November option 1

[Jasmine]

November Option 1

Having recently seen “Fiddler on the Roof” live on stage, I have had songs from the production stuck in my head. On reading through the suggestion box, I was reminded of Tevye’s “If I Were a Rich Man”. Thus one of this month’s options is:

If your character was wealthy, what would their life be like?

Remember, that though you can participate in both options, you can only participate in one option with one character. For example (I’ll use Duffy cause he has so many alts that he uses frequently), Duffy can post with the Duffy and the Ruby and any other accounts he wants in this option, BUT he can NOT use them in the other option for the same month. If you post with the same account in both options, the option that was posted in second will not be eligible for rewards.

As always you have until 12:00am on the last day of the month ALASKA TIME to submit your piece.
(for ease of info because I’m feeling nice as I write this I will calculate the time zones as far out as EST.
At midnight in Alaska, EST = 4am, CST = 3am, MST = 2am, PST = 1am)

Also, thanks to Knave for this suggestion!

[SirArtemis]

Artemis sat within the newly built Norlond Forge, arms folded upon the counter and chin resting atop them. He looked out through the open portal where the trademark mug door was being installed – the only part recycled from the original building back in Knife's Edge.

"On three!" Bazzak yelled, as he and his brother Nalin, along with a few hands from the town helped lift the massive steel portal onto the already installed running tracks. The door to the Norlond Forge, unlike most doors, slid open as if it were gliding along the top of a bar. Artemis, however, was not helping; he was lost in thought.

He felt a pair of hands rest upon his shoulders, gently rubbing the tense muscles and loosening them just a bit. "What's wrong?" asked the sweet and melodic voice of Jay, a beautiful dark elf with whom Artemis was beginning to build something of a relationship.

Artemis did not say anything; his eyes just remained glazed as he looked out through the door into the expanse of Salvar and all its wintery glory. The forge faced the mountains to the south and stood near the northern end of the recently founded town of Alpeak; the dwarves planned for the cold wind rolling down the mountains to carry the forge's smoke away from the citizens.

Jay's chin found its way onto Artemis' shoulder and the young man could smell the familiar lavender of her hair. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in but remaining quiet. "You know, you've changed their lives Artie."

Artemis knew what she was talking about, but he could not help but be bothered. He had come across a small fortune on a recent expedition when a few small trinkets ended up being worth quite a bit to some collectors in Knife's Edge, and he had used that money to help finish acquiring everything for the construction of the new town that Bazzak and Nalin had organized – after the fall of Knife's Edge. Granted, some semblance of the large city remained, but the instability was not making it a suitable home for many, and so they had plenty of reason to leave.

Now that all the materials had been bought and the people had traveled away, the town was nearing completion. It stood southeast of where the major city now stood and not more than a score of days travel in case anything was needed, including trade. The dwarven brothers had scouted out a mountainous region that had been neglected due to difficult terrain and found a quarry of fine stone, including marble, and had a hunch that a few untapped deposits lay beneath the surface as well – mithril they expected.

Everything was going wonderfully, and yet something bothered Artemis.

"They treat me differently now."

"Of course they do," Jay said as she nuzzled into his neck. "You gave them a new home. They're grateful."

"It seems artificial. It's like they feel they owe me something and treat me differently because of it. I want them to like me for who I am, not for what the money did for them, or my luck, or whatever."

"Artie," Jay said with a touch of concern in her voice. She lifted herself from Artemis and hopped over the counter, nimbly and quietly, getting between him and the doorway. She rested her head on her hands and set her elbows upon the counter, legs out in a 'v' shape as she looked at the young man. Her silver-violet hair fell perfectly down the side of her face, her fine lavender complexion matching the smell of her hair and the bright blue eyes adding that final touch of contrast. "You can't fault them for being grateful or recognizing what you've done for them. I'm sure they'd like you if they got to know you too, but it's a bit hard for you to know all of them already. The town ended up many times the size of what Bazzak and Nalin originally intended, and it only became possible because of you. You gave these people a new home and a second chance at life!"

Artemis did not say anything, he just looked up into her eyes and then let them fall again, looking through her and out into the open expanse where adventure surely awaited him and so did anonymity. After being a vagabond for the last few years, he had gotten used to being nobody, and somehow this newfound fame was uncomfortable – and all for the sake of some money that he found by chance.

"Give it time, Artie. You'll get to know the people in time. Until then, let them be excited and happy for what they have in their futures and know that you made a difference."

'Amazing how much of a difference money makes,' Artemis thought, but not for the sake of their lives, more so for the sake of his own.

[Duffy]

Duffy had always wondered what life would be like if he did not have to worry about money. After much deliberation, gin and rummy, he had come to the conclusion that his life would be exactly the same. Money, according to the gods that had created him, was not something that went hand in hand with the life of a playwright; at least not for a successful playwright. Ruby had done enough damage with her own funds and empire to drive the point home, people born to entertain and bring joy to others always needed a crutch, a weakness, a casing point to strive harder.

