[center] [h3] ~|Meeting with the High King|~[/h3] Location: Nyhem Time: Present Day, Afternoon By: [@TheDuncanMorgan] & [@Fallenreaper][/center] [hr] The next day’s morning caused both Dyril and Kiseo to engage into a bustle of activity. The first order of business was to removed all the wares from the ship into a storage building and finally pay the captain the rest of his funds for his services. When the money exchange was over, he would set sail and return to the dangerous sea for his next employer. The realization of how much Dyril missed Captain Brys weighed on her a bit as she began to count out coin to pay Horus. Both men were very different from each other. One young and trusting while the other was aged and cautious, the latter practicing traits she had noted in many Elven politicians. In fact the fashion he held him had been comparable to her grandfather. It was unsettling to see such common aspects in another individual not apart of her race causing her to to focus on her counting of coin. Meanwhile, Kiseo directed the sailors to carefully remove the goods into a nearby wagon. Many knew it would likely be the last time they would see her. They joked and poked the small feline with insulting jests while they worked, taking her cautious words into account during their work over the items. Having handled these mysterious wares, mostly enchanted accessories, mandrake oil and very few seeds, they were willing to bend their pride to prevent paying for any expensive damages. If it wasn't for her otherworldly features, the Mao might’ve blended well into the motley crew as one of their own. Unknown to Dyril, a messenger had boarded the ship. He had been tasked by the king to seek out the elf who was doing business with the new magisterial advisor. It wasn’t a particularly hard task, after all the elf stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sailors. “Excuse me, Lady Eilan?” Though he spoke as if it were a question, it was pretty obvious she couldn’t be anyone else. “I have a letter for you from the High King himself” He said as he handed the letter over. Though he tried his best not to stare he couldn’t avert his eyes away from her. This was the first elf he had ever seen, and she wasn’t what he had imagined. Dyril had finished her counting then turned her attention to the new arrival, noticing the messenger for the first time.Her eyes took him in for several seconds then nodded, “Yes, I am.” She cautiously took the letter and ignored the stares burrowing into her from the young man. Mentally, she prepared herself for this and expected it. Her fingers carefully peeled away the letter’s upper flap then began to read the letter’s contents. Silent shot through her upon noting the signature as a coldness began to swell within her, a mixture of fury and pain surged into her. However, on the outside she appeared to taking in the words and debating her options. Several moments passed before she turned to the messenger then spoke, “Tell the High King I will arrive within the allotted time and with a few select wares to demonstrate.” [hr] Duncan was once again sat behind his desk. He was currently reviewing the various documents that had been sent to him by Asgher Raudhfell. All of them confirming the same thing; that Urd was indeed his niece. If Duncan received confirmation from Patrick then the legitimacy of Urd’s claim would be certain. However Duncan was already certain as the situation stood already. There was a knock at the door and Alenius walked in. “Excuse me your grace, but the elven noble you enquired after has arrived”. “Very good, show her in” Duncan said as he put the documents to one side. Dyril had decided on three items out of her stock, namely ones she was confident would draw the High King’s attention and prove magical items were worth investing in. She couldn’t waste this chance. The moment her grandfather discovered the Maltzoff were no longer able to supply the dwarven metal, he would end any future business transactions with Formaroth. Including her. It would trap her permanently within her family’s cruelty and she wasn’t about to allow that to happen. Nervously she fought the desire to pace during her wait. Her eyes absorbing the surroundings and decoration so foreign to the more Elven setting she was use to. Her eyes snapped up at the servant gesturing for her to come as she stepped forward, Kiseo in her wake and holding the trinkets in her paw like hands. Her figure calmly edged into what appeared to be an office, her hands folded in front of her. Wasting little time, she bowed at the waist and greeted the High Lord, “High King Duncan, I assume?” She used a cautious and questioning tone, through she was fairly confident this man was the High King from the Magister’s illusions. Dyril straightened back up. Her attention, momentarily, shifted back to her peripheral vision and noted Kiseo had mimicked her. “Welcome” Duncan said with a fake smile. Though he kept up the pretense of being friendly, the truth was he didn’t like elves. They always had a smug and arrogant attitude to them, and whenever he had been forced to do dealings with them in the past, they had always acted as if they were above