Difference between revisions of "A Fair Proposal - House Strongheart - RPLOG"
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| − | <div></div> | + | <div></div><br> <br>The interior of Strongheart Manor, is, like the House itself, old and sturdy. The stone walls are thick, the windows are wide to accommodate the Sweetwater heat, and looking out, nothing for miles around save for rolling fields of grain and the occasional homestead. The audience chamber has been cleaned and dusted as is reasonably possible, but there's still a certain something or the other about the mortar - perhaps a trace of moss - that implies age, and the sparse furnishings imply that this is a room that doesn't see much use. Lord High Strongheart lounges in a sturdy-looking chair, no doubt dragged in from elsewhere, looking very much like a man who'd be elsewhere but is forced by circumstance and ceremony to be here. |
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| + | From outside, a voice rings out: "Announcing the High Lady Longtail!"<br> <br>Flora seems to be dressed reasonably well today, at least by Flora's standards. Gone is the usual leather outfit, its place taken by an utilitarian, if spotlessly clean white robe. Her usual guards are dismissed with a simple gesture, to wait for her return. Her golem Bastet, on the other hand, is guided along besides her, as she enters the room, tails flicking behind her.<br> <br>Noticing the Lady Flora enter, the guards step aside to permit her egress. The golem they're less sure about, but Lord Strongheart dismisses their concerns with a wave of his hand as he gets to his feet with the aid of a hardwood cane, moving to meet Flora halfway down the chamber. A gesture of goodwill, perhaps? | ||
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| + | "Flora. Let's dispense with the pleasantries; I believe we both are people who have more important things to do than to play social games out of necessity. I don't spend ten months out of each year at my country estate for no reason, after all - what is it you want of me?"<br> <br>Flora nods, seeming rather appreciative of the gesture, her tails twitching behind her. "A table might be useful, yes... Flora has some sketches," the cat notes, as she gestures towards the bag she's carrying, and the bags over Bastet's back. | ||
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| + | "As Mister High Lord Strongheart may've already heard, Flora's been speaking with the other nobles, yes... Mister Lord Blackback is unfortunately busy today," she adds with a small shrug. "Flora's thought up a project, yes, but LongTech isn't big enough to fund it alone, yet," the cat adds after a short pause.<br> <br>Lord Strongheart shrugs, and claps his hands. An attendant comes in, and after a few words, a folding table is brought into the audience chamber and laid out for Flora's perusal. | ||
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| + | "I'm starting to get old, Flora. I'll look at these sketches of yours, but I'll state openly that their meaning will probably largely elude me. Such endeavours are better left to those with the youth or expertise to deal with them. If you have a project that you wish for me to patronise, then tell me what it can do for me. | ||
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| + | "I'll give you an example. Thirty-five years ago, there was another individual who petitioned me for funding - an alchemist. He'd discovered that a simple concoction of animal bones dissolved in oil of vitriol doubled, in some cases even tripled yields. Grains, legumes... not to effective on fruit trees, though. He wanted money to be able to produce the things on a large scale. Obviously, I funded him because this was clearly in my interests to do so. | ||
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| + | "Now, I don't see you as a rival house - our fields differ too widely, and as I said, I have no interest in playing social games. But others will, and will balk at giving money to such. So, tell me. What is it this project has in my interest, that I should part with my money to aid you with it? You must speak to their self-interest and practicality - I've had no end of entrepreneurs in my day walking up and telling me their new invention is going to revolutionise the world, every noble house who takes patronage has."<br> <br>"Not Flora, no. Sweetater. Promise itself, yes. Why wait for the inventors to come, if one can draw them over? The scholars with their new spells... Give them a podium to display them, yes. If they're anything like Flora, they'll love the opportunity, yes," the cat notes, as she splays out a few designs... An architectural sketch of a large, domed building, something that looks like a set of weights, a beam of some sort, and finally, a contract that appears to have already been signed by Flora, Lady Solacious, AND Lord Blackback. Flora's certainly been busy, by the looks of things. | ||
