementalist’s comfort. After all, she’d hardly let go of him since the night he’d saved her life – scratch that – since the night Phedos had saved her life. Who ever knew that a God could help him pick up beautifully attractive women and have them groping all over him for a few brightenings?

A small smile tugged at the edges of his lips, but disappeared readily enough.

It was time to get to work.

Sitting up, he tucked the feather back into the pocket he’d found it from, and began to roll up his sleeves. Funny how he should do that, a copy-trick learned from Laura. Dismissing the fond memories, he took a deep breath and stood up, skirting the edges of the bed and peering out the window at the quaint, small peaceful little village of Frigid River. He’d spend the rest of the season here if he could, had it not been for his patron’s persistent prodding. No doubt he was watching now.

Well, at least I’m getting started.

Slowly, Erenthril took out the Ring of Thorns his Journeyman instructor, Mommiette, had given to him when learning imbuements. Although it harbored no charges presently, the Elf was intimately familiar with its Vis pattern, hence his subtle confidence he’d perform halfway decent with this upcoming enchantment. Tossing a hasty glance to the Staff of Phedos in the corner of the room, Eren set the ring down upon a nightstand, placing the unlit candle atop of the bed and picking up the wooden object and placing it in the center of the room, before the window. Turning, he sat on the bed opposite of it, placing the wooden structure with the ring atop of it between him and the light filtering through the transparent glass.

Erenthril’s eyes focused, narrowing at the slightest of emeralds upon the middle latch of the ring. In reality, it had been Mommiette’s belt, a Fae-sized stylistic fashion with traces of gold to unclasp it. Erenthril’s fingers were far too cumbersome to make way with strapping it together, but that still didn’t deny the jewel present for the imbuement or enchantment. Another fond memory flickered into his head and his brow furrowed, recalling how he’d struggled the first few times with grasping the arcanomechanics behind a ‘right and proper’ imbuement. A slight chuckle, and then that thought, too, was dismissed.

Slipping through meditation into a state of Clara, Erenthril began to draw upon his replenished Vis reserves and the Ara manifested about himself in the Astral Plane. Combining the two together, he mixed and matched as the Arcalysis readily formed, proceeding to channel from all four respective spheres. Air came readily enough, followed by the fluidity of water, the bulky tundra of earth, and the seductive ambition of fire. The spell’s weave was costly, though he had three chances to nail it down properly. Any spell that called for the combination of all four elements was bound to be far from trivial, and the Elementalist sharpened his brow as he began to shape it correctly. He began with the abjuration of the Essences, seeing to it that all went well before moving onto the physical aspects of the spell with an alteration that would denote the shield about himself. Conjuration was well practiced and exceptionally patient in the shaping process given he had to balance all four elementsl harmoniously with one another so as to prevent a tip in the scales of balance – one overcoming the others would render him back to the beginning. As the arcanic potential of the spell began to flicker into existence, the Master Elementalist finished with an evocation of the energies into the shield, setting everything in order.

Next was the trickier part, if one could believe it.

Enchantments were fickle creatures; mess one up and you could be lost unto the world forever. He knew how to do it though; especially after Laura’s systematical impartation of the how-do process. He began by denaturing the ring’s properties, essentially re-creating the petty thing’s existence as he separated the Ara from the Vis. Very carefully, he began to mold the Elemental Shield spell with the object’s Ara pattern, arranging the two together as he checked over briefly for any kinks. Once this was done, and he made damn sure of it, he quietly undid the denaturizing process and allowed the spell to ravel itself back into its existence, hopefully along with his weave’s configuration.

Taking a deep breath and wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead, the Syl’rosyian Elflord turned to inspect the ring’s pattern from a state of Clara, scrutinizing the spell’s relationship with the ring for any possible errors that would harm the overall effects.

[Oracle]

OOC: *sneaks in a tiny "Approved" stamp, lets him proceed with his nefarious plans... runs off to find the SoF and meddle* I'll write a longer more meaningful post later.

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Perfect.

The Syl’rosyian Elflord stood up and stretched, leaning forward and selecting the gift Mommiette had given him off of the nightstand. Studying it from a physical standpoint, he smiled softly for memory’s sake before slipping it onto his middle right finger, just to the left of his golden House signet ring. The small studded emerald gem complimented it perfectly. He risked a glance out of the window. Frigid River was far more complicated from the average citizen’s view, more complex than it was given credit for. The quaint little market town actually seemed to have some depth within it. Still, things had to be done. The Heru Mael’tharias had reserved a large amount of time for his affairs this brightening, noting he hadn’t necessarily planned to do much otherwise – Phedos was a God, he could afford to wait a little.

