Levity, Logistics, and Grace (Closed) [Archive]

Ruby

05-09-12, 02:57 PM

Prologue - House Winchester - The City of Scara Brae
Twenty-Four Hours Ago

Ruby Winchester was usually a calm and composed woman. For decades, some of the world’s most virile of men had tested her patience, her providence, and her power. In Fallien, she had swept aside leagues of Bedouin usurpers with a cantor’s guile. In Salvar, she had melted the snow with a warming aria. In Raiaera, she had slain the greatest of beasts with a rolling rhythmic chant. However, she knew no songs that could defeat her greatest enemy. He was always one-step ahead of her.

“Leopold…,” she said softly, with a hint of anger, reservation, and restraint in her voice. “What did you just say?” She raised an eyebrow, as if words were not enough to portray her contempt for his suggestion. It did not take him long to clock on to his wife’s discomfort.

“Forgive me, my dear.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I was just asking if you’d heard of anyone that might be able to help with this particular,” he jostled air, “conundrum.” The word sounded odd at ease with the small, poky, and dusty chamber.

“I don’t think you quite grasp what you just asked me, dear.” Her dear was considerably more sarcastic and poisonous. She began to tap her heel against the chipped floorboards and pulled threads off the ochre carpet. Her purple, crème, and floral attire were the only clean, attractive, and eye catching features of the room.

“Don’t I?” he mumbled. He did not look up from his dossier.

“What makes you think I know someone capable of,” she minced her words deliberately, purely to make Leopold squirm, “moving the corrupt detritus of your business dealings?” Her eyebrow rose for the thirtieth time during their meeting.

“You get around,” he sniped, immune to her wiles.

She chuckled, unable to contain her stern façade anymore. “You think I’ll be able to help you with the workings of the gutter?” She leant back into her chair, and began to caress the ornate arms of her wingback throne. “As it happens, I do in fact know of a man that might be,” she nodded back and forth to show her hesitation, though Leopold, shrewd as he was, knew she was feeling nothing of the sort, “worthy of your needs.”

“I would not ask if I wasn’t desperate,” he said, with an unusual show of humility. “The Winchester Rose Trading Company is,” he pursed his lips. He continued to talk as he cut, clipped, and prepared a large Berevar forged cigar. After their business concluded, he would need it for his celebratory drink and relaxation period. He was quite fond of those, at least in recent months of his empire’s expansion.

“Go on…,” she pressed. She clenched her fists over the ends of the arms until her knuckles whitened.

“Well, it’s very much relying on you.” He tried to sound sincere, but sincerity was a difficult emotion to convey when your wife looked like she could strike you sterile in a heartbeat.

“If you’re relying on me Leopold you must be hiding something.” She tried to work out what his motives could be.

“What is there to say?” Leopold shrugged.

He looked up at the crystal chandelier and picked out the untarnished diamonds left hanging in the chipped and once priceless gift from the Corone high court. He had not been to the Radasanth office in quite some time, and had forgotten how much it had fallen into disrepair. He made a mental note to redirect some of the incoming gold from his operations in Salvar. He might even let Ruby pick out fabric. Anything to keep her happy for just a little longer was worth the expense.

“Do you want me to arrange a meeting?” she offered. She relinquished her grip on her chair. Her knuckles reddened as the blood flowed back into her fingertips. “He is in Concordia, in the town of Underwood.”

“The name rings a bell,” he mused. He looked up from the dossier, set the cigar onto the desk, and leant back in his chair. His quizzical expression tickled Ruby.

With a belittling smile, she pointed at the large, ink stained, and smoke tarnished map on the eastern wall. “It would only take a day or so to travel there, find him, and return.” Her hand flopped to her lap with non-chalant grace.

“What is this man’s name?” Leopold began to re-arrange the piles of paper, ink, and quills on the table. His fake disinterest only served to rile Ruby’s wits. In truth, he was listening with all ears.

“Regis Daili,” she said flatly.

“Sounds dry,” he added.

Ruby rolled her eyes. Whilst the man was the driest man she had ever met, he was undeniably the most intellectual, astute, and organised. If anyone could help Leopold with his logistical ineptitude, it would be he. The librarian was rather keen to flatter Ruby, so she had no doubt she would able to convince him to help.

“Try and sound grateful, husband of mine,” she pushed herself up from her chair, regally, florally, and with much levity. “I do not go out into the common lands for less than a bottle of Ambrosia.” She was already half turned to the door before Leopold looked up from his desk. Over a pile of paper, parchment, and meticulously inscribed documents, Leopold glared. “Remember that,” was her parting statement.

Leopold watched her slip out of the door. In her absence, he fell in for staring into a cavernous abyss before it dawned on him. His wife was starting to learn the ins and outs of his business empire more intricately than he did. He had never felt weaker. Although his pride faltered and diminished, at the same time, he had never felt more in love.

“Well played, Mrs Winchester,” he commended. “Well played indeed.” He set the cigar between his lips and sighed.

The sound of her heels echoed through the chamber before silence reigned, and day turned into night. There was much to do before he could dig himself out of his hole. He dropped his gaze back to his accounts, and tried to work out what Regis Daili could bring to the table.

The Keeper

08-14-12, 05:14 PM

Day One
Underwood Library

Regis tipped the pot of tea, gently holding the lid in place while pouring himself a fresh cup of rose tea. It was still early in the morning and it was comfortably chilly outside, so the librarian had left the door ajar to let the breeze in. The endless green surrounding his library held onto the morning dew, and the steam rising from his cup of golden brew gave him a heartwarming feeling that put a smile on his face.

He set the pot down upon a small and flat saucer, tracing the tip of his finger along the blue floral patterns that ran across the white porcelain. Occasionally there would be a streak of gold that traced much of the tea set, the gilding accentuating the beautiful craftsmanship. The set had been a gift that he cherished very much - from an old friend - and every day he was sure to take meticulous care when taking his tea.

He lifted the cup of perfectly brewed tea just beneath his nose to admire the scent, letting the steam trickle up into his senses as he closed his eyes.

'No better way to start a chilly day than with a cup of tea long before midday.'

He smiled at his little rhyme, taking a tiny sip. As he did, he heard a familiar clack of heels upon the steps in front of the library, and so he set the teacup and saucer back down. While looking up expectantly, he saw the an incredibly beautiful woman stride through the open door. Clacking her way on knee-high boots with a four inch heel was a woman wearing a strapless violet dress that had some "gilding" of its own - the gold trim accentuating the rich and regal color of her dress. She had long waves of gray hair swinging about her shoulders and a belt that caught Regis' attention.

As she stepped inside, being the gentleman that he was, Regis stood up and straightened out his white collared shirt and black overcoat. "Good morning madam, how may I be of service?" he asked with a light bow. His mind was racing; there was something familiar about this woman - many things even, though they were a bit scrambled. His intuition said that he knew this woman, though he had never seen her before in his life. Even more bizarre was the black raven that sat perched peacefully upon her shoulder attentively.

"Regis Daili?" she asked. She had a beautiful voice, as though even her speech carried a melody along with it.

"That is my name, yes. What can I do for you?"

"I hear you are a man of immense knowledge."

Regis smiled at the compliment. "My lady, I am simply a keeper of knowledge," he said with a gesture of the arms. "You have as much access to any and all of it as I do."

She smiled at him in return, and Regis couldn't help but feel another pang of recognition as the edge of her lip curled in a seductively charming fashion at his comment. "I mean you in particular," she said with a step forward, her heels resounding through the endless halls of tomes. "I need a brilliant man to help with a particular... dilemma I have, and I've heard you're rather perceptive."

"My lady, I am but a humble librarian. I know not where you might have heard such rumors, but they do flatter me - perhaps they even overestimate me." He bowed again and paused before continuing. "However, I do have an idea of who might have said such things."

"Oh?" she said with a raised brow, and again Regis felt a pang. "And who might that be?"

"Well," Regis began, energized by the opportunity to use some of his deductive skills. "For one, that belt you wear is rather similar to a necklace I had once seen a woman wear when I stumbled across her path at a local cafe. That could of course be coincidence, but it's a rather unique piece of jewelry. Oddly enough," he said as he took his own step closer to her, his steps muffled by the comfortable loafers of a working man, "you also smell just like her. A bit bizarre, but you don't often come across a mix of lavender and gin coming from a woman of your demeanor."

As he spoke, she smiled again, staring at his approach. "And that smile of yours," he continued, "has an interesting trait that I don't find very often in women these days. The way the end of your lip curls up when you're intrigued is a trademark of this particular woman." His held his hands behind his back as he approached and stood just a few feet away from her. "It is rather peculiar though, as this woman had crimson hair and her ears weren't pointed as yours, which makes it hard to imagine that you're one in the same. But from what I know of this woman, I also know that she holds more secrets than my entire library, so perhaps this is just another one of her tricks - some sort of shapeshifting."

As he spoke the word, he saw her bring her arms up to her torso, crossing them just under her ample bosom. "And that, my lady, is a gestural slip that represents a defensive posture, so you lead me to believe that I'm onto something here. So let me wager that you, though you appear to be from Raiaera by your race and your garb, are nothing more but another form of a woman I had once met who went by the name of Ruby Winchester."

"And if that is the case, it's a pleasure to see you again. I'm glad you've decided to visit," he said with a bow, showing that he meant no disrespect by his analysis. As he did, he saw both a pout of frustration and a roll of the eyes from the woman, who was constantly intrigued and flustered by this man's bizarrely accurate observational talents.

Yet before she could even say a word, the black raven who had sat idly on her shoulder spoke up unexpectedly. "Perhaps you were right; this man might just be what we need to accomplish this task."

Regis, though surprised by this event, didn't jump at all. He simply tilted his brow forward and squinted his eyes slightly, staring at the bird. "Well, that's peculiar," was all the man could muster.

Ruby

08-23-12, 08:05 AM

Ruby could not help but smile affectionately at the librarian. Whilst she expected Regis to work out her identity in time, she had not expected him to do it so quickly. With her trust well placed, she set her hands on her hips above her dress’s modest trail, and cocked her head.

“Well, then I daresay my work here is done,” she chirped. Regis blinked.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady,” he said.

“The pleasure is mine Mr Daili. Although the boat road here was not enjoyable,” she made a show of rubbing her behind and soothing her stomach with circular pats and motions. “I am afraid times have been difficult in Raiaera, and for this reason and that, I,” she waved down the length of her body, “have had to undergo some changes.” She did not have intentions to explain in further detail. Her reincarnation would remain her own cross to bear.

The bird ruffled its feathers awkwardly, as if it were somehow to blame. Its eyes glinted with intellect, and its feet clawed at its perch with nervous tension.

“Quite,” said Regis. Despite the curiosity the scenario had inspired in his inquisitive heart, he was very adept at not showing it. “Well,” he gestured to the two seats opposite, “do please be my guest and join me once again for a light infusion.” He set his cup onto the table, pushed his book to one side, and then began to stir the dregs in the pot.

“Is there enough left Mr Daili? I do not want to deprive you.”

“There is plenty, I wager, though no sponge,” he bemoaned. He clanked the teaspoon against the rim of the teapot.

By chance, there was just enough tea for two, though it had been brewing quite some time. Ruby was glad, but sad to see there was no cake to accompany it. She slipped forwards, sat regally on the chair, and then realised she was a good twenty feet away. She rolled her eyes, too eager to please, and made a noisy show of sliding the chair across the well-trodden floor to the table.

“Thank you Mr Daili. It smells floral.” She set the chair down with a thud, sat on it, then stared at the pot. “What leaf is it, might I ask?” she said meekly. In some circles of the world, it was highly rude to ask such questions of your host. A homely brew was often a passed down recipe from generation to generation, a closely guarded secret that some family members would kill to protect.

“It’s only Lapsang Soong,” he said, matter of fact. It was a simple herbal blend from the northern region of Akashima. Ruby had enjoyed it many a time in Uncle Sei’s Teahouse in the Kama-steppes.

“That is a splendid choice sir!” she whelped with joy.

