Sunset: 1755
- No Greyhawk Events today
Finishing Guild Business
The next morning, Tar wakes up refreshed and momentarily disoriented, though he quickly remembers where he is. Loud rumbling noises from his stomach give warning that breakfast is due, and realizing that he has not yet had the opportunity to stock the larder, he decides to look around the local area to find a good place to eat breakfast. The neighborhood is largely residential, but a very nice, low-key restaurant is not too far away. And even better, from Tar’s point of view, is the fact that in this area they are used to dealing with knights and minor nobles. Many of the cities lower-upper class live in this area, so although the service and the food are both excellent, he is not fawned upon. With that excellent start to the day behind him, he decides to head to Lord Aphic’s, intending to spend a couple of hours at the menagerie.
He has not been long at work, which this morning consists of changing the dressing on a wounded lion’s head (the prospective poacher didn’t fare nearly as well, Pantien (one of Lord Aphic’s junior animal handlers) assures him with a smile, when the Baron finds him.
Lord Aphic:
Ah, Sir Tar! A glorious morning. I see that a title has not sapped your preference for hard work. Excellent. ... No, no, do not stand. I can see you are busy.
Tar bows his head slightly as he continues with the lion. He muses briefly that when Lord Aphic says it, the title doesn’t sound bad at all. Sometimes, when others use it, he feels like an imposter, or that he’s being made fun of. Not so when the Baron gives it voice.
Tar:
Ani’als wiw always be a love. Besides I haf a job here.
Lord Aphic:
I understand completely, believe me. Unfortunately, Sir Tar, the job will have to go to another. Though you are naturally free to come and go as you please, the responsibility for looking after the animals must now pass to another. You must seek duties more befitting your station.
Tar grunts:
I suppose id is so. I wiw dalk to da Guil’ King aboud my replacemen’. I suppose I feel a liddle los’ righ’ now.
He finishes with the lion, mentally sends it the thought to roll on it’s belly for a scratch, and gently pushes it’s side. As it lays down, he rubs its belly, pats it once, and then stands up.
Lord Aphic shakes his head, amazed as always at Tar’s way with animals:
My gain is very much the Guild’s loss. Keuoren will feel that loss most keenly, I am sure.
Tar:
I hope doo make id up to him.
Lord Aphic:
I am sure you will. And what of the others? Are they ready to begin their new lives?
Tar:
I fink we’re aw ready. Wew, esspet for Ya’inari. I’m soor he’s ready for seferal monfs off!
Lord Aphic laughs:
I see you have an eye for human talents as well as animal, Sir Tar! If you are free this evening, it would give me great pleasure to entertain you all at my estate this evening. Around 8:00? Would you be good enough to spread the word amongst your compatriots?
Tar:
I wiw spread da word. Id will be splendid. ahhh …. are we .. uh … de onwy guests?
Lord Aphic:
I had a small gathering in mind. No more than, say, 30 or 40 guests in all.
Tar:
Ah, gread. Formal attire, I esspect?
Lord Aphic smiles not unkindly:
I remember warning you that there would be much for you to learn. Amongst your peers, Sir Tar, there is no such thing as formal attire. Dressing for dinner is assumed.
Tar nods:
Dressing for dinner, then it is.
Lord Aphic:
Sir Tar, I look forward to seeing you tonight. In the meantime, bide well.
Tar nods:
And da gods wif you.
Once again, Tar returns to the guild where he convinces Hathori, after some initial bowing and scraping, to take him to Keuoren. Hathori heads to Keuoren’s private office, and knocks on the door. The Guildmaster opens the door himself nearly immediately—He must be up and pacing again— thinks Tar.
Keuoren:
Ah, Master Tar. Welcome, as always. Thank you, Hathori.
Tar:
Yez, dank yoo Hafori.
Hathori looks surprised briefly, then bows again, twice, at which Keuoren shakes his head and gently closes the door.
Keuoren:
I can’t seem to get him to stop doing that.
Tar:
An’ I suspec’ yoo won’t. Ah, I suppose we nee’ more like Hafori. Wad troubles yoo, Master Keoren.
Keuoren:
Oh, the usual. Too little money. Too many bills. Too few Masters. Too few Apprentices. ... The troubles of a poor guild do not turn on the end of an election.
Tar:
Hmmm …. Yea, I can see dat. I haf also foun’ dat infor’ation often brin’s power. Haf yoo fought of my offer las’ nigh?
Keuoren:
I have. Without further discussion, I would like to accept your offer. What is our part in your little arrangement? [By “our”, Tar understands that Keuoren is referring to the Guild.]
Tar:
Vewy goo’. Ass yoo are pro’aly aware, I wiw be leafin da cidee or in places where I canno’ reseeve da info’mashun. I wiw nee’ someun doo collec’ it. Unforuna’tly I haf no one doo trus’ wif dis. I don’ min’ yoo receifin’ da informashun first. I wass dinkin’ dat Cry’ or … maybe Ply’sen coul’ fin’ a goo’ person to receif da informashun and act as our conduid.
Keuoren thinks deeply for a few moments:
I believe that would be acceptable. I will need to know the specifics – how the information is to be passed — oh, strictly verbally, obviously, but where and when, and by whom.
Tar smiles:
Esselend. I nee’ da same ding! [He chuckles.] I wass kinda hopin’ dat de owner off da process wood del me dat information. In ofer wor’s, yoor choice. I haf undil domorrow to dell my condac where an who doo meet. I wass dinkin’ dat we haf people all ofer da cidee. Having a different person on da same corner efery week wood be easy. If dey are as’irants, den noone wiw know dem.
Keuoren:
Don’t worry, Master Tar. I will handle the logistics from this end. When you have it, we need the information about the other end. We also need to know how and when to pass the information to you.
Tar:
I wiw dink abou’ dat, but I fink I may come here. See yoo, perhaps see ofers.
Keuoren:
I believe that would be simplest. It will also be believable. There is no reason for anyone to be suspicious of your continuing to come here, even after your elevation.
Tar:
My doughts essatly. Sounds like a grea’ way to share a cup o’ dea.
Keuoren:
When you have more information as to the relayer of this information, you must return. Until then, I must excuse myself. I am frightfully busy.
Tar:
Ah, Master Keureon, two more dings. Lor’ Aphic iss in nee’ of a replacemen for me and I’m stiw in need of a stewar’...when yoo haf time, dat iss.
Keuoren:
Fortunately, both of those items have already been dealt with. I have already chosen a new Master for Lord Aphic. Do you know Master Nellox? [Tar shakes head.] Ah. Good man. He’ll be taking your place this afternoon. As for a Steward, I have selected Lann of Ahlissa. He’s been associated with the Guild for nearly a decade. I have complete confidence in him.
Tar bows:
I fang yoo deeply. Where wood I fin’ Lann?
Keuoren:
I will send him over to your house. Best that he become familiar with it while you are still in town. What time is convenient for you?
Tar:
I wiw be ad da Lor’ Mayor’s tonigh’ for dinner. How about 5:00 tonigh?
Keuoren:
Expect him promptly at 5:00. Lann is a very punctual man.
Tar bows as he backs out of the room:
Fang yoo again. I hope dat da guil’d fortunes increase quickwy.
Keuoren:
With Lord Aphic in charge, they will definitely improve. How much — and how quickly — remains to be seen. I thank you for your good wishes. Good day, Tar. Drop in to see me at any time.
Tar nods and leaves.