Keen emerald eyes took into account the white loopy text that denoted the Stables, engraved silently upon the stone as a cool smile flitted across his red lips. Hands smoothed out the rebellious unruly chocolate tresses of his hair before traveling downwards to smooth out the potential wrinkles that sought to mire his visage. He had to appear professional, and professional he appeared; garbed in his best emerald green dress robes with his hair thrown over his shoulders. Quietly, he ran through what he would say, how he would greet the owner. He was reciting what he would say in his mind, trying to recall what he’d told the previous Manager of the Trepwood Stables in Syl’rosya. He had a knack for horses that much was true, but with the sudden memory lapses spurred on by anxiety, he felt far more unprepared than confident in this specific scenario played out before him.

Striding up the small luscious green hill the stables sat upon, the Elf waved down the nearest person in view. “Vedui!” a friendly voice, calm and comforting, “you wouldn’t happen to know where the owner of this lovely establishment is, would you?”

[Oracle]

People did tend to discount Frigid River in preference to its larger cousin, Mystique. Still, it was a power in its own right, and cherished by its populace. The population here seemed to be aging slowly though, without a terribly large number of youth and fresh blood flowing in to replace it. The Stables were a bright spot of color among the sameness of the buildings, differentiated most often by the merest touches -- window boxes, perhaps a red chimney instead of gray, things of that sort.

The boy he called out to looked up in some surprise from the wheelbarrow he was pushing. "Oh, er..." His eyes darted back the way he had come. "He's probably up at the house now for a bit of something to eat. It's right up that way." His hand pointed the way amongst the buildings to a smallish single-story house nestled between two tall trees. It seemed this was not the owner's primary residence, but sort of a waypoint for the employees to stop for a bit to eat or to rest. The door was slightly ajar when he stepped under the eaves, and he heard people inside talking.

Once he pushed the door open, the chatter stopped, and he found himself in a small foyer that fed into a short hallway, at the end of which was a large dining room. The table here had eight chairs, and three of them were filled. There was only one man, seated at the left end of the table, and two women that appeared to be related to each other -- humans, all three. The man rose, patting his slightly rotund stomach as he brushed sandwich crumbs from it. The remnants of an impromptu meal were evident -- plates with crumbs, a basket with a few rolls in it still, along with a little crock of butter.

"Hello there," the man said, smiling broadly. He was a generic sort of man, about Erenthril's height, with light sandy brown hair cut to his ears at a rakish angle, and his clothing was not that of a common laborer, but certainly not that of an Elflord. He offered his left hand. "I'm Simon Hanover. Were you looking for me?"

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

"Amin Heru Erenthril en'iKard''Mael'tharias."

Erenthril spoke softly, ensuring his title was included within the initial introduction. It would be a crucial asset, he feared, when it came to proposing a final decision. He paused for a moment then, his brow furrowing at a brief reflection of the human’s name, before holding his hand out for a shake. Still, the man wasn’t an Elf, so chances were he’d just pass all the glib Eren’s lithe and vigorous tongue had spilled as simply one long title. Common, Erenthril decided, will be much better. "My sincerest apologies if this sounds sudden, but I found no better candlemark to approach you than this one. You see, I have a lucrative business offer to propose to you," Erenthril stated calmly, hoping to catch the man's attention. He was still rather new to Frigid River, but that didn’t stop him from trying to expand what could be a profitable franchise on the Western Frontiers. The Trepwood Stables, his establishment in Syl’rosya, was very well known for the pure breed of Elven Windsteppers it sold for fashionable high prices. What’s more, it was rather close by.

Erenthril patiently awaited to see what the Manager would do. Eren was always up to talk practically anywhere, except in bed, and it would make no difference to him if they discussed a potential investment in front of the two women or the boy that had greeted him.

"My offer to you and your establishment, is simple...so I'll keep things short," Erenthril grinned; the man was probably thankful for that. Still, patience was a keen virtue, but questions had to be asked. After all, why waste his cards if they couldn’t be dealt? "Well,” he frowned visible as he concluded his thoughts, “I suppose I should ask you if you’re willing to sell the ownership in the first place. Management would still be under your name, you’d still run the business and keep your current employees…just subtle changes. But…ah well I’ll come out with it. You’re probably wondering why you’d want to anyways. I’m willing to immediately turn over ten thousand crowns for current maintenance and repairs to the stables you have here,” Eren waved a hand to the door and window, “as well as offer economic sanctity from your competitors. I happen to own the Trepwood Stables in Lauryll, and Heru Susspin of Syl’rosya is a very superb friend of mine – I’d be willing to import and export various breeds of horses to offer your stables more lucrative varieties in terms of what it sells,” he paused hesitantly, trying to gauge the man’s initial reaction.