“Though I daresay,” he lifted the lid of the pot and stirred it with an elongated silver spoon, which once might have shone in the sun, “I’ve added my own special ingredient to the blend.” He chimed the implement against the rim a second time as he pulled it out, set the lid down, and poured her a cup with the grace of kings.

“I won’t pry further,” she smiled. “It’s a well-known blend I have enjoyed many a time.” She half wanted to ask if he somehow knew she liked it above all others, but even she doubted his intellect stretched to omniscience. “Thank you very much,” she said dutifully, as she took the offered cup and saucer.

“I was not, as I’m sure you’d gathered, expecting guests.” He waved about the library, which was even more ramshackle and out of shape than the last time Ruby had visited, “times have been difficult with war raging to the north. I have,” he bit his lip, “succumbed to more involved investigations of late.” Ruby took this rightly to mean he had withdrawn from his usual curious endeavours to find sanctuary in the dusty pages and intricately scribed illustrations. Given what she had seen in the elven heartlands, she half longed she could join him.

“It’s grand enough,” she said happily, inspecting the floral design of his china. “If I had come expecting you to be something you’re not,” she began, hoping it came across in the right manner, “then I would have undertaken a wasted journey.” She set the cup down. “I am here, after all, for the man and the brain that inspires him, not his taste in cutlery and crockery.”

Regis chuckled. “Yes, well, with pleasantries attended to, and no waiter to distract us this time, do enlighten me as to the specifications of your,” he nodded to the opened envelop that was on the mantelpiece above a long dead hearth, “business matter.” He thought for a moment more, “and this Raven,” he said, staring inquisitively at the black lacquered feathers, “does he say more than the obvious?”

“I think I am done with the icebreaker, Leopold,” she said smoothly. She crossed one leg over the other, and began to drink her tea enthusiastically. She could taste vanilla and cinnamon overtones mingling with the peaty taste of the leaf. “Come out, come out, oh husband of mine.”

On cue, the Raven vanished. A flurry of feathers fell idly to the floor of the library, lingered for a second, then vanished in puffs of wispy black smoke. There was a strange sense of inertia in the room for a second, and then the door through which Ruby had entered the Underwood library swung open. Regis pricked his ears, poised his cup half between saucer and lip, and examined the large man as he entered.

Ruby

08-23-12, 08:06 AM

“Mr Daili, meet Mr Winchester, my husband, and in this matter we have engaged you in, your employer of sorts.” She took back her words, “not employer, more, your beneficiary.” Regis did not stand, but from the look of complacency on Leopold’s face, he did not expect him to.

“Forgive my unusual methodology, Mr Daili. I am a highly troubled man by sword and gun, and sometimes secrecy and security is required to ensure our operation is not jeopardised.” He slid the second chair over to his wife’s right hand side, and sat with a heavy thud. The mahogany supports, elegantly inscribed with titans and worms creaked and groaned beneath his less than lithe bulk. The notion of being a benefactor aside, Regis had one immediate question on his lips.

“You can both shape shift?” his voice rose in pitch.

Leopold chuckled. “No good sir. The Raven is,” he wrinkled his lips, taking the time to think as he produced a small hip flask from the innards of his gold-threaded waistcoat and woollen breeches. “Well, he is an extension of me.” This was as much of a truth as he could spin to avoid having long and lengthy discussion about Thayne, Old Gods, and Leopold Winchester.

“Not as pretty, of course,” Ruby slipped in between his heavy-handed expositions. She chuckled lightly, and then fell silent.

“He is useful to scout ahead and see the world through a new perspective.” He uncorked the flask, drank from it, and smacked his lips. He looked at it, and then Regis, and offered it at arm’s length.

“No thank you,” he said flatly, as if the idea of spoiling his tea with bourbon were abhorrent.

“I will, though,” Ruby clucked. She waited for Leopold to pour her a shot before she continued on his behalf. If Regis had been paying attention, he would have noticed a flicker of shadows form to Leopold’s right and a shot glass appear from nothing.

“During the war in Raiaera, many thousands of people were uprooted from their homes and scattered to the winds. In the course of time, many ended up as political refugees and were shipped to Corone on the wings of an old and now highly strained treatise.” She tried to explain it in the simplest and briefest terms possible. "With the recent civil war in Corone between the Phoenix Ascendant and the Ixian Knights, and the resurgence of conflict between The Rangers and the Empire, the refugees have become vulnerable.”

“By vulnerable my wife means enslaved. The elves living in Radasanth and the Port town of Jadet have become cheap sources of labour in the rebuilding effort, and the Scara Brae regent has declared the isle’s use of the misfortunate illegal,” continued Leopold. His gruff expression added to the seriousness of the information they were imparting. When he finished his seemingly well-rehearsed line, he returned to inspecting the immensely interesting and infinitely dense walls of books the library housed. He longed very much to explore, but perhaps another time.

“An illegal declaration like that is both an opportunity for altruism, and for business,” Ruby continued.

“I will not help you profit from their misfortune, Mrs Winchester. If you speak so highly of me, surely you would understand, if not know that already?” The earlier eagerness to see an old friend faded.

Ruby could only nod sympathetically. “Under normal circumstances, yes, I would more than understand. Leopold operates a trading company out of the docks of Scara Brae, true enough. He runs caravans shipping goods between Salvar and Berevar, also true. However, most of his operations move food, resources, and building supplies to the devastated areas of those regions following years of war and conflict. He is profiting considerably less than other rival companies because his efforts are for the people, not for his pocket,” Leopold raised a hand to interject.

“Pockets that are deep enough and full enough to not have to work ever again,” he smiled earnestly “but I do this because I have to. I have the means to help the refugees find safe passage to Scara Brae under the Asylum Laws Queen Valeena has drafted. I have the means to ship enough goods to construct a new town entirely for the refugees in the western heart of the island.”

“Forgive my impertinence, Mr Winchester,” Regis began, shrewdly analysing the situation with all the integrity of a true scholar, “but surely, if one such as you has such access to the world's knowledge of mercantile pursuits you should have no problems.”

Ruby nodded. “I wish that were true. We need help, very badly.” She sighed.

Regis nodded, “I gathered that. What I am unclear on, however, is why do you need me to aid you?”

Ruby

08-23-12, 08:07 AM

Leopold’s contempt for having to go outside the company for aid took a while to fade. When Ruby finally talked him round to requesting the librarian’s assistance, it had been on the assumption Ruby would do all the bartering. When he turned to his wife for assistance on the matter, and saw her almost malefic grin shine from behind her grey locks, he realised she was going to do no such thing.

“Whilst my wife is a woman of numbers, and I a man of logistics, this operation requires an approach we have not taken before. We cannot work on our own this time and hope to succeed.” Leopold tucked his hip flask away, adjusted himself noisily on the chair, and waited to see if there were further questions. When the silence grew to be difficult, he assumed there was none. “In order for us to be successful in our endeavour we must remain anonymous.”

“Now I am confused,” Regis said, with the sort of honest inflection in his tone of voice that humbled lesser men. “You wish to find acclaim in your exploits, your charity, and your altruism…but you’d have it all erased?” he raised an eyebrow along with his cup. His semi-balding forehead was gleaming with small beads of sweat which began to form through temperature rising and curiosity peaking. “You’ll forgive my cynicism.”

“You have to understand; Mr Daili, this operation spans four countries, many governments, and impedes many laws. If the Winchester Rose Trading Company were implicated in any part of it, we would not only be ruined, but start a political backlash against the Guilds-man Circle of Scara Brae,” Ruby intervened.

“This in turn would cause friction between the noble households, the Monarchy, and the Empire.” Regis’ expression told the couple that he fully understood the implication. Since their last meeting, it seemed the librarian had maintained his pursuit and interest in the on-going civil war and the implications it had for his much treasured ‘outside world.'

“No doubt causing more war and conflict and strife than you hoped to contain in rehousing these refugees to begin with.” Regis nodded with altruistic appreciation. “I still do not understand how I could help.”

“You are an accountant as well, aren’t you?” Ruby cocked her head to one side, rose from her seat, and unfolded a small parchment from within the folds of dress. Its dull fabric, compared to her previous appearance, told of a more difficult climate and a society bent on talent, not beauty.

“Of a sort, yes,” he said with a murmur. He looked at the paper.

“We received this from one of our researchers; it was he who reminded me of your particular brand of genius.” Regis took it and read the contents.

It was an old leger from the teahouse where they had first crossed paths in the spring. It was faded in places, but the main intention still read well in spidery script. He had taken to accountancy in between bouts of study to help acquire a particularly rare text. He had found it distracting, but easy enough work, and it appeared his ability to balance monetary, as well as literary books had scuppered his plans to continue living in his sanctuary of words.

“I did this for a while, but it was hardly an intellectual exercise,” he set it on the table to the side, and pleaded with a longing look. “I’m sure you’d find a better suited accountant in the city, if only you’d care to look.”

“Please understand, we’ve looked high and low for someone clever enough, shrewd enough, and equipped enough.” She spread her arms wide, to encompass the library’s vast contents in her point, “To aid us. Leopold quite literally turned Knife’s Edge upside down, and searched every nook, crook, and cranny of Irrakam for somebody suitable. Everywhere, there was nothing, nobody, no luck.”

“We had no luck until Ruby told me about the small town of Underwood.”

“We had no luck until I told him about you,” she added.

“You will be rewarded beyond reproach, dreams, and destiny,” Leopold said flatly. There was not an ounce of deception in his statement, though there were plenty of liquor fumes and peppermint boiled sweets.

“What do you say?” The spell singer’s eyes sparkled along with the words. She half wanted to sing her point, and bring the library to life in a dancing show number. She doubted it would give her any more advantage than if she just put it straight to him.

The Keeper

08-23-12, 01:14 PM

Regis set his tea down and leaned back in his seat, letting his hands fold upon his lap. His eyes fell to the surface of his mahogany table and for a moment, it appeared as though he were somewhere else entirely. Seconds passed, ticking away and feeling like minutes to the pair across from the librarian. When he finally left his contemplations, he pulled out a small handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his forehead dry. With that, he leaned forward and rested his elbows upon his desk and spoke very seriously to the duo.

"There are a few things I would like to be clear about regarding this endeavor of yours. The first is that you should understand that I will do nothing that jeopardizes the well-being and integrity of this fine library, so I will not step outside of the rules of the land. I understand that at times, the angle with which you approach the rules helps accomplish certain tasks, and if I feel the goal is virtuous enough, I will do my best to find a way.

"The second is that I will have to work from within the library. Any resource I may need I will find here, and the comfort of my environment will make work easier. Of course, it is also my duty as the Keeper of the library to maintain order, so I will have to tidy up soon as well as remain available to any seeking the knowledge within these walls. I am too old and inexperienced to travel anywhere beyond the borders of Underwood.

"The third is that I will not be kept in the dark. The only way for me to remain at optimal effectiveness is that I have all the information I need to do the best job that I can. This is not a joke. You two love your secrets, I can see that quite clearly, from your raven description to my experiences with you, Mrs. Winchester. But if you allow your secretive nature to intervene in the saving of these lives, then I will feel your interests may not be in the right place and may decide that it is in my best interest to step out of your business endeavor.

"As for reward, I do not require one. The lives of these people and making a positive impact is sufficient for a man like me. I have never been one of material wealth - my wealth comes from knowledge. However... I do have one request..."

For the first time since the pair had arrived within the library's walls, Regis seemed to blush, almost embarrassed of his coming request. "Mrs. Winchester, after everything is said and done, I would ask that you use your... talents... to allow me another trip into one of my novels. I have spent much time rereading my favorites and set one aside in particular in case of your return."

He could see Ruby's smile at the request. It was as though she were both flattered and amused - the wise old man still had his youthful indulgences, and it made her happy to know that even as his hair thinned and lost its color, his imagination and passion sparkled. It was something that gave her hope - they would need that imagination to succeed at their task. After all, if this were easy, they wouldn't have needed his help in the first place.

"Of course, Regis. I'd be more than happy to." The sincerity in her smile and soft features, though different from how Regis remembered, reminded him of the soft nature buried within the woman, behind the guarded and endless secrets. Somewhere within was a good heart, and no amount of shapeshifting could change that about her.

