[center][h2][color=b5a0d2]Steffen Gravinir[/color][/h2] & [color=goldenrod][i][h2]Gerard Segremors[/h2][/i][/color][/center][hr] [i]Some time[/i] Today, the Ingvarr’s office was bustling with activities. Not the serious kind though. An intense battle raged between two warriors, one a senior of the Iron Roses, Red Flag grizzly veteran, well-versed in many battle tactics and strategies, while the other a fearsome warrior of the north in a rather conservative Thaln outfit. Both were unrelenting, fighting for every bit and piece of the other, before a grand audience of nobody. For a while, they didn’t feel the need to speak, [i]the chess speaks for itself[/i]. “Can’t believe you’re getting away playing like this.” The older knight, Katte, finally broke the silence, after realizing he couldn’t play for a win. He brushed his white hairs back over his forehead, a long sigh relieved the tension of the match, reminding himself that the person on the other end was still his friend. [color=b5a0d2]”It only worked with me a time or two, old man.”[/color] Steffen laughed, extended a handshake and was received. “Just you wait, Steffy-boy, I’ll get my repertoire sorted out and I’ll get back at you.” [color=b5a0d2]”Always keep your mind sharp old man.”[/color] Smirked the Ingvarr, as they both assembled their pieces back to its starting setup. It was at this time that a knock on his office door brought about his attention that he was still in the middle of a work day. People still wanted his expertise. [color=b5a0d2]”Come in.”[/color] The handle turned steadily, normally— not flying through it’s threshold for load at the end of a boot as it had oftentimes seen prior, by the looks of things. Who the hell did they keep around who’d do that? [color=goldenrod]“Hey, you got a minute? I was gonna bug Renar, but he’s ou—”[/color] Amber eyes blinked as they registered the unexpected scene before them, connected to a certain nonplussed ex-mercenary that the room had never hosted before now. A beat hung in the air for a moment, as Gerard seemed to weigh his options… [color=goldenrod]“My bad. Afternoon, Sir Steffen, Sir Katte.”[/color] And went with an inclined head, nodding to each man in turn as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, burying his urge to glance back at the squeak of the hinges. He’d been about to turn on his heel and leave them to their business, following his first instincts, but if the Ingvarr would humor the interruption he’d take him at his word. [color=goldenrod]“Game of kings, huh?”[/color] he noted, scanning the pieces and remembering little of how they moved. Symmetrical as they were, he hazarded a guess that he’d either caught the end or the start of a match. [color=goldenrod]“Who’s winning?”[/color] “Oh?” Katte turned around and gave Gerard a classy bow. “It is indeed. Our scores are still neck and neck. Somehow…” The old knight shot a sharp glance at Steffen, who smirked in return. “This guy keeps pulling hogwash out of thin air and survives.” [color=b5a0d2]”Hey, if you can’t exploit your advantages, it means nothing.”[/color] The Ingvarr gave a rare gloat, but from the tone of it, he was on the playful side. [color=b5a0d2]”Anyway, same time this weekend, I presume? Also tell Frederick to come as well. I haven’t seen him in a while.”[/color] “I sure will.” Katte stood up slowly, looking at Gerard like any kind old grandparent and bowed again. “I apologize for impeding your visit. If you need me, I will be in my quarter.” [color=b5a0d2]”Sorry about that, some old folks around here wanted company.”[/color] Mostly through entertainment like board games, but sometimes through some heart-to-heart chat. Especially Katte himself. [color=b5a0d2]”Anyway, what’s up? What wind brings you to this boring little corner over here?”[/color] Gerard stepped aside for a moment to let the senior knight pass, giving him a deferential inclination of the head and a word of apology before bringing his full attention back to bear on his larger comrade. To business. [color=goldenrod]“Financials. I’ve gathered yourself and Sir Renar are the ones that have been shouldering most of the Order knuckleheads’ bookkeeping, pro-bono or otherwise.”[/color] the blunt affect did nothing to hide the implication of Gerard being one of the aforementioned. He had his delusions, as all young men did, but he knew himself. [color=goldenrod]“Since I haven’t been devoting much attention to my pay lately, I figured I’d stop by and get a handle on where things stand— [i]before[/i] I go putting in any special orders from the Armory.”[/color] It had been like a vacation, in one sense, letting someone else (presumably) handle the micromanaging after over half a decade of budgeting regiment pay. But he hated owing money, hated interest, and hated anything remotely close to the treacherous realm of “installments”. If he could help it, he’d make whatever expenditures his near future held in store [i]singular and concrete[/i]. [color=goldenrod]“I know Fionn’s been shoving most of that onto Renar rather than you— like I’d been about to say, I’d have sooner bugged him on this, but couldn’t pin him down today.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Haha, good choice. You can say a lot about Renar’s integrity, but when it comes to paperwork and finance, I’d always put my trust in him. At least for us lower knights.”