The Elf knew he was being rather bold and aggressive about everything. But then, had he stopped after his initial question of whether or not Simon would sell the business…well, the unspoken question would obviously be why.

And it was Erenthril’s job to persuade him.

[Oracle]

The man's smile seemed to waver a moment, but brightened some as his unlikely guest finally offered his hand. Formalities over with, he retracted the hand, instead rubbing his jaw as Eren switched to the common tongue. While the humble horsemaster did not know how to speak Elvish, nor had he socialized with many elves, he did have a fairly high respect for them. Nodding as Eren offered up his mention of a business offer, Simon gestured for Erenthril to go on.

The question of selling made his mouth twitch, and he listened with his head cocked as Eren went on to describe the list of things he would bring to the table. "Well..." he drawled the word, rocking back and forth on his heels as a pensive look crossed his face. "I'll admit I don't have much of a head for horses," he said candidly. "I inherited the place from my uncle. Most of the business has been going to the stables up in Mystique lately... But if you think you can do better, I suppose it'll be no harm in selling out to you."

A shrewder light leapt up in his eye, and he said, "But I know enough not to settle for gentlemen's agreements. We'll draw up a contract and go from there, shall we?"

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Erenthril nodded. A classical textbook case, thank Phedos there was at least some portion of Telath that still turned round. Taralon had been a bit pricey on his budget, the Primus Countryside equally so in terms of setting up shop. Frigid River, it would hopefully seem, was going to turn into a business he could turn around with profitable circumstances lest he stumble in the next part.

“Mystique you say? I’m headed in that general direction, perhaps I should take a look,” he nodded amiably, a sincere smile coming across his lips with the genuine twinkle in his eye. He was warming up to this Simon already. “A contract! Excellent idea,” he nodded, removing the parchment and quill along with a vial of ink he’d prepared for such cases as these. After all, he’d learned a thing or two from his excursions to Syl’rosya and Taralon in terms of offering business. Still, the man standing before him was shrewd. He’d have to make sure everything was a fair gamble to prevent himself from being conned.

“Very well. I shall write out the terms of agreement that we agree upon, and compile together the lists while we discuss them. Sound good?” he asked and paused for an answer, looking for a hard wooden surface before dipping the tip of his quill into the ink. He then proceeded to date the document and label it out as the contract. “Where shall we start…how about the name? Do we agree that if I buy this establishment, it shall keep its current name? And its current staff? I feel those are two key essentials in present a fair and agreeable trade,” the Elf glanced over at the man – they were two benefits to Simon’s cause as opposed to Eren’s. Not that the Elementalist minded. He moved on, “Second. I will invest ten thousand crowns immediately into this establishment to revitalize its business and pay off for the maintenance it may be lacking. This will provide your management with a nice chunk of change to work with, a starting ground I suppose,” he smiled, again pausing to see what the man would say. After discussion, he’d move onto the third point. “Lastly, I will extend trade and economic sanctity in terms of importations. A trade agreement will be set up with the Trepwood Stables in Syl’rosya, and we’ll expand upon your collection of Elven Windsteppers, as well as several other breeds that pass through the hands of the Silrosian Stockade. What’s more, House Mael’tharias – whom I preside over – can and will insure all your belongings within the storefront. Should you suffer some catastrophe, we will set you back on your feet and preserve the establishment to the best of our abilities. Caravans and trade will be negotiated with Jael Susspin in Syl’rosya, along with the protection of your wares. Further, should you choose to do so, House Mael’tharias could extend its services in protection and work would you need it,” the Elf took a deep breath, smile flickering as he waited again. Several benefits towards Simon.

Now he’d move onto what he would like from the transaction.

“In return, I would like ownership of the establishment. You would still manage it, of course, much as you have been, but with the assistance of House Mael’tharias and the Trepwood Stables. I’m not asking for the business’s revenue or income. Not even half of it. I’m well aware much of it goes to taxes, the business transactions in itself, and the salary of those who work for you. What I am asking for, however, is a realistic portion of what the establishment profits each cycle in return for our protection, investment, insurance, and trade agreements that will…subsequently, increase your value and competition against Mystique,” another deep breath. There, he’d summarized it nicely, or so he thought. Uncertain if he should write this down, he waited for the man’s questions, comments, and concerns about such matters.

[Oracle]

The man nodded and gestured for Eren to have a seat at the long oaken table before he himself sat down. "I don't really care about the name, but I do want the staff to stay on. There's four of them; two of them have been here since I was a child, and they know what they're doing." Simon watched as the Elflord's quill moved over the page.