"Then we are agreed!" Leopold blurted, pulling out his flask again and taking a swig of his bourbon, as though already celebrating. However, Ruby and Regis exchanged looks, understanding that it was far too soon to be celebrate anything; there was much work to be done.

Ruby

08-25-12, 05:53 PM

Later That Evening
Salvar Division of the Winchester Rose Trading Company

Ruby reflected on the conversation between Regis and Leopold for many hours that night. Each exchange had been a portent of something wondrous, and yet, it had been an omen of something dark and dangerous at the same time.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself repeatedly.

What they were planning amongst gods and monsters was going, or so the Winchesters hoped, to change the political landscape of not just one, but three islands. It was no small feat, by any stretch of the imagination. She twiddled her handkerchief between forefinger and thumb in the light of a dying fire, sighing between thoughts, and sipping a lacklustre Shiraz between lulls of the head’s concentration.

A crackle and a roar of embers reigniting accompanied Leopold’s return an hour later. He waded into the humid drawing room, swaddled in a heavy overcoat of wool and snow, and approached the second of the three wing back chairs that surrounded the hearth. He sat opposite his wife in silence, without taking off his coat, and without shedding the layer of permafrost, which he had accrued in his journey north to the chalet.

“Well,” he said, breaking the metaphorical ice with a well-timed strike of his oratory pickaxe. “That was a whirlwind trip and a half,” he said. It was a simple, to the point statement to reignite conversation between them. He had left three hours ago on an errand he had not informed his wife the extent of, and hoped to side step any confrontation she was doubtless to throw his way.

“Worth it,” she picked up her glass again, a gold leaf-emblazoned champagne flute from the couple’s honeymoon, “by all means.” She drank from it greedily. There were no longer any silent observations to make, and the need for tact in the shadows was gone. Her husband had seen her in every possible state to do away with etiquette when it was just them two in a solitary space. “Though I wish you’d trusted me with the recommendation much sooner,” she shot him a glance in the umbra shadows.

“Ruby…,” he erred.

“We could have saved ourselves much commotion on the border crossing trying to explain who exactly it was we were leaving a war zone for.” Leopold’s inability to be plain and clear sometimes got them into predicaments Ruby would rather not have to deal with.

“We will not have to go through that again, I assure you,” he retrieved his almost empty hip flask from within the folds of his clothing, and took one last oaken, amber, and cinnamon scented draft of the bourbon he kept almost permanently by his aorta.

Ruby was not convinced. She watched him drink, and drank from her own glass.

It warmed his cavernous chest and did away with the last dredging cold of the dark night. He would not have to go out again into the wilderness until they had to meet with Regis again in three days’ time. By then, the library, or so he had promised, would be ready to receive the vast amount of paperwork and artefacts particular to the task.

“The shipment is enroute to Underwood as of a few hours ago, though I daresay we’ll be lucky for it to arrive immaculately on time.” He set the flask onto the small circular table each chair had to hand. “That is, unless Arden keeps his promise.”

“He will,” Ruby snapped eager to do away with any lengthy diversion into the promises of old friends. “He met with Lillith before they went north to the Castle. He has ensured my sister the crossing into Radasanth and south to the woods will not be hindered by bureaucracy or the Empire’s new laws.” By which Ruby knew the assassin to mean ‘or heads will indeed roll.' She did not question Arden’s approach, so long as he did not speak of it any more detail than was absolutely and necessarily required.

“So,” Ruby puckered her lips, and lifted herself into a more upright and lady-like position in her chair, “what do you truly think of Regis Daili?” From her tone, Leopold knew it was a weighted question. He sighed.

“He seems perfect for the task, but his self-imposed exile in the name of scrupulous academia may, in the future, come back to haunt us.” Leopold knew to be concise with Ruby when she drank alcohol. This was especially true when the alcohol in question was strong red wine. There was levity in her soul, but there was no grace in her bones when grapes were involved.

“I doubt it; the man is bent on experiencing the exegesis he was exposed to the last time I sang for him.”

“Yes, do tell me more about that won’t you my dear?” The accusatory and sarcastic tone in Leopold’s question threw Ruby a bone she was adamant to pick clean.

“Oh, yes, Leopold dear, I want Regis. I want to ruin him, ravage him, and do away with five centuries of marriage for him!” She mock sounded an orgasm, and left the echo bouncing around the drawing room for a few moments before she continued on a more serious note. “On a more serious note, he asked me to sing him into a book he presented me with in exchange for access to a particular tome in the library.” The contents of that tome had directed Ruby directly to the location of a truly tremendous book. That book had ended an Empire.

“You sang him an illusion?” Leopold raised an eyebrow in question. He scratched his fuzzy beard nervously. He did not like the sound of magic wielded to parlay with allies. He preferred coin. Especially the cold, gold, and honest circles of pledge kind.

“No, and you know what the truly sad thing is? Regis is so cold and keen, he didn’t realise that, when I sang for him, I sang him not just into the pages of his book,” she set her glass onto her own personal table, “but I sang him right into the fabric of the world the book described.” By that, she meant she had teleported Regis Daili, the Keeper of Underwood, across time and space to a distant world called Earth. “I sent him to New York,” she blinked. It was only on the providence and whim of the Thayne Tantalus she even knew of worlds beyond Althanas.

“So all he wants in exchange for his services is to see this…New Yuck for a second time?” Leopold had to shrug.

Ruby felt immensely sorry for her husband, so blinded by profit and altruism when a man’s heart was at stake. When she was done with Regis, and Regis was done with them, she would give him the opportunity of a lifetime. “When Regis is done, I will reward him something few men or gods,” she glared at the creature behind her husband’s face, “Old or New, will ever get to accept as a gift.”

She would send Regis Daili to the world he dreamed of in flights of fancy.

The Keeper

09-05-12, 05:51 PM

Day Three
Underwood Library

Regis sat at his desk with legs crossed and staring at the ground with a blank expression. An elbow rested on the arm of his mahogany and velvet seat as he leaned back just a bit. He held his hand to his mouth in thought, the thumb just under his chin and a forefinger across his lips, letting countless variables and pieces of data swim through the seemingly endless capacity of his mind.

In truth refreshing himself with basic accounting principles, and even the endless stream of jargon and rules that dominated the field, was merely a day-long task. The rest of his free time had been spent organizing the minute mess that he had accumulated in the library over the week prior, as well as rereading the many historical tomes that littered the halls of this massive structure on the regions involved in this logistical project. He had taken his time wandering through the countless ten-foot-tall bookshelves that comprised the first and second floor.

What few knew of the library, but all valued, was that the meticulously organized nature of the collection relied almost entirely on the current Keeper. That's not only to say that the Keeper was responsible for maintaining the library, but that the intellectual capacity and attention to detail and organization that comprised the individual's mind directly influenced the internal architecture and layout of the magical library. When Regis had been granted the ownership of the library from the previous Keeper, he had mostly adopted the layout that already existed - of course, there were a few changes that were inevitable. Part of why Keepers were chosen from those who were immensely familiar with the current library was to maintain a sense of consistency for visitors throughout the generations. As such, every Keeper would know the location of any particular book within the library, and could find it without much trouble; the library became an extension of the Keeper.

However, what made Regis a unique Keeper was the simple fact that he had read every book within the confines of these magical walls. From a young age, and for many decades now, the librarian had buried himself inside of his tomes throughout the days and nights of his life. Though that left little time to linger on his own personal past, it certainly gave him plenty of time to dwell.

And so his thoughts took him on a journey countless times throughout the day, daydreaming and imagining all that had been before, that may be again, and that was currently. For now, he focused on the project at hand. He was typically perceptive enough to detect any malicious intent, and he did not detect a sliver from Mrs. Winchester - though her husband was a bit in the middle of the road; though Regis was more cautious of the woman's husband, he concluded that the man's nature was more out of self-preservation than malice, and so he put it aside for now.

"Sir?" a voice said, riling Regis from his thoughts. He sat forward quickly and stood up, straightening out his jacket and looking to where the speaker stood. An average man standing just a bit taller than Regis and carrying a large box filled the doorway.

"How can I help you young man?" Regis asked with a smile, eyeing the box he held.

"Delivery from the Rose Trading Company, sir. I was told you would be ready to receive the shipment we have for you."

"Ah, yes yes, just set it down in this corner here," Regis said as he pointed beside his desk. The man followed the directions and turned left as he passed through the library's doorway and deposited the box just a few meters from Regis and his mahogany desk - as did the half dozen men that came in after him. And then they stepped outside and repeated the process twice more, leaving Regis just staring with a frown at the immense quantity of work that was literally being dropped at his feet. "Is that all?" Regis asked with a tinge of hope in his voice.

"Just sign here please and we're all set," the man said, pulling a pencil out from behind his ear and running a hand through his greasy flowing black hair. Regis did well to hide his distaste for the man's hygiene, but signed on the document and watched as the men left.

Once the men had filed out and Regis heard the clack of the hooves of horses drawing the carriage away, he walked over to the boxes. He held his hands behind his back and inspected the labels on them, wondering what they could possibly have that would be necessary for such a project. He lifted his gaze and looked around his library, letting his eyes wander from the many rows of shelves, to the rich mahogany staircase that took guests to the second floor, to the open area where his guests could sit down and read and ask Regis all they pleased. While his eyes searched, a single thought came to mind.

"Now where to put these boxes...," he found himself mumbling, "and how is an old man like me to move them?"

Ruby

11-01-12, 01:08 PM

Ruby watched Regis calmly, smoothly, and with integrity. Though the day was still young in terms of productivity, they had already been hard at it for many hours when her thoughts returned to the librarian. She had been lost in a whir of excitement, problem solving, and indiscretions involving gin.

“Do you think he wants some help?” she asked, prodding a delicate finger towards Regis, whilst turning to her husband for an answer. Leopold, ever non-chalant, could only shrug. “I didn’t ask you to volunteer,” she clucked, before she strode towards him, arms flailing, and eyes ablaze with surprise.

“Leave him be, Ruby,” Leopold heckled, holding a clipboard at arm’s length as if he had something to disclose to her. He slouched, sighed, and folded his arms over his ample chest. “For Thayne’s sake…” At this rate, they were going to take a considerably longer time than he had the patience or labour supposed.

“You put that down, this very instance, Regis Daili!” Ruby’s command could have cut through gold, given half the chance. The librarian looked up from his half stoop, surprised, but not taken aback.

“My dear, things need to be done, and I have the intellect to do it.” He rose, his back clearly jolting as he winced, “but not the body. If things need moving, who else is to move them?” he gestured with a wide throw of his arms.

“I am so very sorry,” she replied. Her earnest tone made certain Regis knew she was sincere. “Anything you want, and indeed, anything you need to complete the task at hand is a stone’s throw away.” On the other hand, in Syrian’s case, the company’s best caravan guards, a shot of whiskey.

“I can have anything at all?” Regis raised a wispy eyebrow.

Ruby nodded. “The world, as they say, is your oyster.” Though her promise to Leopold to reimburse the librarian was true, she still felt guilty that he was working on the merit of honour, and not on the promise of gold. Her admiration for him had only continued to grow the harder he worked, the stronger he persevered, and the more issues he solved with his razor sharp mind.

“Then I daresay some muscle, as your business types might say is in order,” he clipped the edge of the crate with his boot, “because efficiency is required, and order. Once we have those, any institution can pull itself ahead of its competition." If his calculations over the last two days had been accurate, as he knew they were, then there was a lot of efficiency to find within Leopold’s burgeoning, but chaotic empire.

Her trust in him was everything she could have wished for, and so much more besides. Soon, the Winchester Rose Trading Company would have much of the ruined world in its grip, and their levity, their grace, and their newfound mastery of logistics would help Althanas regenerate, regrow, and be reborn anew.

“You, you, and...,” she hesitated as she scanned the large room, her finger hovering accursedly over a third employee. She had no idea who they were, what their part to play in the coming days would be, and wherever or not they were capable. She just went with her gut. “And you,” she clapped. “All three of you, help Mr Daili with whatever tasks he desires.” She looked back at Regis. “Anything else?” Her eyes glimmered with friendship, and perhaps just a little hint of slowly rising inebriation. At the back of her mind, she worked through her own little calculations once more. A woman was no woman at all if she was not eternally working on three things at once.