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| + | "Flora is hoping to have Sweetwater host a fair for the whole of promise. Inventors, scholars... Magic, machines, culture. The best Promise has to offer in all fields, a month long." | ||
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| + | "It may not show immediate effects for House Strongheart, but... Flora is quite sure that if more scholars and inventors flock to Sweetwater, it will benefit the country as a whole, yes. And Flora figures it's a good place to meet promising inventors too, yes."<br> <br>"Hm. So you don't. This complicates matters." Lord Strongheart turns away from Flora, and starts pacing back and forth by the windows. "It must be nice to be the only one of your house sometimes. To be answerable only to yourself in the event of either success or failure. You alone decide your direction, and in a sense, have more power than me. No doubt this must be how the progenitor of my own house was, generations ago. | ||
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| + | "It's no secret that you have personal connections with many of the Solacious clan. As scholars, it's quite obvious why the Blackbacks would support a fair promoting their chosen profession. If I were more conscious of the status game, I'd be behooved to donate, but I'm not. The people in the capital - they call me a son of toil, or alternatively, a ton of soil depending on who's speaking. | ||
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| + | "So at the end of the day, Flora, I must have something to show for my investments. I am accountable to not just myself, but also my family, my hirelings, and everyone who works the land I own - as I said, I probably have less power in my own house than you do in yours." | ||
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| + | After another minute's worth of pacing, Lord Strongheart stops and turns back to Flora. "This, I believe, is the point where we negotiate, and I will open with my offer. I understand that much importance is being placed these days on advancements which capture the attention and imaginations of the populace. Golems. Flashy magics. Instant portraits. There's little incentive to look at the humdrum yet essential aspects of our lives, like the beds we sleep in, the water we drink, or the food we eat. If you can guarantee - in writing - that a not insignificant portion of this fair will be devoted to the field of - what's the fancy name they're calling it these days, angricultural science? If you can get inventors and magicians working in these fields, if you can promote their work, then perhaps I could justify the expense. It would, of course, be proportional to the percentable of the fair's total cost which I fund. Is this acceptable?" | ||
Revision as of 10:23, 28 October 2016
Participants
Date
28/10/479
Log
The interior of Strongheart Manor, is, like the House itself, old and sturdy. The stone walls are thick, the windows are wide to accommodate the Sweetwater heat, and looking out, nothing for miles around save for rolling fields of grain and the occasional homestead. The audience chamber has been cleaned and dusted as is reasonably possible, but there's still a certain something or the other about the mortar - perhaps a trace of moss - that implies age, and the sparse furnishings imply that this is a room that doesn't see much use. Lord High Strongheart lounges in a sturdy-looking chair, no doubt dragged in from elsewhere, looking very much like a man who'd be elsewhere but is forced by circumstance and ceremony to be here.
From outside, a voice rings out: "Announcing the High Lady Longtail!"
Flora seems to be dressed reasonably well today, at least by Flora's standards. Gone is the usual leather outfit, its place taken by an utilitarian, if spotlessly clean white robe. Her usual guards are dismissed with a simple gesture, to wait for her return. Her golem Bastet, on the other hand, is guided along besides her, as she enters the room, tails flicking behind her.
Noticing the Lady Flora enter, the guards step aside to permit her egress. The golem they're less sure about, but Lord Strongheart dismisses their concerns with a wave of his hand as he gets to his feet with the aid of a hardwood cane, moving to meet Flora halfway down the chamber. A gesture of goodwill, perhaps?
"Flora. Let's dispense with the pleasantries; I believe we both are people who have more important things to do than to play social games out of necessity. I don't spend ten months out of each year at my country estate for no reason, after all - what is it you want of me?"
Flora nods, seeming rather appreciative of the gesture, her tails twitching behind her. "A table might be useful, yes... Flora has some sketches," the cat notes, as she gestures towards the bag she's carrying, and the bags over Bastet's back.
