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| Fintan_de_Marin
Posts: 1,511 Status: Duke Karma: +250 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: Good Morning Mi'Ladies | |||||
 A chirping bird woke Fintan from his slumber. The robber sat up in his bed and gave a content sigh. It had been years since he had a truly restful night. He always had something on his mind. Affairs of the State, a war, the safety of the Crown, or even how long he could keep his job as a soldier. But the most recent events seemed to have eased his mind. Fintan began to think of his past. Not fifteen years ago he was a common soldier, living only to fight during the day and drink the night away. His past was haunted by the face of his parents murderers. Westland and Arelia were in a state of cold war. The 'Empire' consisted of little more than forty thousand square miles of grassland. Fertile, but lacking in many resources. The world itself was in a state of darkness, with religious fanatics claiming wars in the name of their gods. Life was hard for even the highest of nobles. Briskly, he pushed those thoughts aside. He had nothing but good fortune to think of today. The Empire has never been stronger, and covers two and a half continents, and spans an ocean. The world has seen a rebirth of knowledge. The Westlands have declared peace and entered a political alliance with Arelia. The last of the murdering dogs was dead at Fintan's own hand. What's more, Fintan now saw a real purpose to live. He was much wiser than he was, and thinks twice before his blade is drawn. Not that he gave up drinking. All of these thoughts, good and ill, ran though the mind of the Count as he dressed. He could not help but smile as he tied his hair back with a silk green ribbon. "If only I'd brought my coat...." he muttered staring in to the looking glass. Without lingering any longer, Rogue stepped out of his room and made his way downstairs. He softly whistled an old marching song, sung by the Kingdom of Arelia long before it had any real power. He hardly touched the stairs on his way down. Much to Wendy's surprise, who was passing by the bottom of the stairs as Fintan came down, Fintan grabbed her hand. He spun her around and waltzed her across the floor to a table. "My heaven's Fintan.... in bit of a good mood are you?" She laughed, stepping over to pick up clay mugs that had been left over night on the table she was taken to. "I've never felt better, Miss Wendy.....I see my playwright friends were up late in to the evening." Fintan looked at the table he had met Christine and Losreal at the night before. The man had a brown wool cap pulled over his eyes, and the she-elf had a quill gripped in her hand with her head propped on the other. "They were there all night. I offered them a room, but they wouldn't have it." Fintan picked up a mug that was in front of Losreal. It smelled of a beer made mostly of hard hops. "They drank Kelin's Brew?" "He did, she drank naught but water." "That's why they did not take a room..." "I'm sorry? I don't understand." "I would like a frothed chocolate, and I shall pay for their room whilst they are here." "The room can be arranged." Wendy's expression saddened. "But I'm afraid I've not got any chocolate. The prices are too high. What with the tax on chocolate, and the price it already is...I haven't been able to afford any for a few weeks now." "What a pity...what are the prices?" "Twenty gold a pound, with a six piece tax per pound. I swear, is shipping really that difficult? Doesn't Arelia have most of the islands where cocoa comes from?" The innkeeper walked around the bar and put two small wooden cups on the smooth surface. "We do, but we can only do so much about the prices. The merchants have a right to make a profit, and if that means raising their pricing due to the trade routes there is little that can be done. " He walked over and leaned on the bar with his left arm, causing a slight clunk. "Well then until prices go down, or I get enough people asking about it...." Wendy pulled a personally kept bottle of whiskey and filled the two cups. "I will not have any on stock, and Heaven help us if anything else goes up in price." She pushed one cup to her company and raised her own. "Then let's drink to low prices, and little taxation." Fintan raised his own cup and clinked it with Wendy's. The young woman laughed and took a sip of the whiskey in sync with Fintan. "Plans for the day, Rogue?" "Shopping. I'm long over due for a new suit, and am coming very close to falling behind in the times." "But you fall behind the times so classically, with a flare I've never seen." She giggled. "A true enough statement. But if I'm to be taken seriously in this country, I shall need to be the height of fashion." "Why bother with fashion...." Christine's voice chimed in as she awoke. " As long as the clothing is practical, and you're comfortable. " "Nobility hardly dresses practically, as for comfort, that consists of four inch heels, tights, wool lace, stupid looking hats" Fintan laughed. "Though it's better than dressing like a Naturip. They're simple all black dressings would kill me. No style in it at all." Wendy shivered at the mention of the fanatics. Naturips existed primarily only in Arelia. They pledged simple lives of purity, simplicity, opposition of the Crown, and pure distaste of Avalonists. Or as was the joke in most sectors of the Royal Court, they were anti-de Marin. Fintan was just the opposite, finding joy in the lavish, swore his life to the Crown, and claimed to be Clerin's hand. "They aren't that bad, what's wrong with simple clothing? If that's what they like then-" Fintan cut her off. "It's not the clothing, that's just boring. I was simply making point, Miss Uisceglan." Fintan drained his cup and set it down. While Wendy was putting it away Fintan was drawing a small pouch of gold out of his larger pouch. Wendy held her hand up, refusing payment. "Then consider it for the nonexistent chocolate." Fintan took her hand and put the money in to it. As he reached the door, he spun on his heel and bowed, making the hat in his right hand flutter in the air. "Good morning, Mi'ladies." "Ass." Wendy smirked as Fintan stepped out, whirling his hat on to his brow. |
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