“My teacup is cold,” he smiled. From experience, and from the cold climate of the library, Ruby knew that the old man meant he needed tea. She smiled back.

The press-ganged workers dropped whatever they were doing, gathered their things, and made their way reluctantly to their new charge.

“I have had Leopold bring my special blends from the city to Concordia; I think you will be quite pleasantly surprised by some, though you profess knowledge of the leaf far beyond even my considerable expertise.” She rubbed her hands together, and before he could object to her increasing hospitality, she slid across the floor to the library’s door. She was gone in a flash.

Seeing an opportunity, Leopold took a sneaky sip from his hip flask, which was full of eighteen-year-old malt, and approached the man his wife had trusted with their livelihood. He looked him up and down as he did so, wondering just how a veteran of far too many wars could put his finances right.

“Mr Daili, I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to talk man to man.” With his gruff voice, Leopold commenced proceedings on his terms, without the decorum and civility of his partner. He held out a hand. “How about we change that, and talk a little coin to collect our interests?” He smiled, or tried to, from behind his moustache and top hat’s brim.

The Keeper

12-07-12, 05:46 PM

Regis extended his hand warmly with a smile that could light up a room. There was a demeanor of compassion about this man that could make any feel at ease, and even the gruff and guarded nature of Leopold couldn’t ignore it. “I’d be more than happy to. However, I do have much to do so perhaps we can walk and talk?” With that, he gestured for Leopold to follow and also patted one of the working men on the shoulder to follow.

“I have to say, I’m a bit skeptical of all this,” Leopold admitted, a slight frown finding its way to his face as their steps forced the old oak floorboards to creak under the strain – mostly beneath Leopold’s plumper and more indulgent frame. “My business is quite important to me, and this project the most so of all I’ve done in my career – and believe me when I say that it’s quite an extensive one.”

“I do not doubt you the slightest,” Regis nodded, his hands folded behind him as he walked on through the library. Their steps brought them to a less-walked corner that appeared to be some sort of storage room. “I can assure you that I will do my best and apply all my cognitive and literary resources in order to accomplish the optimal result. I would not be so arrogant as to guarantee the optimal result, but I can only hope that you will be satisfied regardless.” As the man spoke, his slightly wrinkled yet soft hands reached for an elegant golden door handle and he inserted a key into the lock, gently turning with a click and opening the heavy door open with a bit of a grunt.

As the door opened, Leopold’s eyes went wide with surprise – an event that did not occur often, given the constant presence of the ever unpredictable Ruby by his side numbing him to any form of shock. Yet the astonishing sights of this magical and elegant structure continued to surprise him. The architecture, luxury and sheer beauty of this small hidden library in the middle of Underwood was remarkable. Along the center of the room was a large round table nearly twenty feet across made of an incredibly thick and solid piece of royal purple liviol wood. Leopold couldn’t even imagine where one might find a tree so large as to provide such a massive diameter, and the value of this table made his eyes twinkle in profiteering glee. Yet as that moment passed and he remembered who was by his side, he settled his heart rate and let his eyes wander further. A score of chairs surrounded the table, each unique with different carvings adorning the arms and backs. The table itself held a beautiful gilded engraving upon the center in a design that Leopold did not recognize. The intricacy and craftsmanship implied some significance, causing him to make a mental note to examine it further if he had the opportunity.

Upon the walls hung tapestries that were easily more than a century old, depicting beautiful scenes of significance. They ranged from diplomatic meetings of kings of old to even the opening of the very library within which they stood - which seemed the oldest, for obvious reasons. A single elegant crystal chandelier hung over the table by a thick mithril chain and as the door had opened, it slowly grew in brightness until all was lit with a warm golden glow that made it feel as if the sun itself had offered its support.

Finally, Regis’ voice took Leopold out of contemplation. “If you would, could you and some of your boys please bring me the half dozen boxes I had you set beside my desk into this room? I’d like to start sorting out the documents, and this table affords me plenty of space.” The worker, less impressed by the room, nodded and headed back to gather what was requested of him. “Now, was there something you wanted to discuss in particular?”

The burly man pulled out his flask and took a sip of whisky quickly, completely blanking as he recovered from the diversion of the room. “Yes. I mean, well no, not anything specific. I just hoped we could talk some more and perhaps you could tell me of your experience with such projects; perhaps it would put me more at ease.”

Regis smiled warmly again and his soft laugh filled the long empty room. “Well, Projects of this scale aren’t a common occurrence to the average man. These are things left to the storywriters and politicians. However, I can at least assure you that though I’ve not done anything of this scale at one time, I’ve done a bit of everything. The most assurance I can give you is that I will be thorough, and if there is something I am unsure of, I will make myself sure. As I imagine there isn’t much room for error, I will be as meticulous and careful as possible. After all, I would be ashamed of myself if I disappointed you and Miss Ruby after you two were so kind as to put your trust in me.” He bowed slightly to show his respect, fixing his glasses as he lifted his head again.

Leopold was unsure how to respond to this gesture. There was an inherent caution to the burly man, given the many experiences of his life. After all, very few could say that they had earned the trust of Leopold Winchester. Yet there was a genuine sincerity in each word that Regis spoke that was almost uncomfortable for the businessman. Throughout his life, he had found it to be a general rule that there were always subtle intentions behind every action of an individual. Altruism was but a farce. Despite the refined and keen intuition of the businessman, he was having an incredibly difficult time deducing Regis’ intentions. Could it be that he simply did not have any? 'No. That couldn’t be it,' he thought to himself. But it seemed that way…

Realizing how much his original train of thought and plans to prod the man’s mind had shifted in just the last couple minutes, from the man’s demeanor to the splendid room about him, he sighed heavily and shrugged. “I suppose that will have to do for now. I’ll stop in to see how you are doing as your work begins, and perhaps watching in itself will bring me some peace of mind.”

“As you wish,” Regis smiled, turning to the door as the men brought in the boxes. “Ah, excellent. Just set them down. I’ll get to work.”

______________________________________________

As the work began, hours passed more quickly as Regis retreated into his mind. Documents were sorted out and set upon the round table as though it were a clock, set into chronological order and placed perfectly. The chairs had all been set along the outline of the room and slowly Regis walked about, as though the hand of the clock.

The complexity of this project was beyond what he had initially anticipated. His original presumptions expected more issue with volume, yet this was different. It appeared as though much effort had been put into creating as many steps between monetary movements as possible. An endless stream of names and aliases of brokers, merchants, clients, and manufacturers – it was as though one would never know who was who. Locations changed, contracts merged or split, commissions shifted.

But Regis knew there was something here. There were hints of patterns – subtle enough to avert the typical eye but to the trained and perceptive mind, they could be detected. No trail was ever perfectly clean and dusted. There was always a breadcrumb trail left behind; hints and clues; riddles and mysteries.

And this was where Regis excelled.

However many names one might use, the pattern of thought remained. It was easier to change your name than your identity, and decisions would follow a certain psychological route. Percentages would repeat, numerical ranges would be rigid, locations would cycle. For all the accounting trickery one could possibly employ to manipulate the money market, they were all here, but they were imposed by what Regis assumed to be less than a handful of individuals - at most. And slowly he began to see it. Even their writing, for all the subtle attempts to change script once the alias changed, there were lingering traits.

Regis could see it. He could see all of it - like shadows within shadows within shadows. And he was the light that would expose them all.

Leopold, quietly in a corner holding his open flask, didn’t even bother to drink. His eyes were locked upon Regis’ own. The large man saw an intensity and sharpness he had never seen in anyone he had ever met. The absolute focus and intelligence of the old and humble librarian finally showed itself as he worked. And for the first time all day, Leopold smiled wide. As he closed his flask and stepped out of the room, a single thought found its way through his mind.

’Damn you Ruby, you’ve done it again.’

Ruby

12-30-12, 08:56 PM

It took Regis a few hours to get into the swing of things, but when he finally did, it was magical. The numerous employees of The Winchester Rose Trading Company first began to notice a change some thirty minutes after Leopold had departed. Paperwork began to, sort of; sort itself out on its own. Boxes were moved on intrepid adventures, relocated through sub regions of the library as it slowly surely became compartmentalised and swiftly put through subroutine.

People forgot it was a library, and started to feel like they were right at home.

“He is quite the anal retentive,” was all Leopold could say upon his return. When he had left, the innards of his business empire had been a ruin of abandonment and disrepair. Now, it was almost starting to look respectable. He used the term respectable loosely.

“Leopold, please be kind to him,” Ruby said sullenly. She took her husband by the arm and pulled him close, as if he might try to escape. “In such a short time he has already undone all your long years of neglect.”

“I would hardly call it neglect, dear,” he said wistfully. “It is more like an inability to be in two places at once.”

“Yes, neglect,” she said, as if her opinion was the final say in the matter. “Now, you owe Regis a long winded and elaborate explanation of the cause and effect of needing his skills, and he has one or two long winded tales about his own experiences, I believe.” Leopold cursed having made any such promise to indulge the old man with muttered breath and a snap of his fingers.

“I am aware of my obligations to the man,” he said begrudgingly. “I just wish others were not so astutely informed.” He glared at Ruby, but the tension quickly faded as they crossed the cracked, worn, and dusty flagstones. Within no time at all, they stood side by side on the opposite side of the desk to Regis. It took the scholar a few moments to realise he was no longer alone before he looked up over the wire rim of his glasses.

“Yes?” he said, rather flatly.

The silence that followed could have ruptured aeons, given half the chance. Instead, to save face, Regis rose, clicked his spine into place, and corrected himself long before either Leopold or his wife could interject.

“Yes, good sir?”

Leopold smiled. Ruby, however, did not.

“It is good to see you so astute and attentive, Regis. I have not had time to look at the figures, of course, or hear from the men.” He waved a non-chalant hand across the medley of movement, crates, and sweaty labourers. “But I can see you have worked your effervescent prowess to its limit.”

“Well,” the librarian relaxed, “it took a while, by all means, but as you can see,” he mimicked Leopold’s gesture, “things have slowly started to piece themselves together.”

“Like a puzzle,” Ruby added.

“Like a very convoluted puzzle,” Regis sighed. “When you asked me here I was curious. When I saw this,” he waved over the paperwork spread across the table, “I was desperate.” He paused. “When I got to the bottom of the errors in the Winchester business aesthetic, well…,” he sighed double so, “I nearly gave up.”

“Is it that bad?” Leopold raised a bushy eyebrow. The room continued to darken about the trip as the daylight in the sunny groves beyond began to fade from view. Time was an enemy in the midst of trusted friends, and soon, it would defeat yet another long day in the much aggrieved business calendar.

“You have a firm grasp of mercantile rhetoric, Leopold. You talk the talk, and operate at face value, but it's clear you slept through your accounting classes.” Regis tapped a line of text on the largest of the open parchments. “The operation in Salvar is a prime example of successfully operating in a region you would otherwise be barred from. You did it, I assume, because of charm and wit and,” he shrugged, “charisma.”

Ruby clucked. “He can talk the arse off a donkey, given half the chance.”

“Talk is cheap, Mrs Winchester. It has served you well up until now.” With a long, drawn out sucking of stale air, Regis traced the figures he had scribbled in now dry ink on blotting paper. “Change is in order, if you wish to continue to be successful without reprisal.”

Leopold could not help but appreciate the honesty. Speaking frankly amongst friends was how he had become as prominent amongst the merchants of Scara Brae. He had gilded his pockets with a silver tongue. All doubt about Ruby’s choice of aide for their clandestine operations left his bones, his soul, and his sensibility there and then. He smiled.

“So tell me…where did you learn to count the count and talk the talk?” he smirked.

Ruby, enticed by her prior encounter with their new accountant, practically leant in to crane her neck to ensure every word was glutted with succulent, sweet, and remorseless enjoyment. Leopold knew that she was a woman entirely poised to capitalise on being right. If that were the case, then even Regis’ tale of ancient texts would seem poultry in comparison to her intolerable gloating.

