“We’d have to trade for all of that,” Usurg says, “I don’t know if anyone would think our furs, our herbs, or the things we make would be valuable enough for that.”
“Leave that bit to me,” Emlyn advises. “I’m probably the best negotiator you have. I’ve had lots of practice at it, even against dwarves. Just give me a list of what you need and how important it is, relatively. We might not be able to get everything in one go, either from the Taig or my Temple, but we should be able to send you home with plenty of things.”
Mentally, Emlyn is preparing a pack train of mules to carry everything and trying to decide whether she wants to ride Jagannath or Snowflake. Still lost in her thoughts, she wanders off idly, inspecting and stooping down to check lower shelves. Emlyn spots something on a bottom shelf that’s been pushed off the back of the shelf. Moving things around, she tries to reach it but can’t quite. To Oso’s amusement, her solution is to wriggle further onto the shelf. The box is stuck, so Emlyn proceeds to wriggle into the shelving until she can reach the box and get a good grip on it.
The box itself is old and wooden with some markings on the lid she can’t quite decipher in the dim light and dust. She’s wriggling and tugging, trying to release it when she hears Atres calling her. At this point, only her feet are still sticking out.
Laughing, Oso calls for Atres, “We’re over here. I think she might be stuck in the shelves.”
Atres walks up, followed by Argonath, to see Emlyn’s boots hanging over the edge of the shelf and grins. “Fy lleidr bach, are you stuck?”
“No,” Emlyn calls back, “but this box is.”
Argonath looks on amused by watching her struggling with the wedged-in box before coughing politely, “The prince and the exchequer would like to see you, if you can spare a few moments from smiting our dust bunnies.”
Emlyn mumbles something and gives the box one last big pull. The box comes loose, but Emlyn smacks her head on the shelf above, hard enough to make Atres wince in sympathy as she spews a stream of invective in her native language before ending with, “Ffwrch! Sy’n brifo! (That hurts!).”
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Working her way back out of the shelves with her prize, Emlyn mumbles a prayer and heals herself.
The box appears to be quite old and has been stuck between the shelves for a long time. The wood is dry, cracking, and starting to buckle. The sides of the box and the lid are bowed, the hinges are bent, and so is the latch. Emlyn inhales sharply and blows the dust off the lid to see what’s been carved into the top of it. It’s a triskele made of knotwork crows, one of Morrighu’s symbols.
Atres eyes it critically, “I don’t think we’ll be getting that open any time soon. It’s going to take some tools and a bit of effort to get that lid off.”
Frowning, Emlyn hands her prize over to Atres as Atres pulls her to her feet.
“I’m not dressed to see the prince,” Emlyn says, “I should probably go back to the inn and change.”
“He knows that you’re here, poking around,” Argonath shrugs, “I doubt he expects to see you in court dress.”
Atres whips out his handkerchief and wipes the dust off her face, and quickly dusts the rest of her off.
“There, fy lleidr bach.” Atres grins, “Good as new, other than almost braining yourself. You have to be more careful, lass.”
Giving Atres a momentary annoyed glare, she looks at Argonath, “Lead on.”
Atres chuckles and tucks the box under one arm while offering Emlyn the other. Everyone files out, and soon enough, Emlyn finds herself ensconced in the exchequer’s office. Prince Armeniel greets her from where he’s co-opted Ewald’s office chair while Ewald stands a bit behind the prince.
Armeniel nods at Atres, “It’s good to see you again. I hope all is well?”
Atres places a hand on Emlyn’s shoulder, “Better than I expected, Your Highness.”
Armeniel takes in Atres’s momentary possessiveness of Emlyn and nods, “I’m glad to hear it, Guardsman.”
Turning to Emlyn, Armeniel grins at Emlyn, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we wanted to see if our grand idea might be something your Temple would ever consider. We believe it would serve as a solution to several of the issues you’re currently facing with the expansion, as well as a few of our own. Now, down to business. Ewald and I have a proposal for you that might not be quite what you were expecting, but I think if you hear us out, it could be extremely beneficial to everyone.”
Ewald drops the rolled-up sheaf of papers and parchments he’s had tucked under his arm onto the desk and unrolls them. He deftly positions some weights to hold them in place and steps back with a bow.
Armeniel points to an area, slightly north of where the Temple is located, that’s right next to the city wall. “The crown holds this area. There are no buildings on it. If we were to move your Temple here, we’d be able to move the city wall out. We could locate the foundry operations here and the glass-making operations next to that, allowing you to harness the river without displacing any of the existing neighborhoods. The potion-making operations would go here, next to the living quarters. The crown also has extensive holdings outside the walls of the city, just past where we’d put the new gate, which would allow you to expand the stables, virtually to your heart’s content.”
“What do you get out of this?” Emlyn asks.
“We can take the area where your Temple is located now and redevelop it into better housing and shops. We have a section of the city wall that needs to be torn down and rebuilt, regardless. This allows us to build around it first and tear it down later. The foundry, glass making, and potion making operations are all vastly oversized so that both the Crown and the King’s Guard can make use of them until your Temple is ready to occupy them fully. The Royal Stables would like access to some of your breeding stock and to be co-located with you, since the Royal Stables are currently feeling a bit of strain and rather infatuated with many of your recent finds.”
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The Dotara Negotiator: Emlyn officially takes charge of the trade deals for Atres’s village. She’s planning pack trains, Speaking Stones, and mages—all while reminding the cousins that she’s the best negotiator they’ve got.
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The Crow’s Prize: Emlyn finds an ancient wooden box marked with a triskele of crows—the symbol of Morrighu. It’s bowed, cracked, and stuck, but she treats it like a holy relic (which it probably is).
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The Royal Proposal: Prince Armeniel and the Exchequer, Ewald, drop a massive plan on Emlyn. They want to move the entire Temple!
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The Trade: The Crown gets the old Temple land for redevelopment.
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The Gain: The Temple gets a massive, empty plot near the wall with river access for foundries, glass-making, and potion-making.
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The Bonus: The Royal Stables want to co-locate with them because they’ve got a "crush" on Emlyn’s fancy breeding stock.
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The Tall Obstacle Rating: 5/5 Tankards.
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Review: He’s reached peak "Supportive Fiancé" levels. He calls her "fy lleidr bach" (my little thief), cleans the dust off her face with his own handkerchief, and carries her heavy, mysterious box while offering her his arm to see the Prince. The lad is smooth, I’ll give him that.
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Oso, Usurg, and Rilgi: They got a front-row seat to "General Emlyn: The Shelf-Wriggler Edition." They’re learning that if Nia wants something, not even a solid oak shelf can stop her.
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Review: He showed a bit of "momentary possessiveness" in front of the Prince, which Armeniel definitely noticed. It’s good to see him marking his territory, even if his "territory" is a woman who can kill him with a dinner fork.
A new Temple, a mysterious box, and a Prince with a plan. Things are moving faster than a dwarf down a greased slide! Shall we see what's inside that box, or should I go help Atres find a pry-bar?
the Discord via this invite link.