For the Tantalum Troupe, this crutch was providing for the multitude that was swaddled by the cramped walls of the Prima Vista. In recent months, that multitude had doubled, with a swarm of new orphans, wraith’s and strays joining the hungry ranks like a new season’s swell of hatchlings clucking for their strained mother. Though the bard tried to keep them all content with paltry offerings from the playhouse’s kitchen, no matter how inventive Ruby and Lillith were with the food they had in their larders, something was amiss.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do about it,” he said glumly, rolling a soiled potato back and forth over the surface of the kitchen table between cupped palms and tired limbs. An afternoon playing with the children in the hot summer lull had drained any energy that had once remained in the bard’s battered, bruised and broken body.

Lillith wrinkled her lips through a cycle of expressions, beginning with contemplation and ending with her usual non-chalant stare. It was a look that Duffy knew well, and one that Ruby hated to see on her sister’s pretty face.

“We’ve plenty of rice, potatoes and porridge oats, thanks to the winter harvest. We can keep ourselves alive, by all means, but to keep everyone happy? We’re going to need to find spices, treats, things children should enjoy and partake in whilst the economy of this city is good enough to provide it.” Ruby nodded in agreement, finally pulling herself away from the sink, wringing her hands dry on the last clean corner of what appeared to be the last unworn tea towel.

“The spice I can help with, or rather, the spice Leopold can help with. We may have to wait until next week when his schooner fleet returns from Fallien.” Her matter-of-fact diligent tone told Duffy that this promise would cost Ruby dearly. Knowing Leopold, he would delight in the debt his wife would owe him, and take interest from her in a way Duffy could only shudder at the thought of. “What do you suggest about treating the children?” She set the tea towel down, and pulled out the chair opposite Duffy’s.

“A redden pie or a turnover or two wouldn’t go amiss, it’s what kept us smiling for the last…” he mock counted on fingers and thumbs, before he fumbled to catch the potato before it fell with an almighty bang to the stone paved floor, “five hundred or so years!”

Lillith chuckled. The redden pie was a Scara Brae speciality; one given to bright eyed children and loving family at grand dinners for millennia. In recent years the orchards to the north of the city walls had been pillaged by the rampaging Innari, and the delicacy had become scarcer with each cycle of the moon. People had started whispering of foul tricks played by street vendors, who had started fobbing off Corone Cox’s as Redden Royals. This heinous culinary act had swiftly become a criminal offense, much to the bemusement of the black market in apples.

“We have been eating them for a long time. Perhaps we could use some of the artefacts and books we no longer have a use for to trade for some?” She raised an eyebrow, breaking her glum expression just enough to show she cared.

Duffy shrugged, finally setting the potato to rest between himself and Ruby, who only feigned an interest in the idea. She seemed more fixated on the potato than the emotional wellbeing of the troupe’s menagerie of wayward souls. Duffy tried to shed the cruel insults he threw about his skull. Ruby lived in two worlds, and in the other, far from the Prima Vista’s quirky décor, she could eat redden pie every day of the week if she so desired. His doubts didn’t mean that she did, but the bard couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the noblewoman’s marriage.

“We just have to crack on with the new script and see if the performances of Lysander’s Flock next week for the Royale Regatta bring in enough coin to splash out on a few lavish extras.” The business acumen Ruby had picked up from her merchant partner came into force, and even though Duffy took to picking out the detail on the plates hanging on the wall by the door and trying not to seem impressed, he knew she was right.

A troupe of performers could only live beyond their means if they did what they were supposed to do – perform. Luckily for the Tantalum, though not flourishing in the economic hardships of civil war-torn Corone, they were respected and talented enough to earn enough coin from their art to hold just enough hope in their hearts that one day, they would return to the times when they danced in finery and drank gin as if it were water.

“I guess we should be thankful that although we’re poor at the moment, we are wealthy beyond measure in other ways.” Lillith finally perked up, pulling herself from her late evening depression with a long sigh and a stretch that returned several misplaced vertebrate back. The click made Ruby twitch, much to the Akashiman lady’s pleasure. “Did you ever dream we’d have such good company in these four walls again?” She seemed genuinely enthusiastic that the ranks of the troupe had returned to their glory days.

Duffy sighed, and Ruby rolled her head, as if she were still deciding on nodding or shaking.

“What would life be like if we didn’t have such an abundant wealth of talent to bring art and joy and history to life on the cobbles and corners of this accursed city?” Her Akashiman accent slipped away momentarily, replaced with a well pronounced mockery of the Scara Brae twang. Even Duffy had to place several syllables into her sentence before he understood what she said.

“You’re right, Lillith, you’re right…” he leant forwards and dropped his chin into his folded arms. His feet dangled from the stool and kicked against the table leg. With the smell of potato dirt lingering in his nostrils, and a flurry of heavy footsteps, which could only have been children suddenly running over the floor above their heads, the great bard couldn’t help but feel radically wealthy after all. He dared not consider what life would be like without a war to fight, without people to share the good times with, and without a full ensemble to put some energy and pizzazz into the matinee performances of Uncle Betty’s Hot Pot Bonanza.

[Jasmine]

That's it for this month. I'll figure out who's first within a week guys. Thanks for participating!

[Jasmine]

Sorry for the long delay on this. Between RL stuff with my Gramma and lack of internet it's been interesting. At any rate...

Artie gets first place, Duffy gets second. Congrats.

Sir Artemis gets 600 EXP and 200 GP
Duffy Bracken gets 800 EXP and 175 GP