The Keeper

05-12-13, 10:02 PM

Day Seven
Underwood Library

Just days after the flurry of documents had flown into the quiet library of Underwood, everything had been sorted out – Regis had deciphered the numbers, but the answer was not what he had anticipated. However, that does not mean he was particularly surprised either.

He sat at his desk just past the entrance to the library, leaning over a freshly poured cup of black fruits tea and taking a deep breath of the citrus aroma; blackberries, blueberries, and black currants mixed with a rich traditional black tea to make a lovely brew. The contrast of the sweet smell always rang the bells of his senses a bit more pleasantly after he’d grown accustomed to the aged smell of the library. After all, despite being magical and well ventilated, the ancient scent of countless tomes persisted indefinitely.

Just as he raised the cup and quietly sipped at the tea, careful not to burn himself as the amber liquid was still a bit on the hotter side, he heard the clack of heels climbing the steps to the front of the building. He set the cup down and rose from his seat, quickly donning his long suit jacket before the lady entered.

“Regis, Leopold is asking about the work,” she began to shout before she had even entered. Meanwhile, Regis’ steps already carried him closer to the doorway to greet the woman. “He is growing impatient and… Oh!” Regis stood by the door and bowed, taking her hand and giving it a soft kiss before rising up and meeting her eyes with a smile.

“Good morning Ruby, you look lovely.” Indeed she did, though Regis was being more a gentleman than anything. She wore a satin dress of burgundy - contrasting her silver locks that fell delicately on her shoulders - which fit her tightly around the hips before widening slightly. The cloth was embroidered with silvers and blacks of elegant designs switching between flowers and webs, and the soft fabric hung gently upon her shoulders with an exposed back and a modest cut to accentuate her bust. The dress rose just above her knees, exposing her refined legs (as one would expect of a dancer), while as you followed the seam toward the back, the dress had a gown of its own that hung to the back of her black stilettos.

“Why, good morning Mr. Daili,” Ruby said with a smile and a soft laugh. “Always trying to impress I see. Now I feel rude for my entrance.”

“Oh not at all. Business is business after all, and if there is one thing that Mr. Winchester seems to take seriously it is just that. However, before we address business, I was going to take a short walk through the garden. I dare say, a man of my age could always benefit from moving about; I don’t get nearly as much exercise as I should. Would you join me, my lady?” He offered his arm to the woman as he turned to the door with a smile.

“Of course Regis, how can I say no?”

The pair walked slowly as Regis accompanied the beautiful woman to the small garden that lay behind the library. The sun had come out while the early morning dew had dissipated, and it was a lovely day indeed. A soft breeze carried with it the tastes and smells of the garden as it awoke to the songs of the birds. They followed a small brick path that took them past some trees and into a small pocket that lay hidden out of sight.

“My goodness Regis, how is it that I’ve never noticed this place?”

Regis smiled at the question, as it was one he had felt more people in this world could benefit from asking. “My lady, sometimes we miss that which is there because we aren’t looking for it. It helps at times to look for the sake of looking, rather than looking for something specific; in the end, you see more that way.”

They strode quietly about the garden as Ruby admired the small collection. It wasn’t the most spectacular, but the quaint and simple beauty of this small patch of colorful and pleasant life was something she had felt lacked in her life too often. A bit of roses, tulips, some lavender, and a few simple wildflowers were all that sat in this isolated pocket. They walked to a small mahogany bench that sat by the edge, just enough for two, and Regis gestured for the lady to sit.

“Ruby,” Regis said, his tone soft and his posture relaxed with his hands resting behind his back. “May I ask why you chose me for this project?”

The woman tilted her head slightly to the side, as though confused by the question, but she had expected he would ask eventually. “Why, because I trust you.”

“Trust me with what exactly?”

“Should there be something in particular? I thought trust was a general term.”

Regis smiled at the comment, as he knew Ruby was a bright woman, and often times playful with her words. More often than not, she would win that game – but Regis was not a man to be finagled by words or beauty. However, he was a man of tact, and still a gentleman.

“I’m honored that you trust me Ruby, but you must have known when you asked me to help in this endeavor that I’d see that which is there, even if most would not. And if that is the case, I can only imagine you wanted me to find what you left in those records. So I must ask again, why did you choose me?”

Ruby opened her mouth as if to defend herself, as though to deny that which both knew to be true. But before a sound could come out, she changed her mind and smiled, remembering why she was so fond of this quiet old man. A laugh of glee accompanies with a clap of the hands was how she demonstrated her resignation.

“I chose you because I need your help, Mr. Daili. And the matters I need help with are matters for which I can only ask aid of one I truly trust; and as I said, I trust you.”

Regis sat beside the woman on the bench who still sat cross-legged. He looked out ahead at the small garden and crossed his own legs, thinking for a few moments before turning to the woman and speaking again.

“Whatever it is you meant to hide, you seem to have put a lot of time and effort into doing just that. However, something caused you to lose your focus and drew the attentive gaze of your husband. Your husband then seeks the aid of someone whom he can trust, and he confides in you, and you confide in me – all the while the deceit he seeks is being enacted by the woman by his side whom he is asking for aid. And through all of this, you are asking me to help in this masquerade of yours and help you repair the damage you’ve done through your own folly.”

“Precisely,” Ruby said without any hesitation, smiling despite herself. She knew that he would piece it all together, and she had to wait for him to do it himself so that he thoroughly understood the complexity of the dilemma before she added the last pieces of information he would need.

“Well Mrs. Winchester, I believe it is time you explained yourself; and I truly hope you have a good reason for getting me involved in all of this, not to mention what you’re doing to your own husband.”

It was finally time to put the last pieces of the puzzle on the table: it was time to tell him of Chronicle.

Ruby

05-15-13, 11:54 AM

Ruby remained reflexively silent for several minutes. She stared solemnly out across the garden, mentally naming the various blooms that occupied raised beds and timber planters. When she scanned a rose, which danced singular in the gentle breeze, she snapped out of her momentary daze.

“I was hoping you would see it.” Her heart skipped a bit.

“Why not just ask?” Regis pressed.

The spell singer wrinkled her nose, and set her hands on her lap. She made herself as comfortable as the ageing slats beneath her buttocks allowed. She truly had hoped he would find her problem, help her, and in turn, help her new colleagues.

“In a way, I wanted to see if I could trust you.” Her heart stopped skipping, and started to pound. “That is not to say I did not trust you before, but I really needed to trust you.” Her enunciation gave the impression she really needed to, to the point of gifting him her life. “Chronicle’s success relies on a firm, strong, and secure network of like-minded people.” She pointed to the far wall, red brickwork marking the end of the garden, and the beginning of an outhouse.

“What is it?” he asked, following her gesture.

“I have several boxes of documents stored there, in an old timber house, out of Leopold’s way.” She tried to remember how long they had been there, but she wagered it did not matter. “They are the more obvious mistakes, as you call them, which I cannot let Leopold see. He will see through my attempts with ease.” She dropped her hand to her lap. “I am syphoning money from the company to help fund Chronicle’s headquarters.”

Regis had seen the outlay of her attempts in clear ink. He could trace goods, money, and shipments of paperwork all across Althanas. They had ended up in a single location, far out of the way; in a place, he did not expect anyone to want to establish a business. Just imagining the snows of Berevar made him shudder in his mothballed clothing.

“Would he not give you the money himself?”

Ruby sighed. She had asked that legitimate question many times. No matter how many times she repeated it, her answer was never satisfactory.

“Leopold is part of Chronicle too.” She shook her head, “but the organisation is supposed to be democratic. No single member should contribute more than another does. That is why I had to find money from other places, and make it seem like a colleague of mine was adding to the collective, and that I too was playing my part.” Ruby was a woman of the Scara Brae nobility, by all means, but her ‘fortune’ was entirely her husbands.

“You are stealing for the sake of politics and face?” Regis seemed almost appalled by the notion. He was old enough to contain his displeasure at the idea behind his shrewd expression of interest. The puzzle was forming on the mental table, and for that, he was glad, but he did not like the image it portrayed.

“Understand one thing Mr Daili,” she erred. “Chronicle’s place in the world is to ensure that truth, justice, and history are all accurately presented, recorded, and upheld. We are not political, warring, or tyrannical.” She had made sure the founding members had promised her that much at least. “Somebody has to stand up for the rights of the people left in the shadows of war, power, and famine.” There were far too many of those in the world currently.

Regis started to like the idea. “Yet all this highbrow talk of morality and altruism leaves you hypocritical in the wake of your crimes.” He jabbed a finger at her. “You have to tell Leopold.”

“No, no I do not!” she gasped. “Regis, I came to you to help me veil this singular crime from him. I have all the money I need, but the trail will forever in the business ledger. If it remains, and he finds it, everything we have worked so hard for over the last year will be worth nought!” Ruby felt like she could get away with that as an explanation.

Mr Daili said nothing. The tension proved her incorrect.

“He will never forgive me…,” she groaned. Her upright posture slumped into a dishevelled lean to. She wilted, as if the beauty of the garden drained all the life from her. The rose she had looked at earlier danced in the breeze, its blood red petals now the brightest thing in the garden.

“Would you honestly say you could not blame him?” Regis raised a tentative eyebrow. His limited head of greying hair began to dance spritely as the breeze whipped into a summery breath. The garden came to life, though the scholar knew not the names of the flowers that danced around him. He could appreciate their beauty all the same.

Ruby shook her head after a pause. She would not blame Leopold for scorning her if he discovered her attempts. She was not even sure he would understand why. The constant anxiety of possible revelation was taking its toll on the spell singer. She wanted it done and dusted. She wanted Chronicle established. She wanted herself expunged of guilt, responsibility, and the memory.

“I did not think so.” The librarian reflected. He tapped his chin with an inquisitive finger. With the puzzle in place, one small missing piece at the centre was troubling him more than me might like to admit. “I have been watching the world in my own peculiar way Ruby.”

Ruby turned away from the begonias on the opposite rockery, and stared into Mr Daili’s eyes. She tried to guess what he was going to get at, but was left addled. The sun, though weakened by the wind, was beginning to make her blood boil in her flattering, but ill-fitting corset.

“I have noticed nothing of Chronicle.”

Ruby smiled. Now she understood. “That is because we have tried very hard to remain out of sight until…,” though one for the dramatic, even Ruby felt silly saying it in this manner, “the time is right…”

Regis chuckled. “Who else works with you?”

Ruby clenched her teeth. “It began when my husband met one Luned Bleddyn, and that is all I can say.”

Regis had heard the name before. He watched the world with newspapers and hearsay, after all. The Salvar Herald was a particular favourite. “Well, now it begins to make sense. If the press are involved and now concerned with history and truth for truth’s sake, who am I to get in the way?” He reached for Ruby’s hand, and cupped it in his own. Affectionately, he tried to re-assure her.

“Will you help me?” Ruby pleaded, taking his hand in earnest. Her expression, weak and vulnerable, was also truthful and kind. “If so…how will you do it?”

The Keeper

05-16-13, 06:17 PM

Regis looked at the woman’s imploring expression for a few seconds before turning away and staring blankly at the garden. The external world fell away as he began to sort through the vast expanse of his mind and calculate the possibilities. Letting go of her hands and letting his own fall upon his lap, he closed his eyes and thought. Most poignant was the irony that Ruby, though supportive and proud of the Chronicle’s emphasis on truth, as well as historical accuracy, was manipulating the accuracy of its own history as well as lying about it. For now he bit his tongue on pressing the issue further and focused on discovering how exactly to approach the situation in the most tactful way.

There are those who would argue that experience is fundamental to dealing with most of what life throws at you. However, Regis was a proponent more of knowledge than experience. He felt a wise individual learns from the mistakes of others rather than having to make the mistakes themselves. In this case, experience wouldn’t be nearly as useful as the vast store of possibilities that swam through Regis’ mind. Through all the tomes he had scoured in his life there lay endless possibilities – some plausible and some not, some fictitious and some not, some applicable and some not – but the need for possibilities was key.