[/color] Steffen also understood that it was also a tight-knit circle that even he had issues getting close to that might influence why they’d rely on him more than the bookworm Ingvarr, but at least from the latter’s perspective, he didn’t see any incentives for Renar to do anything less than a stellar job. [color=b5a0d2]”Anyway, the latest audit came through, I should have the latest copies of your pay. In the meantime, help yourself. Tea, snacks, anything.”[/color] Steffen pointed at the tin teapot and a few rather large mugs before heading to the bookshelf behind him. Being a bookkeeper might seem like a hard task to many people, but it was not as monumental of an achievement. Once again, all you needed was some literacy and proper organization. Going through the shelf lined with notebooks and papers, small pieces of wood wedged a map of names. Steffen’s fingers tapped each of the wood a specific number of times, then seemingly dug out a random notebook, opened it, closed it and returned it back to where he got it from. He repeated one more time before he found the correct book, turning back with a satisfied look. [color=b5a0d2]”Alrighty!”[/color] He flashed a casual smile as he sat back down looking at Gerard, gently putting the notebook opened in front of the lad. [color=b5a0d2]”Here’s what you have right now. What exactly are you intending to purchase?”[/color] [color=goldenrod]“Just a little short.”[/color] Gerard didn’t return the grin, eyes instead narrowing into a pensive frown as he rolled the numeral over in his head against what he understood to be “market value”— there was some allowance for shifts in economy trend going from Velt to Thaln, but whatever he may have had as inroad being a member of the order was doubtless counterweighed by the upmarking that came with quality, with pedigree. He folded his arms as everything came up around the same no matter how he could reasonably twist it, pinning the page with a glare usually reserved for wartime. [color=goldenrod]“Dammit, I’ll have to do installments.”[/color] A moment later, his shoulders went slack and he sighed through the nose, and Sir Steffen would hear his question answered in a grumble, frustrated but fangless. [color=goldenrod]“Armor, mainly. Fighting more mindfully or otherwise, I’ve got to bring my protection up to par by our next sortie.”[/color] he explained, pointing to the fresh scar on his jaw before pinching the bridge of his nose. [color=goldenrod]“Fionn’s already sourced a good quantity of material from that Commander he didn’t get to duel, but Ardor’s not going to cut labor cost just because he likes us, let alone accounting for whatever steel he can’t repurpose…”[/color] A groan. [color=goldenrod]“Reon roast it all, I [i]trust[/i] him, but I hate owing money. I’ll have to eat this.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”So I assume you won’t prefer letting me loan you some.”[/color] Not a very sophisticated guy, but Steffen respected it. After all, owing money was never just the amount, it’s the worries and guilt too of when to repay and constant threat of when that number would spiral out of control. While limiting, he could imagine a much more carefree mindset. If it were normal, he could simply let Gerard figure it out for himself, but considering it’s one of his active comrades, the Ingvarr was down for lending a helping hand. [color=b5a0d2]”Hmm, let me think.”[/color] His fingers tapped on the table repeatedly until, [color=b5a0d2]”You said you’re going to do installments. I may need some help doing that too…well…”[/color] He quickly realized how ludicrous that sounded. An Ingvarr needing physical help, pfft. [color=b5a0d2]”A friend of mine needed it. She’s a veteran of the Red Flag war, and long story short, she’s roped in and now trying her damnest to help her kin in Aimlenn. What she’s up to is a communal house for them.”[/color] He shrugged his shoulders. [color=b5a0d2]”Both me and Sir Katte are invested, but it’s not enough labor, so…”[/color] His wrist rotated before angling towards Gerard in a suggestive manner that shouldn’t escape the lad. And if that wasn’t clear enough. [color=b5a0d2]”What do you think?”[/color] [color=goldenrod]“You’re right. I’m leery of loans too.”[/color] he readily admitted, leveling an even, unflinching gaze onto the northerner. Somewhere within him, he did understand that this was largely idiosyncrasy talking— but that was buried deep beneath a resolutely fostered suspicion of anything that could be less than cut and dry, money leaving his hands for a service or product guaranteed to take its place. He didn’t need it, being so less surrounded by spendthrifts, scammers, and scoundrels as his mercenary days, but crystallized habits never wore down in a day. So although the resolve was welling up within him to grit his teeth and bear multiple charges coming in over the next few months… When Sir Steffen made his offer, the gears shifted all too smoothly in his head. Trading labor for coin was always preferable to a favor— and to be totally fair, he’d been up to much the same with Fionn’s mill for far less. [color=goldenrod]“I’m game. What’s she need, then? Just a workhorse to split the load generally, woodworking, someone to get foundations hammered in?”