Tall Tales of Sa'Vard Nov 24, 2014 22:57:53 GMT
Post by Timeon on Nov 24, 2014 22:57:53 GMT
With a sigh, Steward placed his quill in its inkpot and steepled his fingers. He cleared his throat and arched his back slightly just as the door to his new office creaked open. In shuffled a familiar man, slight of build, a lute strung across his back. Only Matthias Swiftstrings could look so disorderly and unkempt and still look charming about it.
The two men made uneasy eye contact. Neither wanted to have the discussion that was about to come, but it was unavoidable. Best to get it over with quickly then. Both Steward and Matt had shared this mutual understanding from the very moment the latter had walked inside.
"Take a seat, Master Swiftstrings." Steward offered, gesturing slowly across his desk. Matthias Swiftstrings might not officially lead Lohengrin, but Steward was under no illusions as to who the office really belonged to.
"Thanks." Matthias managed awkwardly, eyes never leaving Steward as he sat down. "Sorry to get you out of bed this early."
Steward arched an eyebrow.
"It's half past ten..."
"Right." Matt said. "That's what I said. Anyway. I suppose you'll want to hear about Purrsia then."
"Right." Steward answered with his second sigh of the morning. "Let's hear it then, Master Swiftstrings."
"It went a little something like this..." Matt began. His tale was needlessly artistic and dramatic, and Steward had no doubts that Matt could never tell a boring story if he tried. Regardless, there was nothing boring about Purrsia. Steward scribbled down notes throughout. He could not help but pause and smile when Matt described how Hechin entered the harem's quarters through the pipes with one of Charlie's elemental extracts, only to get caught at a most awkward moment.
"I never took him for a pervert." Steward could not help but comment. "I've known holy men whose passions are inflamed by the limits of their station, but-"
"Oh, did I forget to mention?" Matt said, managing a smile of his own. "He meant to rescue them, obviously. But I guess that's a less interesting version of events. Anyway. Hasir got angry, the Rising Fire tried to rescue Hechin. Slavery was mentioned. The usual. I kept out of it, but you know how Brokk is. They got themselves killed. The lot of them. Executed. It was really dramatic."
Steward ceased writing his notes and looked up at Matt's faint smile and shining eyes.
"They're not really dead, are they." It was not even a question.
Matthias Swiftstrings touched his nose.
"Right then. I guess you'll be looking over my shoulder then? To make sure everything is going right?"
"Well..." Matt said with a shrug. "Maybe. I'm planning on taking a bit of a holiday myself, to be honest. After I've cleared my name, that is. Still have to prove I was enslaved illegally. Complete waste of time. But it's all a show."
"Guess you'll be pretty famous now, Master Swiftstrings."
Matt was halfway out the door in a second, glancing over his shoulder for some parting words.
"Unfortunately, yeah. But good luck to anybody trying to find me. If you need me, pass me a Sending, Steward."
The door shut behind Master Swiftstrings with a gentle click. Steward fell back into his chair with his third sigh of the day, and the deepest thus far. Then he began to chuckle. Somebody had to do the Rising Fire's paperwork. It was not always fun, but Steward was good at it. He was glad they were alive. With a satisfied groan Steward returned to his paperwork.