Silently he nodded as his new business partner went down the list of offerings. Ten thousand was a nice chunk of change, and would go far to making repairs to the existing buildings as well as expanding the grounds, as he would no doubt need to do. It was a smallish business at this juncture after all, turning out perhaps three or four hundred crowns a cycle. Some of that had to do with the running costs, which could be pared down and profits increased with the addition of Windsteppers to the list of offerings.

Simon leaned his forearms on the table and perked a bit as Erenthril went on to describe what he wanted. "Right now I can offer you three hundred crowns a cycle. We had a wildfire here last month that destroyed one of the barns and killed a few horses. Our stock is a bit depleted, but we have a good crop of yearlings. Obtaining some of your Windsteppers and will help quite a bit -- the nobility around here has a preference for them. I know the stables down in Mystique don't have any right now. I'd imagine that's your doing," he said with a sly grin. "A little extra breeding stock will go far. If you're willing to be patient this place can easily be turned around. I was doing nearly a thousand crowns' profit a cycle last pattern, before the wildfire and such."

Scratching his chin, he said, "Truth be told, I've wanted to sell out. My wife wants to go East to visit her family, but we haven't been able to for a while. It would be nice." He didn't want to seem like a pushover, being too eager to drop the Stables into Eren's hands, but it was a relief. That is, if the Elflord still wanted the place, knowing what sort of disarray it was in. A little sweat and labor would get the buildings and pastures into good shape, some knowledgegable hands, a little fresh horseflesh and some judicious advertisement and the business would soon be booming.

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Erenthril nodded twice.

“The name we’ll keep the same, then, if only to appease your current cliental,” he murmured quietly as he scribbled down the agreement, listing out each part of the contract with bullets and a variety of numbers to complete subsections. He was getting rather experienced with this sort of thing, this…writing up of contracts, negotiations, and diplomacy. He had a flare for it, he liked to think, at least when he was successful.

Eyebrows rose at the mention of a wildfire, and emerald green almonds tore from the page he was writing upon to look at Simon’s face. “You don’t say?” the Elf murmured quietly in half-awe and half-disdain. The price didn’t worry him. The amount of money it would take to rebuild aforementioned barn did, however. “Very well. Part of that ten thousand crowns will be filtered into replacing the barn with an adequate one. We can probably use the rest to expand upon any others you may have – and fix the fences. Or…I could create a stone wall around your corals and pens, if you like?” the Elementalist grinned ruefully, finishing the last block of text before making two lines for each of their names. He set the quill down beside the parchment and stood up to allow Simon a seat so the Medonian could review the information there. All of it pertained to the conversation.

“I’m a Master Elementalist. I can make the stone wall that encircles the property, then take a closer look at the area burned by the wildfire…see if I can’t shift around the soil a bit to even it out and hopefully let new grass grow. Speaking of which, would you mind introducing me the staff of this establishment, as well as perhaps a tour around the stables? That way I can get an idea of what we’re looking at…I’ll need the deed also…” the Elementalist mentioned the last part almost absently, his hands fishing in his pockets as they pulled out the leather-bound cheque book. To solidify the deal, and perhaps help ease the man’s decision, he scribbled in the ten-thousand crown amount and made it out to the Stables – leaving his signature blank, of course, until he had the man’s own upon the contract form. Pausing, he looked up to see what Simon would do.

[Oracle]

Simon slid into the seat proferred, pulled the parchment closer to him, and peered at the writing while the Elementalist went on talking. Absently he nodded, once, then twice. While Erenthril set about writing his cheque, Simon finished his perusal of the contract. Seeing that nothing had been slipped in without his approval, the man smiled. "Of course. Elsie, will you run and get the deed?" One of the two women nodded and rose from the table, hurrying out in a flurry of skirts and slippers.

"Anything you can do with the burned out area will help. We had a lightning storm and I guess it sparked off somewhere and ripped through the south corner of the property and took out a few pastures and most of that barn. I've already got people lined up to start the reconstruction, we were just..." he paused, aware of how this was going to sound to him, "waiting on the money," he finished ruefully. Just then, the woman bustled back in with a folded document tucked inside an oilcloth bearing a wax seal. Taking it from his wife's hand, Simon broke the seal and opened it, passing the deed to Eren. It detailed the size of the property and its attendant buildings, just as it should.

"Do you want to sign all this now, or after your tour, when you're satisfied of things?" Simon rose from the table, tugging his vest down to adjust it.