“Well, the most obvious and direct way to address the issue is to be honest and forthright about it, but you don’t seem too keen on that prospect. However, I will say that it is an inevitability that Leopold find out, and so I would advise you begin to think on how to approach that dilemma. From what I gather, Leopold is a pragmatic man of business, and surely there are aspects of your decision that would make sense from his perspective if you present it properly. Given that you know him better than myself, I’ll leave that to you.

“It may also be pertinent to mention that a democracy refers the influence of voice of any particular individual; funding the organization as a whole does not betray that notion, as you are not using your one voice to direct Chronicle in a direction that benefits you in particular. It is perfectly acceptable to believe and support your democracy while maintaining your one voice and providing the group the resources necessary to pursue their democratic goals as a whole.

“However, as for the documents themselves,” Regis sighed as his words trailed off and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The mistakes he had seen were well enough hidden that he wasn’t concerned, but Ruby implied that these errors were worse; the question became just how much worse? “I will need time and privacy. The sudden appearance of new documents would raise suspicion, and Leopold has a keen eye of his own. We will have to bring them into the library at an opportune time and I will handle things from there. That part I leave to you as well. For now I have to return to my desk and think. There are possibilities I need to consider. Forgive me.”

With that, he rose and gave Ruby a slight bow and a smile before turning to walk away. His steps carried him along the stone path and past the garden, his old leather shoes creaking a bit with every step, as his mind already swam far away from the forest of Underwood. The question was not only how to hide the information effectively, but also how to do so in a way that would not leave his conscience eating away at him for the rest of his days; the latter would be more difficult of course.

As he entered the library and let the familiar smell bring him comfort, he closed the door behind himself and returned to his seat. The tea was still hot, as they had not been there long, and he lifted the beautiful porcelain cup to his lips and took a small sip. He extended the cup out a bit ahead of himself, admiring the soft blue floral patterns that lined the delicate item as well as the fine gilding. The one who had given him the gift, and much more, found himself strolling across Regis’ memory.

“What would Isaac have done…” Regis mumbled to himself with a sigh, thinking of the late Keeper who had given him the responsibility of the library. Softly, he continued to speak. “We spend our days, and even our lives, dwelling in the worlds of fantasy and piecing together what we imagine to be an ideal. Alas, the reality within which we are bound seems far from that idealistic construction.” He took another sip, letting his eyes wander around the library’s familiar layout. He could almost sense the previous Keeper’s energy within its magical walls, bidding them to guide him in his decision.

“I have an opportunity to influence the direction of the world in a way I never have before and may never have again. Of course, in the grand scheme, we can only impact our environment so much; but is that sufficient reasoning to not try?” He chuckled at his own rhetorical exercise, knowing what had to be done.

“Well, Ruby will be pleased at the least. However, the issue of Leopold will need to be addressed. For all the pieces to fall into place, he must know as well, or she will forever be forced to keep her secret from the closest man in her life, and that simply will not do. As long as he knows, I will fix the errors so foreign eyes will never see. And hopefully the world will be better for it. For what are we if not our actions and our intentions?”

Another sigh escaped his lips as he raised the cup to his lips again and swallowed what remained in the cup, closing his eyes and enjoying the rich brew. “What a world,” he mumbled, pouring himself a fresh cup and leaning back in his chair. “What a world indeed.”

Leopold

05-24-13, 02:57 PM

The week had gone far too quickly for Leopold’s liking. Despite each day being tediously long, hot, and bothersome, he was far from ready for his next expedition. His logistical sensibilities felt tested to their limits. Seated in the libraries geography section, he had to lean back one more time to admire the grandiose chamber. On his previous visit to obtain Mr Daili’s support, he had been too ignorant to notice how beautiful it was.

“Tucked away in the middle of nowhere,” he quipped. He trailed his gaze over the golden aertex, which lined the ends of the bookshelves, and jumped over the spines of long abandoned tomes on everything from the formation of Haida to the end of the War of the Tap. The very history of Althanas’ surface surrounded him with tense and historical atmosphere.

He had left Regis and Ruby to work out the inner machinations of his mercantile operations. He had not seen him or her for his entire return trip to the Salvar fringes, and he was anxious to reunite with his wife. He was anxious because both he missed her, and because he hoped, she had found the underlying cause of why his world turned upside down.

“Remind me,” he whispered into the shadows, “invest in a little interior decorating.”

Of late, he let business needs outweigh marketing. His offices were functional, small, and well stocked. They were also plain, devoid of life and colour, and not very welcoming for potential new clients. The only exception to this was the Winchester household itself. There, he welcomed his more prestigious clients and members of the merchant guild. It's location on the isle of Scara Brae made it difficult to impress clients from Salvar, Berevar, and more recent, Raiaera too.

“Oh well,” he said aloud, his long wait getting to him. He had to do something to keep his mind occupied. Ruby had promised to see him once she had tended to one last final detail. He had not given it any thought, but three hours later, he began to question just what had happened here in his absence.

He rose from the bench and walked to the bookcase opposite. The main hall of the library lined with elaborate, well made, and highly ornate globes. Each depicted Althanas from a different period. The one nearest the great doors was earliest, showing the continents pre-Tap. The one nearest the great windows was only painted a year or so ago, from what he had gathered. The shape of Raiaera on the curve of the wood had given Leopold an idea.

“Where did I see…?” he erred, running a pudgy finger along the spines of the books. “Not you…,” he mumbled. “Early Kachuk Dwarven Culture?” he read aloud, chuckling to himself. “No, definitively not you…,” he continued as he scanned several more books.

Eventually he found the tome he had sworn he had seen on his wander. Before settling down on the bench, he had walked around the library, arms tucked into the small of his back, and head held high. The smell of old books, mothballs, and tea-leaves had added to the reverent atmosphere in the building. He was walking through a chronicle. The irony did not slip by the merchant.

“Geographical History of Berevar,” Leopold said clearly. He returned to his bench, turning the book over in his hands, and admiring the golden inlay on the spine that highlighted the name of the author. He chuckled. He sat. He read the name aloud with pride. “By Leopold Clarence Winchester.”

He began to read, to pass away the time before his wife once again rubbed it into his face that she had saved his bacon.

Ruby

05-25-13, 04:21 PM

Ruby Winchester had never been able to admit her mistakes. It was not in her nature to concede defeat to others. That truth was more poignant as far as her relationship with her husband went.

“You’re a stupid bitch, Ruby,” she said, loudly, and flatly.

The Library echoed non-chalant indifference. The golden trim and the endless shelves laden with historical tomes seemed to think little of her trifling trivialities. What was a woman’s scorn, compared to the observation of history?

“You are a stupid, selfish, and incorrigible wretch,” she stomped her heel onto the black marble tile beneath her feet. It echoed thunderously through the grand chamber of Regis’ library.

With heavy breaths, the spell singer tried to control her temper. She clenched her fists into tight, whitened balls of rage. She clenched her teeth, the porcelain bridgework that undid the damage of too much gin and not enough care strained in her jaw. She set her eyes on the great window on the far end of the long space, and then sighed. Her sigh could have sent a man to sleep for an age.

Unwittingly, she had announced her arrival to Leopold. The merchant pricked his ears, not entirely sure if he was hearing things in his daze, or if he should rise and greet her at once. When she stamped a second time, his doubts faded. He breathed once heavily, closed his book, and rose. His boots danced furtively over tiles and brought him out from behind the alcove, straight into Ruby’s view.

“Leopold…,” Ruby said, with a start. Her eyes widened into pallid grey orbs of surprise. She knew he would meet her here, but she did not expect him to be early. “I…,” she stuttered.

The merchant, dutiful, and merciful as ever, pressed against the worn spine of the tome. With a spare ounce of energy, he cast it into an abyss. The swirl of black energy swallowed it whole, and stole it away into his private vault. A few seconds later, protected by the librarian's magic, the book dropped back onto the bench where he had been sat. Leopold would be enraged when he found out, because there were few copies of his book left in the world.

“Hello dear,” he said with a smile. His voice bounced around the library with ease, and without any need to bellow. He began to approach her, arms swinging rumbustiously, chest puffed out with excitement and pride.

“No!” she whelped. She pressed her hands forwards, as if to repel him.

Leopold froze. Despite the fact he was some feet away, he still felt it. He raised an eyebrow. He was worried for his wife, because if she was like this, then something was very wrong.

“Ruby…you’re scaring me. What is wrong?” His voice was as sincere as could be.

Ruby tried to put it to words, but could not quite manage it. She had made a promise to Regis, by all means, but she found herself wavering between honesty and deception. It had been all too easy up until now. Leopold was the one thing in her grand design that threatened to undo her resolve. She frowned. She slapped her hips, hesitation plastered over her withered brow.

“I need to tell you something…,” she said pensively.

Leopold, apparently understanding, continued to approach.

“You know you can tell me anything,” he said light-heartedly, with much encouragement. When Ruby frowned further, he began to feel dangerously anxious. She had not been this upset since the troupe’s playhouse found itself destroyed. She looked lifeless, and that, in turn, made him feel hollow. “Anything at all…,” he added, flatly.

Ruby shook her head, to disagree, “I wanted to tell you so long ago…” She burst unceremoniously into tears. The library forgot, for just a moment, about the rest of the world. It turned its ears to the history unfolding right before its eyes. Ruby Winchester, formerly the Crimson Mistress, was about to apologise.

“As I said,” Leopold’s voice turned calming as he spread his arms wing like, and embraced her in a soured reunion, “you can tell me anything.”

They snuggled together by the pre-Tap globe, rocking gently back and forth, and side to side, as lovers often did after a long absence from one another’s company. When Leopold grew intoxicated by the smell of her perfume, her hair, and her soul, he pushed her softly backwards, and ran a finger down her nose. It was a thing he did. She liked it. It brought her back to her senses.

“The problems…,” she sniffled. “All the problems with the company…” She tried to wipe the tears from her cheek with the hem of her sleeve, but Leopold’s hand darted out to interject. He pushed it down slowly.

“Let it out, Ruby…,” he warned. “Just let it all out.”

She nodded deftly.

“It was me.”

Leopold blinked.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, somewhat perplexed. He had expected something along the lines of a child expected, or a death in the motley crew they had both come to call their extended family.

“I have been taking money from you.”

A thunderbolt would have struck Leopold’s near-mono brow had the roof of the library not been built so deftly. He took a step back. He gasped. His heart skipped a beat. He forgot about his book, his trip to Fallien later that week, and all the things he had done, seen, and heard in his long life.

“I…why would you…what?” he blurted, asking three questions all at once. None of them made sense. “Ruby…do you mean to tell me, that we have gone to all this trouble,” he spread his arms, less wing like, and more accusatory spear like, and took in the library in its entirety, “because you aren’t satisfied with your lot?”

For once, Ruby felt frightened, worried, and scared about her husband’s behaviour. She pressed her fingers together pensively. All the glamour Regis saw, Leopold threw aside. He flared his nostrils, rightly so, and clenched his fists as she had done to restrain her frustrations. The serene atmosphere in the library shattered.

“I didn’t have a choice!” she attested. It was true. Leopold’s expression told her he did not believe a word she was saying. “We have to make Chronicle work,” she pleaded. “We have to make sure everything we have put together so far doesn’t come undone for something as stupid as…”

“- like my wife ruining me?”

The only thing Leopold did not do in that moment was thrust a literal knife. His words cut Ruby metaphorically, spiritually, and utterly.

The Keeper

05-25-13, 10:13 PM

“I wouldn’t exactly say ruined,” Regis said from one of the balconies within the library. The pair had been so consumed with one another that they hadn’t noticed his approach moments ago. He had also heard Ruby’s fit and had decided to see what it was all about, but when he had seen that the woman was about to uphold her end of the bargain, he quietly leaned upon a railing and watched. Until now that is.