him. The creature besides Dyril was completely alien to him, it looked like a feline of some sort and was obviously a slave of Dyril. “From what I gather you have a demonstration that you believe will be worth my time?” Dyril was no stranger to hidden disgust. It was obvious in the High King’s tone, despite the sugar coated words, as it was in her own family. Her eyes inwardly flinched in realization she was at a disadvantage even before this demonstration had began. Such behavior, even sugar coated, didn’t escape her since birth as she faced them head on throughout her life and well into her adult years. Setting her growing anxieties to the side, she continued to rein in her emotional stress and continue like nothing was out of the ordinary. Continuing to push her best face forward, there seemed to be no altering in her expression upon realizing the facts. She inwardly hoped the High King’s opinion would change over the course of her demonstration, but it was a fragile one. “Yes,” Dyril answered then moved toward Kiseo. Her four digit hand reached for the nearest item: a small travel [url=https://orig01.deviantart.net/d1d1/f/2013/173/c/b/leather_belt_pouch_by_i_tavaron_i-d6a4cjx.jpg]pouch[/url]. It looked average and about the size of any expected coin pouch, its size big enough to hold a week’s worth of money at best. The leather was well made with tints of blue, giving a rich appearance, showing the animal hide wasn’t native to Formaroth. Several sharp flourishes darted along in a flowing pattern and filled in by a silverish metal, adding an elegant contrast and beauty. Dyril began to then walk back toward toward High King Duncan. She extended the item in her hands toward and spoke again. “Would you be so kind to examine this item before I display it’s qualities,” When he took the item, she withdrew her hand and made careful attempt to avoid any skin contact with him in the most natural way. As Duncan took the pouch he closely examined it. Undeniably is was of a very beautiful design, but entirely normal. Once he had finished he gave it back to Dyril “Very well, show me what it’s capable of” said Duncan, so far he remained unimpressed. “Apologies for the inconvenience but what I’m about to show, many individuals have believed to be a parlor trick rather than magic. I assure you, it’s not some trick,” Dyril continued. She opened the lip of the pouch and reached into it, her arm pushed casually into it. A simple word escaped her lips in a soft tone, “Videtur.” Her mind imagined the item she wanted to withdraw. In truth, there was several inside but she chose only to show one: a simple walking staff. When it began to materialize after a few seconds, she began to tug it out. The wooden, sanded end slowly pulled outward and instead of it stopping, the item continued until a full length staff stood within Dyril’s grip. She passed it to Kiseo, who needed no gesture, and promptly brought the staff for Duncan to examine if he chose to. As Duncan took the staff his eyes slightly widened, though he hid it he had to admit he was impressed. Such magic had never been performed in his presence before and the capabilities of said magic would be very useful. “Very impressive, tell me how is such magic possible?” “It’s created though a very complicated and lengthy process, which also includes a mage to cast the magical effect and mandrake oil. This particular item took about seven years to create,” Dyril treaded carefully over her words then offered the bag once more to Duncan. “Would you like to learn how to work it and try it yourself by placing the staff back in?” Duncan’s smile dropped a bit at the mention of how long the process took. Seven years was a long time and Duncan wondered if all such ‘Mandrake items’ took just as long. “What else can Mandrake oil be used for” Duncan said as he carefully put the staff into the pouch, to watch something so big effortlessly disappear into something far smaller was a surreal feeling. Before Dyril addressed the question, she instructed the High King in how to activate the bag. Else he would rip and damage it, “Say the word, Abscondit. Then insert the staff. When you want to withdraw it, imagine the staff then say Videtur. Otherwise, you'll damage the merchandise your Majesty.” When she finished, Dyril moved quickly forward. “Mandrake oil is primarily used for creating magical items, purely because of its properties and ability to mimic and absorb spells. You don't even have to know magic to be able to use it. Other uses are mostly either health benefits or superstition, the latter I have little information over due to my lack of faith.” She paused to take a breath, “The health benefits, unless combined with magic, are very minor. It can extend a creature’s life span by one or two years at best.” It was clear, due to her heritage, she didn't see the extra year or two to be worth it. Her tone even seemed to show it, “I have a restoration necklace I would like to demonstrate if you have a plant or creature who is nearing death?” Despite Dyril’s dismissive tone Duncan was intrigued by the potential two year increase in life. Afterall there was a lot a man could accomplish in two years. “Perhaps” Duncan said