[/color] On and on. Erecting a building had all number of moving parts that needed tight, effective work to be managed properly— his family home had stood for far longer than any Sagramore that lived, but he and his brother had done their time with refurbishing sheds around their hometown. Carpenters had a guild for a reason. [color=goldenrod]“Additionally, who’ll I be working with? I take it this isn’t someone from the Order.”[/color] He hadn’t dropped a name, after all. [color=b5a0d2]”Excellent. I don’t know specifically, but she doesn’t need actual construction, as she’s trying to reuse the building she lives in, so I would say it’s refurbishment. You should ask her directly when you get there.”[/color] He was more than satisfied that Gerard was fine with the offer so quickly. It’s naturally easier to trust someone you know rather than some bozo out there ready to scam you out of payment. Perhaps a little too professional too. Steffen was trying to be light-hearted about the deal, but it seemed like the young lad took it more as a business deal, nothing more and nothing less. It’s ultimately harmless, but still, a little bit deep down, the Ingvarr wanted to get to know him beyond the cold blades of the battlefield. [color=b5a0d2]”Her name is May. May Delisle. She’s not from the Order, but don’t worry, she’s a sweet woman. But uhh…”[/color] He felt somewhat obliged to let Gerard in on the details. [color=b5a0d2]”She’s a social butterfly, so if she comes off as overly friendly or chatty, even more than this piece of work here, pay her no mind.”[/color] Especially if she knew about Gerard being his colleague knights, which she will, she probably won’t ever shut up about it. [color=b5a0d2]”But on the bright side, I would not mind if you become friends with her. You might be there for business, but nothing hurts coming out of it with that, right?”[/color] He covertly sneaked an advice in. [color=b5a0d2]”As for payment, I can always give that money sooner for Ardor to work on, or if you’d not prefer owing anyone, just complete the work then I’ll imburse you. Any extra work, just let me know I’ll pay extra.”[/color] [color=goldenrod]“I can’t imagine why you would. May Delisle, then.”[/color] he replied with a light shrug of the shoulders, affable enough to mask a growing sprout of confusion as he worked the name over into his memory. Reon bless him, Sir Steffen was quite evidently a man with a keen head for numbers, taking on the thankless task of juggling extra budgetary concerns for others, but… [color=goldenrod][i]I’m pretty sure I’m giving him more questions than answers, if he feels like he needs to nudge me like this. That, or Fionn’s more right about how stiff I come off than I gave him credit for.[/i][/color] [color=goldenrod]“I’m from a farming town, so a little normal friendliness can go a long way compared to all the etiquette I’m trying to properly observe these days— but I’ll have to meet her to find out either way. You said she’s based here in the city. Where about?”[/color] His mental map of the capitol was slowly growing in scope and fidelity as the days passed by into weeks, but all in all it was still far from complete, major points of interest aside. He knew the Spikes, the Palace, Candaeln. The Brass Panther. The Wisp And Wander. He was getting there. He had a while to go yet. He folded his arms, and allowed himself a breath. Let this be another step, then. [color=goldenrod]“And regarding pay… I’d rather take the librans into my own hands. Nothing against the generosity, don’t get me wrong, but Fionn’d already gotten Ardor half the steel before we even broached the idea.”[/color] He cracked a wry smirk. [color=goldenrod]“Can’t be leaning on [i]everyone[/i]. I’d fall over. You can swing by and see the work with your own eyes when I’m finished, if that’d suit you. If not, just go by Miss Delisle’s word.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Hmm. I guess I’ll do whatever suits the moment. I trust her.”[/color] Steffen shrugged his shoulders. [color=b5a0d2]”She’s in the slums. Or rather the guys she wanted to help are themselves from there.”[/color] She didn’t need to do it, but one thing led to another and she’s now stuck with them. But at the very least, there are still attempts to bloom flowers in the barren soil. [color=b5a0d2]”I’ll be writing a letter to her anyway to let her know about your employment. I will include proper directions too. Maybe check in with me in a few hours or later this afternoon, that sounds good for you?”[/color] The Ingvarr said, his hands laid out on the table. [color=b5a0d2]”Other than that, anything else you need me for?”[/color] [color=goldenrod]”No complaints.”[/color] came the easy reply, followed by a shake of the head from the shorter man. He blinked for a moment, his eyes lingering on the board that Sir Katte and the Ingvarr had abandoned upon his unceremonious arrival, the pieces in paired rank like so many soldiers on the field. [color=goldenrod]”Actually, if you’ve got a minute...”[/color] he ventured, indicating the chessboard with a pointed finger. [color=goldenrod]”I never had the chance to learn. Run me through the basics?”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Oh, if you say so…”[/color] Steffen clasped his hands together. It’s been a while since anyone asked for a lesson in the art of the board. This is going to be fun.