The two down below looked up at the old man, whom they were ironically both much older than despite appearances, with a bit of surprise and almost betrayal.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but if you’ll please forgive me, I didn’t intend to. I simply heard a ruckus in my library and decided to investigate the source. It was merely chance timing.” He smiled as he turned away from the railing, leaving the two waiting as he quickly descended a nearby spiral staircase. He approached with soft steps upon the old wooden floors before soon reaching the black marble tile that had been accomplice in Ruby's ruckus. He fixed his black jacket with a quick tug and bowed at the husband and wife pair.

“You say I’m not ruined. Explain yourself! You’re a part of all this now, and so you are just as responsible!” Leopold began to approach Regis with rage in his eyes but Ruby stopped him, though the librarian didn’t recoil in the least.

“I will explain, if you give me the opportunity,” the librarian said with another bow, while Ruby eyed him both with fear for his life and hope that what he said was true. After all, if it were true, perhaps she could forgive herself. “Your wife, though apparently not below stealing from her own husband, is no accountant. And as you know, she is also one for dramatics; that holds true in this situation as well.”

Leopold couldn’t help but let a laugh out at the truth of the statement, easing his anger while elevating Ruby’s as she let out a harrumph. Truthfully, she couldn’t stay upset with the man given his gentle demeanor and hope that he was being sincere in his statement; she had no reason to believe otherwise.

“I’ve reviewed your ledgers dating back more than a decade and scoured every number, transaction, contract, etc. I will not deny that she was in fact stealing from you. However, the damage wasn’t nearly as serious as she implied both to me and to you just now. The numbers are repairable, and the trail can and has in fact been dusted thoroughly. The work is done and the smudges have been made to hide the evidence. As for the health of your actual finances, they are in good shape, though not as good as they would have been obviously. In fact, given the circumstances and political turmoil in the world, it is easy to chalk up the losses to difficulties associated with business in such harsh times - so that those in the future will see no reason as to why it may not be true.”

“But my business thrives under these circumstances! We have never been as busy as we are now!” Leopold argued, flustered by the simple mistake that such an intelligent man could make. Surely Regis would know that.

And of course he did, as his knowing smile showed. “It is true your business overall has flourished, but only certain parts of your business. After all, there are branches of the company that have incurred losses, yes?”

“Well, yes…,” Leopold conceded, “but they have been greatly outweighed by the gains.”

“Yet if we shrink the amount of gains and grow the degree of loss we mitigate the impact of the siphoned funds. In such small increments over such an extensive period of time, it is impossible to trace or track. An audit would only function if there were various duplicates of these transactions all over Althanas, and again, given the tumult of the world, I imagine most records have been lost at this point or destroyed in one manner or another. War has that tendency after all, as you both know.”

The logic seemed so straight forward and simple yet so effective to the husband and wife that they stood in almost a dumbfounded manner. Their mouths hung open with their arms by their side, both facing the man.

“But… what about the actual losses?” Leopold asked, still unsure of the impact his wife's indiscretions had caused to his finances, aside from the paper trail.

“I assure you, though you are missing some funds, you are still in quite a good position, and as your business is actually doing quite well, we can let this loss vanish into the annals of time without risking the future of the Winchester Rose Trading Company or your marriage. And after all, the losses are for a good cause – think of it as a charitable deduction.” Regis winked at the man, his smile spreading even wider as he looked over the pair.

Ruby

05-26-13, 03:40 PM

“A…charitable...deduction,” Leopold repeated, excruciatingly slowly. There was something right, but so very wrong with that phrase.

He rested his hands on his hips and curled his rumbustious lips into a shrewd cross between a smile and a frown. He was all but ready to sign away the divorce papers, but this still paled in comparison to some of the trials and tribulations the pair had been through over the centuries. It was simply part of being a Winchester.

“I had to make sure that Chronicle was not jeopardised because of my failings,” Ruby said softly. Leopold dropped his gaze to the polished floor. Ruby, seeing an opportunity, looked up at Regis from his grandiose balcony. He was already long gone. “Given what the funds will bring to Althanas, can you at least tell me it is worth it?”

Leopold looked up sharply. His eyes glowed with anger. “You could have destroyed everything, Ruby.” There was every bit of truth in that cutting remark. “I do not just mean my financial reputation.” He looked up at the balcony. "We have much to discuss with Mr Regis."

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked sheepishly.

Leopold spread his arms wide, as if to refer to the bigger picture. The beautiful décor of the library, humming with magic that seemed to object to the disturbing uproar, tingled over the Old God’s skin. “The business is not just about lining our pockets. It is not just about making sure you have a comfortable life.” He dropped his hands without ceremony. They slapped against his ample girth and delicately stitched pockets.

“If not that, what?” she snapped. She gritted her teeth. Though intuitive, Ruby was finding it hard to work out just what Leopold wanted her to say. That, though, was the story of her life.

“People rely on me.” Leopold sighed. All over Althanas, the repair work and materials the company provided to warzones was literally a lifeline. “Their lives broken, they turn to reliable sources of building sources to put their worlds back together.”

Ruby nodded slowly. She had seen the effect he had had first-hand. Knife’s Edge was starting to look like a city again because he had put his life, his reputation, and the lives of his caravan guards on the line to supply timber from the Brokenthorn and steel from the mines of Sess-Terria. Whilst it was true Scara Brae had profited indirectly from their operations, it was, and always would be, a charitable business.

“I…” Ruby looked confused, turned around, and the smiled. “Regis…I cannot thank you enough.”

“If indeed the smudges are untraceable, and the trail of devastation my wife has left has been…” Leopold fell silent.

“Erased from history?” Regis offered, his hands tucked into the small of his back, and his high-ridged nose rose as if to look down on the disturbance with a patriarchal glare. “It will never be seen or heard of again, save from our three mouths.”

Leopold looked up at the roof again, composed to find comfort in any sight but the librarian or his wife. He had hardly slept for weeks with anxiety over what was causing such a calamity in his financial accounts. He had put it down to bandits, robbery, and treachery…never the closest person he trusted in the entire world. He felt not just betrayed, but weak, lay bare, and bereft of his self-certainty.

“Is something troubling you, Mr Winchester?” Regis enquired. He leant in to Ruby’s ear as he walked passed, and whispered something that made her blush. He continued past Leopold, turned ten feet away, and waited.

“I just…” Leopold dropped his gaze. He paused when he realised Regis had moved, and turned around. He rolled his eyes. Regis was beginning to be as troublesome as Ruby after a bottle or two of Ambrosia gin. “If you have done a thorough job as my wife attested from the very beginning, then I guess this is a moral dilemma, not a financial one.”

“Moral?” Regis raised a wispy eyebrow. "An interesting term really. From all I've read and experienced, morals are not exactly as rigid as we would like them to be. Given your extensive though well hidden age and experience, I'd have expected something a bit... different from you Mr Winchester."

“Please, call me Leopold.” Leopold frowned. “We are a little beyond formalities.” He felt lain bare enough to throw caution to the wind. The stifling rigidity of acting around someone who had changed Althanas forever was addling his brain. If only Mr Daili knew how closely watched and admired he was by the forces that be. Leopold had watched Mr Daili, and his forbearers, quite intently over the years. “Moral because I am faced with a dilemma between throwing Ruby out of Chronicle, and asking you if you wish to join our endeavour.”

Ruby blinked.

Leopold smiled.

Regis, intuitive and calculating as ever, realised there was still a corner piece missing of their idyllic summer scene. He fumbled for the piece in the back of his mind.

After a short silence, Ruby piped up. “I don’t think Regis knows what Chronicle is, Leopold…,” she offered. She looked at the librarian, to make sure her assumptions were correct.

The Keeper

05-26-13, 06:17 PM

Regis let his gaze fall for a moment, flattered by the offer. However, considering the circumstances of his life, he already knew the answer. “Thank you for the kind opportunity, and to answer your question, though it may be hard to believe, I am aware of Chronicle. I imagine not as intimately as you two, but sufficiently enough to make my decision. I hope you’ll understand if I decline,” he finished with a smile and a slow bow.

“Regis…,” Ruby began softly, wanting to reach out to Regis. However, Leopold outstretched an arm to stop her. When she looked upon her husband, his sincere shake of the head to not pursue the endeavor showed her that he was right. The librarian wasn’t one to make rash decisions. If he had said no so quickly, she could only guess he had entertained the possibility prior and made his decision beforehand.

“I have lived my life as a quiet librarian, humbly taking on the responsibility of Keeper of this fine collection. And as such, I have one true responsibility to this land, and that is to do my best to accommodate those seeking answers, regardless of the question. Not only that, but I’ve always preferred to be a passive observer rather than active contributor to history; given my participation in this little dilemma of yours, I’ve already done more than I had initially expected to. Still, I do what I can for friends, however few and far in between they may be. Though admittedly, I hope you both understand that your actions have already tainted the core of what Chronicle stands for. For the truth and integrity of history, we've all just belittled its very premise.”

His words were spoken with such softness and genuineness that the husband and wife couldn’t say a word in response. They knew they wouldn’t change his mind, and knew him to be right as well. Leopold took a step forward, extending a hand to the librarian who took it firmly. “Regis, I can’t thank you enough. It may not seem like much, but you’ve done more for the land of Althanas than you may know. And even though your words ring true, we will make amends and ensure something like this never happens again.”

“Please, I simply muddied some numbers on old papers. What you do is substantially more imperative than that.”

“That may be true, but those numbers are what let me make that impact, and I will never forget that. Not to mention that you’ve lifted a huge burden off my wife’s shoulders.” He turned to Ruby, reaching an arm out for her to come closer which she did with a smile.

“Leopold…,” she said with a kiss as she rested her open hand on his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done with,” he said with a wave of a hand. “As Regis said, it never even happened.” He winked at the librarian, who still wore a warm smile.

“So what’s next for the Keeper of the Collection?” Ruby asked, smiling fondly on the man who continued to impress her.

“The usual: a hot cup of tea and back to the daily responsibilities. There are some books I had delivered recently that I need to review and decide whether they belong in the Collection.”

A thought popped into Leopold’s mind at the mention. “Speaking of, there’s a book I stumbled across. From what I imagine, I can’t have the original, but perhaps you know of a way I could get a copy?”

With that, Regis took his hand from behind his back and held out a newly bound book to the man. Leopold reached out hesitantly, taking the crimson binding and reading the golden letters on the spine with surprise. “But how did you…?”

“I had a feeling. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Another polite bow and fix of his jacket and Regis turned, his worn loafers walking softly along the old wooden floors as he made his way back to his desk. “Oh, and it was lovely seeing you Ruby. You two are welcome to visit any time,” he said before he had gone more than a few steps. Within a few moments, he was gone, and the pair were left alone among the endless tomes.

“I like him,” Leopold said, a smile spreading across his face as he pulled out his trusty flask and took a quick swig.

“As do I,” Ruby agreed, looking into the eyes of the man she loved and giving him an appreciative kiss.

Ruby

05-28-13, 07:42 AM

Epilogue

Their journey to Salvar was oddly light-hearted, compared to the stressful and heated days that preceded it. After the turbulent events of the recent week, Ruby had expected to ride alone. She had dreamt of all sorts of nightmarish outcomes to her excursion to the library, but never this. She watched Leopold, head first in his newspaper, with a fondness she had not felt for many a year. It was not because her love for him had faded, by any means. She just felt bogged down beneath the effluent waves of a busier, more demanding, and chaotic life.

“Well, it’s a bit of a mess in Scara Brae, according to this,” Leopold said. “Listen.” He looked over the edge of the paper to check Ruby was indeed listening. She nodded. “Recent uprising in the slums and activity from a group referred to as the Scourge has set the royal house on edge. Security is being tightened in the capital, and the palace is seeing no visitors, save for members of foreign governments.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. She knew exactly why before Leopold read on.

“Arden…,” she said softly.

The carriage trundled on in silence. Leopold read the rest of the article, and when he saw the name ‘The Hound’, he nodded gruffly.

“You are again one step ahead of me dear.”

“It seems he’s been quite busy in our absence.”

“Did you know about this?” The merchant raised an eyebrow questioningly. Though he still trusted Ruby with his many lives, he had taken to using her deception as a mocking tool to keep her on her toes.