as he called for a servant. Upon hearing his call two maids walked into the room before bowing “Please fetch one of the dying plants from the keeps garden, anyone will do” Both maids bowed again and left. They wouldn’t have much trouble finding a dead plant, now that Auerlia was gone the entire garden was devoid of life. Perhaps Isabel would find some way to rejuvenate it, though now she would have to wait till next spring. Duncan and Dyril waited in silence, there wasn’t really anything he cared to discuss. Instead he choose to read a letter that he had received earlier in the day, one from a very unlikely source; Uzgob. As Duncan read the letter a smile grew on his face, it would seem that honor in Uzgob didn’t run as deeply as Andrew claimed. This would surely be the end of the alliance. The maids returned shortly after he finished the letter, each carrying their own plant. Strangely, as far as Duncan could tell both plants originated from quite far into the flowerbed, and both were much bigger than he had expected. Furthermore both of them were covered in dirt; what on earth had happened? Had they tried to outcompete each other for the king's favour? He pointed over to a table near Dyril. “Um, just put them down over there” he said a slight hint of surprise in his voice. Both maids did as they were told before bowing again and leaving the room. Dyril had to stop her eyes from rolling at the women’s reaction and obvious display of trying to gain the high king’s attention. Her hand extended toward Kiseo who then placed a small, simple necklace within it. A bright, yellow ember flickered and glowed within. It seemed to be collecting energy as she approached the first dead plant. Her hand extended and touched the nearest leave. Her mind focused into the necklace and softly her lips mumbled an incantation. Unlike the prior item, it required a much more complicated system of words to operate. As the ember jewelry glowed brighter, her skin bumped. The goosebumps danced and sprung up from the energy rupturing through her veins. As she forced herself to relax, her eyes watched her target closely. The leaves become greener, its stem rose higher, and obvious signs of life pour back into it. When finished, she retracted her hand for Duncan to see. She expected he would’ve liked another demonstration but she wasn’t going to automatically volunteer one. “A most impressive display” Duncan said joyfully, after reading the letter his mood had greatly improved “Tell me, what are the requirements for growing Mandrakes, does Formaroth have the correct climate? Is there a particular technique” After the demonstration and the various benefits that Dyril had described to him, the more convinced he was that this was a worthwhile investment. Dyril relaxed. She was thankful that the High King didn’t request another demonstration of the necklace, her body slightly weakened and drained from the first. Some artifacts had a price or took their toll on individuals. Kiseo quickly stepped up to her mistress as Dyril passed over the necklace, removing it from her hand and dripped it into the paw like hand. Kiseo then moved back to allow the pair to have their conversation. The mood improvement wasn’t lost on Dyril, but knowing if she acknowledged it might lead to her present advantage being taken away. “I’ve just arrived so knowing for sure is difficult. I originally came to establish trading negotiations with a family native to Formaroth, but I received word they will not be coming. It places me into a position to find new buyers or determine if trade with Formaroth is profitable again,” Dyril explained, careful over what details she revealed. She was still very aware about her family being on the opposition of Duncan and any slip that indicated she was with them could’ve resulted in something terrible. She decided to focus on the price such a journey would require and answer the High King’s question honestly as she could, “As for the techniques, Mandrakes are very delicate plants. One wrong thing, either weather or neglective care, and you’ll lose not one but the whole crop. The most important areas used to grow Mandrakes are very arid and desert like climate.” “I see” Duncan said “So what is it that you wish to offer?” “Officially, I’m only authorized by my family to peddle items of magical nature and premade mandrake oil,” Dyril began as she stood comfortably nearby, her eyes studied Duncan for any indication her words were unappealing to him. Now would be ideal time to determine what would he would be willing to fund at this point or make any additions to the prior negotiations that would allow her to remain in Formaroth. “A thing to note is these terms were in regards to the old trade negotiations and now are subject to change based on what gains are available and will benefit the [i]family[/i]. Things I’m in position to determine,” Her tone shifted at the word family, mostly a subtle slip that there was slight tension. Even more that if they suffered a slight loss for a gain, it wouldn’t necessarily hurt her heart as long it didn’t backfire upon her personally. Duncan remained silent for some time as he considered his options. Mandrake oil could turn