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Erenthril smiled and took the deed gracefully, murmuring a small thank you to both the woman who got it and the man who retrieved it for him. Flipping open the documents, his eyes scanned across the identification papers, the allotted space the stables owned, and the respective amount of buildings that were located in an organized fashion atop of that place. A small map had been sketched along with the deed, and a brief and thorough examination at the bottom displayed the owner’s signature as well as that of the Aedile’s a the time the deed was wrought. No doubt the current Aedile had a similar copy in his records.

“After the tour, please,” Erenthril stood up respectfully, still glancing at the deed. Tearing his gaze away, he turned and smiled to the man before collecting his staff, setting the deed down atop of the table beside the contract and quill. “Shall we?” was the question to be asked, and he smiled all the more broadly as he waited to be shown the establishment he was about to purchase.

[Oracle]

His host gathered up the papers -- deed, contract and all -- and gave them to his wife for safekeeping. Gesturing for Eren to follow him, Simon headed out the door. He took a deep breath of the bracing autumn air, then swept his eyes over the place. "Well, this is being used as a dining hall or a rest area for the employees and such. My wife and I have a residence just off the west border. There's two smaller houses at the rear of the property being lived in by the employees as part of their pay."

Striding off, he led Erenthril to the building he had passed upon his entry, which turned out to be a stable of decent size. Not quite all of the stalls were full, but the beasts that were present seemed to carry decent blood, and the place was clean. Nothing growing in the water troughs, hay in the holders, and a decent amount of grain in the holding bins. Outside the barn, several horses grazed in a pasture that abutted the barn, appearing to have several doors in the exterior wall leading to the stalls that were presently empty. A large black mellon mare cropped the crisp autumn grass, unmindful of the plump marmalade cat that was sunning itself upon her back. Both mare and feline lifted casual gazes to Simon and Erenthril as they walked past, then went back to their respective chores.

They weaved through a staggered double row of boxlike pastures, half with residents and half empty, to reach the rear part of the property. The next barn he led Eren to seemed to serve as storage, both in terms of grain and hay. "We have just enough planted to serve our needs, though of course in times of famine we have to buy some supplies from neighboring farms. It would be a good idea to try and expand the hayfields, but because of the losses in the wildfire we're certainly comfortable." From the rear of this barn they could see where the wildfire had ripped through the northwest corner, leaving a jagged area of scorched earth. What grass that was left was crisp and black at the edges where the hungry licks of flame had been beaten back. They could see the skeletons of fence rails where pastures and turnouts had been. The burnt hulk of a barn settled in the middle, the foundation of stone remaining more or less untouched; the wooden interior had been eaten out, as well as the loft and roof. All that was left were the charred ribs of the roof supports, still curving up into the sky. A neat pile of burnt wood and shingles was nearby, showing the work that the owners had done toward restoration. Here and there they could see mounds of freshly turned earth where the dead horses had been buried where they lay.

Clearing his throat a little, Simon pushed his hands into his pockets. "You can see for yourself where we are in construction." He turned to Eren, shrugging a little. "Come on back to the house. Elsie will have gathered up the staff for us." When they got back to the ranch house, there was the same young lad lounging on the front porch, but he jumped to his feet when he saw them coming, disappearing inside. The scene inside was something straight out of a comedy, various people tripping over themselves to present themselves in a line for review. They knew it was this or nothing -- failing to impress Eren might mean being out of a job. Seven people altogether - Elsie, two other women, two young boys, and a pair of older men.

[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

OOC: Cruddy post, sorry. >.<

Erenthril shuffled his hands into the deepest, darkest shadows of his pockets, the cuffs of his emerald robe meshing intricately with the smallest flares of the verdant green tensile cloth. Almond-shaped eyes scanned the room, watching the man hand the deed and papers to his wife before a quick and amiable nod was issued from the Elflord. Leaving his staff at the entryway, he strolled out onto the porch and surveyed the property from the rest house; taking in a good, scrutinizing view of the establishment and the shape it was in. He’d have to be on his guard this time around, make sure he wasn’t about to be ripped of for anything crazy as such.

He had faith in the man though.

He took some time to examine the horses, walking up to one of the more subtler mares who seemed already trained before gingerly running his hand upon her hind leg. Stopping only inches above the hoof, he lifted gently underneath the knee and inspected the insides, examining the quality of the shoes and for any clogs of dirt or the like that would demonstrate how well the staff were taking care of the animals. It would give insight into the ones he should keep, or fire.

Speaking of fire, but in a different sense, a small frown and a ‘tsk’ underneath his breath arose at the sight of the scorched earth, and especially the barn. It would indeed have to be replaced, he only hoped that the minute he was turning around and dropping in