“I did not know he’d returned from Akashima.” The spell singer gritted her teeth. She would have stern words with her brother when they next got a chance to return to their home. That, she bemoaned, would be a fortnight from now at best. “I guess we have been a little pre-occupied.” She looked out of the carriage’s window. She rode with the curtains pulled back, so that she could see the winding road as it carried them through the pine forests of the wilderness.

Leopold tried to think of something to say. After everything that had occurred in Underwood, he had started to become more aware of how he acted, and what he said around his wife. He had always paid attention, but now he really, truly, and madly picked on the threads of every possibility. He had too much to lose in hating her like that again.

“Tell me something…,” he erred. “Tell me truly.”

Ruby looked back into the carriage, and set her eyes on her husband’s pleading, sweating expression. Despite the cold outside, the lanterns and the scintillating enchantments on the carriage kept them cosy and content. She frowned, and ruined her delicate complexion with worry lines and dimples.

“Go on…” She folded her arms across her lap, and they bobbed up and down on the tension of her overblown undergarments and trail. She had dressed for the inevitable gala arrival in Knife’s Edge, where they would taste the hospitality of one of the many duchesses that Leopold’s business had helped back to power after the war. There would be no time after they arrived to change. “I can but try.”

“If Regis had never discovered the truth behind the financial deviancy, would you have told me?”

From Ruby’s sour expression, Leopold thought he had stuck a dagger in her back. He tensed every bone in his body, trying to resist the urge to reach once more for the hip flask that was as much a blessing for him as a curse. He wondered why he had let such a stupid question pass his lips.

“No.”

Leopold blinked. He had not expected that.

“Wait…no? What does that mean?”

Ruby wished she could just skip ahead to the next topic. She cursed herself for being naïve enough to think Leopold would not ask. If he did, she had expected it to be much further down the line. She expected to have had the time to think up a reasonable, poignant, and oratory excuse. She supposed no saved her a lot of hassle in the end.

“You’d have just let me flounder on…” He reached for his hip flask after all. “Blaming everyone else for something you could have put right by damned well asking!” He downed the bourbon as soon as his grubby fingers undid the stopper. It burnt his throat, and left no luxurious aftertaste like it usually did. He shuddered.

“Leopold, you have to understand…it was Regis that convinced me to overcome my idiotic sensibilities. He made me see sense.” However, by sense, Ruby meant he held her emotions ransom. She had no choice in the matter, once the librarian had pictured his grand puzzle and deemed her admissions to be the last, all too crucial pieces.

“I am very glad he did.”

“In the end, he was right to do so. I owe him much more than he will ever let me repay,” Ruby said flatly. She turned to look out of the window again. She could not bear to look at Leopold. She was guilty, by all means, but now he was being cruel.

“I knew, Ruby.”

“You…knew?”

Leopold

05-29-13, 07:59 AM

Day 14

“I want to thank you, Regis,” Leopold said softly. He stepped into the office doorway cautiously.

The librarian looked up from his floral cup, and smiled warmly at the merchant.

“Whatever for, Leopold?” he replied questioningly. Wisps of steam curled up around his regal features.

Taking that as an invite to enter, Leopold walked across the polished tiles and took a seat opposite the parchment-covered desk. He glanced casually over the neatly stacked piles of accounts, inventories, and bibliographies. He wondered if Mr Daili ever rested, outside of a cup of tea in the sun. He adjusted himself until he was comfortable.

“For going along with my…plotting,” he mused.

Regis smiled. “As long as you understand my part in it is done. You, however, still have much work to do towards healing the rift between yourself and Mrs Winchester…” He trailed off. He was certain Leopold did not need further exposition.

“Mark my words Mr Daili. I will do everything I can.” Leopold grinned. He looked at the teapot on the desk, and deigned himself thirsty. He did not wait for tea. He went for his flask, as usual, and sipped the first dram tentatively. By now, the sun was high, and the afternoon was whittling away into early evening.

“I was quite surprised when you caught me the other day.” Regis had to admit, he had not expected the circumstances of the assignment for the merchant to become so complicated. “If you had come a few minutes earlier, you would have run into Ruby.”

Leopold nodded appreciatively. “I have an impeccable sense of timing,” he said, with a chuckle. He clenched his teeth. He had not realised. “This reminds me…” Leopold leant forwards. “Thank you for the book.”

Regis nodded. His gut feeling about that had been right on the money. “You are welcome. I must ask, though, why you did not simply ask in the first place. I would have been more than accommodating in providing you with a copy.” He raised an eyebrow.

Guiltily, Leopold leant back into the chair. “I did not expect your library to protect itself so stubbornly.” He frowned. He had tried to take the book, but the library had deemed that impolite. “I am sorry.”

“It is alright,” Regis, quipped. Leopold was not sure that it was, but Mr Daili was an expert orator that was starting to best both Mr, and Mrs Winchester. Leopold’s earlier doubts about his capabilities felt rightly quashed. “It is quite a…” He curled his lips. “An interesting read.”

Leopold chuckled. “You must forgive its lack of quality and style. I wrote it…” He paused to consider his facts. He rolled his eyes, mock counted on his pudgy fingers, and then nodded as if to agree with his inner thoughts. “Some six hundred years ago.” It was a rough calculation, but it sounded about right.

“I am just glad to have met somebody who has so astutely observed history as you.”

“Oh, please, Mr Daili.” Leopold pressed his hands onto the arms of the chair. He took on an air of kingly glamour, his demure smile igniting his face with a dash of excitement. “I only watched the tentative years of Berevar, and wrote what I saw. It was hardly history.” He gestured to the room in general. “You, sir, are the true keeper of time and testament.”

Neither man spoke. The soft wind rattled against the windows, and the sun, heavy and thick with heat, cracked the tiles. It would heat the chamber into a cosy retreat for intellectuals and academics long after dark.

“If you do not mind me saying so,” Leopold added.

“You are too kind Mr Winchester,” Regis thanked. He returned to etiquette and style, set his cup down onto the untarnished saucer, and folded his fingers together. He rested his arms on the mahogany desktop. “However, history has no one author, and when it is forced through an individual's perspective, it morphs from its true form. But I get the feeling...I get the feeling you have not come here to discuss the finer detail of your literary career.”

Leopold chuckled. He felt beaten to the point yet again. “Asides thanking you, and saying my goodbyes, I had a question to ask…”

He had asked the question already. With his wife’s loyalty ascertained, and the pieces of Regis’ puzzle witnessed, put together, and glued firmly in place, Leopold saw opportunity to ask it again. Everything Regis had said up until now, through hell and high water, anger and calm, told Leopold he could convince him to change his mind.

“Then ask?”

“Will you join Chronicle?”

Regis sighed. It was more a long exhalation of air, disappointment, and fatigue.

“I was under the impression I had already given you an answer.”

Leopold nodded. “You did, sir, and I daresay I am wasting your time asking again. However, you said something yesterday, that made me think my fortunes changed.”

“I said that I thought Chronicle was important.” Regis nodded. He recalled the conversation they had in Leopold’s ‘man to man’. “I said that it was more important than teaching Ruby the morals and lessons about stealing from you to better those needs. I did not say I believed myself worthy of being counted amongst its ranks.”

Leopold nodded, seeing no point in pressing the matter further. “You cannot blame me for trying.” He grinned like a jackal. Regis nodded half in agreement, half in a bothersome vein of wanting to be alone. It had been a long month. He was quite tired of the world he kept distant knocking on his door.

“Well.” Leopold slapped his knees, pushed himself upright, and stretched. “I thank you once more for teaching my wife levity, me logistics, and hopefully, for learning a little about grace in return.”

Regis rose to see him out, but Leopold pressed a palm at him. “Please, rest well. I have disturbed you enough today.” He walked to the chamber’s door. “We will be leaving at sunrise, should you wish to partake in a light breakfast with us?” He looked over his shoulder as he asked.

“But of course,” the librarian replied.

“Excellent!” he clucked as he strolled out into the corridor.

Luned

09-17-13, 10:32 PM

Thread Title: Levity, Logistics, and Grace
Judgement Type: Full Rubric
Participants: Mrs & Mr Winchester, The Keeper

Plot ~ 20/30

Story ~ 7/10 – While the first half was a bit slow and meandering, when the twist arrived, I was fully invested in the story. I enjoyed getting to know the library and three characters, as well as their dynamics with one another. If Ruby and Leopold were any couple, I might have not believed how easily their mutual scheming had been smoothed out, but considering their marriage spans centuries, I imagine they've seen worse.

Setting ~ 7/10 – A lot of walking occurred while talking, giving plenty of opportunity for setting exploration. I got a good picture of the library and its grandiose nooks and crannies, though it could have used some clearer quirks to set it apart from other lavish institutions.

Pacing ~ 6/10 – To be honest, I didn't get really into the reading until Ruby confessed what she'd been doing. It took me forever to get through the first half of the thread because I wasn't invested in it, but that delicious tension motivated me to plow through the second half in record time.

Character ~ 22/30

Communication ~ 8/10 – I can tell the effort that went into the dialogue in this thread and greatly appreciate that it never turned into a session of talking heads. That being said, Duffy, something common in your writing is splitting dialogue mid-sentence with actions. While adding flair is most definitely important, it interrupts the clarity at times when done so often. Example: “As it happens, I do in fact know of a man that might be,” she nodded back and forth to show her hesitation, though Leopold, shrewd as he was, knew she was feeling nothing of the sort, “worthy of your needs.” (She lost her breath in there when I read it in my head.) That being said, I'm only nitpicking because it stood out amongst an otherwise great example of communication in a thread.

Action ~ 6/10 – Constant, subtle movement kept the large amounts of dialogue from burdening the thread. This was done well, though at times the quiet nature of the first half of the thread dragged. When Leopold came in out of the cold after a Salvic adventure of sorts, for example, I kind of wished we got to see part of that.

Persona ~ 8/10 – Descriptors like "floral" and "regal" followed Ruby for the first few posts, I wish I saw more of it so it blossomed into technique territory. The strength of her unique, time-tested relationship with her husband really shone. Regis acknowledged his age but had some little quirks that kept him from becoming a stereotypical old librarian dude, which was appreciated.

Prose ~ 22/30

Mechanics ~ 8/10 – I can tell you both proofread this well. There were a few little typos/mishaps, but far less than I usually see. The effort is appreciated. Keeper's post 9 did have a beast of a run-on with curious punctuation (and I normally don't mind minor run-ons in comparison to others), so keep an eye out for those: He was typically perceptive enough to detect any malicious intent, and he did not detect a sliver from Mrs. Winchester - though her husband was a bit in the middle of the road; though Regis was more cautious of the woman's husband, he concluded that the man's nature was more out of self-preservation than malice, and so he put it aside for now. Also, the construction of this sentence in Winchester's post 12 baffles me: Paperwork began to, sort of; sort itself out on its own.

Clarity~ 7/10 – A bit is lost here for the communication issue I mentioned earlier. Keeper, in your first post you split Regis' dialogue across paragraphs, which was a little confusing to read as it made me think Ruby had begun speaking again. An example of dialogue split effectively across multiple paragraphs can be seen in your post 7. I also had to reread Ruby's reasoning for embezzling that money, especially since it had been established that Leopold wholeheartedly funded her lavish tastes.

Technique ~ 7/10 – Uses of words from the title throughout the thread were noted and appreciated, and switching between characters' perspectives as the days passed kept it a bit more interesting. Not particularly adventurous, but fairly solid. Keeper, especially in the first few paragraphs of your first post, you had quite a few repeated words close together (trace/tracing, tea, brew, etc). Adding some variance could be a bit of finesse that could push your writing to the next level.

Wildcard: 7/10 – While I didn't enjoy the first half of the thread nearly as much as the second, it came to a delightful climax with an amusing epilogue. Strong finish.

Final Score: 71/100

Mrs Winchester earns 1228 EXP
The Keeper earns 880 EXP and 298 GP
Mr Winchester earns 223 EXP

Spoils requests granted! Regis totally deserves a fancy tea set. I've also added a 10% bonus in EXP as I did notice a difference in the level of polish between this and other threads I've judged of Duffy's, which was appreciated as a frequent reader.