"As Mister High Lord Strongheart may've already heard, Flora's been speaking with the other nobles, yes... Mister Lord Blackback is unfortunately busy today," she adds with a small shrug. "Flora's thought up a project, yes, but LongTech isn't big enough to fund it alone, yet," the cat adds after a short pause.
Lord Strongheart shrugs, and claps his hands. An attendant comes in, and after a few words, a folding table is brought into the audience chamber and laid out for Flora's perusal.
"I'm starting to get old, Flora. I'll look at these sketches of yours, but I'll state openly that their meaning will probably largely elude me. Such endeavours are better left to those with the youth or expertise to deal with them. If you have a project that you wish for me to patronise, then tell me what it can do for me.
"I'll give you an example. Thirty-five years ago, there was another individual who petitioned me for funding - an alchemist. He'd discovered that a simple concoction of animal bones dissolved in oil of vitriol doubled, in some cases even tripled yields. Grains, legumes... not to effective on fruit trees, though. He wanted money to be able to produce the things on a large scale. Obviously, I funded him because this was clearly in my interests to do so.
"Now, I don't see you as a rival house - our fields differ too widely, and as I said, I have no interest in playing social games. But others will, and will balk at giving money to such. So, tell me. What is it this project has in my interest, that I should part with my money to aid you with it? You must speak to their self-interest and practicality - I've had no end of entrepreneurs in my day walking up and telling me their new invention is going to revolutionise the world, every noble house who takes patronage has."
"Not Flora, no. Sweetater. Promise itself, yes. Why wait for the inventors to come, if one can draw them over? The scholars with their new spells... Give them a podium to display them, yes. If they're anything like Flora, they'll love the opportunity, yes," the cat notes, as she splays out a few designs... An architectural sketch of a large, domed building, something that looks like a set of weights, a beam of some sort, and finally, a contract that appears to have already been signed by Flora, Lady Solacious, AND Lord Blackback. Flora's certainly been busy, by the looks of things.
"Flora is hoping to have Sweetwater host a fair for the whole of promise. Inventors, scholars... Magic, machines, culture. The best Promise has to offer in all fields, a month long."
"It may not show immediate effects for House Strongheart, but... Flora is quite sure that if more scholars and inventors flock to Sweetwater, it will benefit the country as a whole, yes. And Flora figures it's a good place to meet promising inventors too, yes."
"Hm. So you don't. This complicates matters." Lord Strongheart turns away from Flora, and starts pacing back and forth by the windows. "It must be nice to be the only one of your house sometimes. To be answerable only to yourself in the event of either success or failure. You alone decide your direction, and in a sense, have more power than me. No doubt this must be how the progenitor of my own house was, generations ago.
"It's no secret that you have personal connections with many of the Solacious clan. As scholars, it's quite obvious why the Blackbacks would support a fair promoting their chosen profession. If I were more conscious of the status game, I'd be behooved to donate, but I'm not. The people in the capital - they call me a son of toil, or alternatively, a ton of soil depending on who's speaking.
"So at the end of the day, Flora, I must have something to show for my investments. I am accountable to not just myself, but also my family, my hirelings, and everyone who works the land I own - as I said, I probably have less power in my own house than you do in yours."
After another minute's worth of pacing, Lord Strongheart stops and turns back to Flora. "This, I believe, is the point where we negotiate, and I will open with my offer. I understand that much importance is being placed these days on advancements which capture the attention and imaginations of the populace. Golems. Flashy magics. Instant portraits. There's little incentive to look at the humdrum yet essential aspects of our lives, like the beds we sleep in, the water we drink, or the food we eat. If you can guarantee - in writing - that a not insignificant portion of this fair will be devoted to the field of - what's the fancy name they're calling it these days, angricultural science? If you can get inventors and magicians working in these fields, if you can promote their work, then perhaps I could justify the expense. It would, of course, be proportional to the percentable of the fair's total cost which I fund. Is this acceptable?"