out to be a huge boon to the advancement of magic here in Formaroth, yet having it constantly shipped over from the imperium would likely turn out to be very expensive, he would have to try and convince Dyril to grow and sell it here in Formaroth. “I have a proposition for you, you will give me the means to grow Mandrakes here in Formaroth, in return I will pay you well for your services and even grant you the title of a comte here in Nyhem. This new title should give you higher political standing here in Formaroth. A fair deal wouldn’t you say”? “The deal is fair but as you learn more about Mandrakes, it will become clear this project can’t be ran by an ignorant individual. Not without it becoming costly. Seeds are only produced from fully mature and healthy Mandrakes. I was serious when I said one mistake can cost the whole crop, including the crop’s lineage and future planting,” Dyril stated firmly. No seeds meant no future plants and every farmer knew this could easily bankrupt their livelihood. Hoping to place herself into a much higher valued position, the half elf decided to offer an additional term to the agreement. “Both myself and Kiseo has grown up around the method all of our lives so we know it inside and out, making us the most experienced in Formaroth. For the best possibility at success, we will need to supervise and teach anyone under your employment the correct care and harvesting methods,” she pointed out. She doubted Duncan would ‘purchase’ slaves, even when they would become free the moment they hit Formaroth, to ensure his crops would thrive to their fullest. Her culture valued slaves with unique skills which increased both their master’s status and income options, the freeing of such slaves only served to harm that. “Most Mandrake slaves are raised and trained from their coming of age. We don’t have that easy option. This means you need to purchase surplus in case of crop failure and risk this becoming costly in the beginning, but the benefits will gradually overcome when done right.” “Done” Duncan said without hesitation. Having Dyril watch over this was the best possible scenario, if he was going to invest in Mandrakes he didn’t want the money to go to waste by having an amateur ruin the crop. Furthermore if something went wrong the blame could be placed solely on her, meaning he could demand full compensation should his investment backfire “I will purchase your full stock, I trust that will be enough. My sister, Lady Isabel De Reimer will oversee the transaction” Duncan paused for a moment as he started to consider something “Out of interest, which family was it that you originally planned to do business with. To buy such a expensive product in such large amounts, they must've been quite rich”? Dyril knew what she was getting into, or rather who would suffer the most if things went wrong. It was partly spite at her family for the past struggles they forced her to endure throughout her life. “Not precisely, but wealth helps. It is more what my family could’ve gained from being associated with them. I don’t find it matters much now because s far as I’m concerned, their business with me is finished,” Dyril commented, avoiding mentioning the name of Mazeltof. She didn’t want Duncan to become too suspicious over her and assume she knew more than she claimed. “Is there anything else you require?” “Nothing relating to business, although something has peaked my interest that I wish to enquire” Duncan said. Something about Dyril stood out to him, while he had only met a handful of elves in his life they all had a distinct and similar appearance. There were several characteristics to Dyril that were noticeably different. “I notice your hands are different to most other elves, could you explain to be why this is”? While Duncan acknowledged that the question had come out of nowhere he was curious to see how an elf would deal with such a sudden personal question, if only for his own amusement. “My family would’ve insisted I claim a defect from birth, and in a way it is. I’m actually a hybrid. My mother was eleven but my father was human,” Dyril explained as she held up her hand for Duncan to fully see. She spread her fingers through the middle two didn’t spread from their neighbors despite her attempts before she pulled it back to her side. “I get the impression, from personal experience, that you’ve had the experience of being in the presence of a few ‘superior’ elves? I’ll reassure you, it’s much worse when you actually live with them. You can likely imagine what they thought of me.” Duncan was surprised by Dyril’s seemingly willingness to discuss her heritage. Most Elves got very touchy whenever you asked anything even vaguely personal, though as Dyril pointed out, she was only half Elven. “I see, I was unaware such hybrids existed. I thank you for your honesty and I look forward to doing future business with you” “As do I. I was primary chosen as my family believed having someone on ‘equal’ footing with those in Formaroth would allow them to relax and be more open to our trading negotiations. I accepted mainly to escape a situation,” Dyril admitted openly. She saw no reason to lie about her motivations or what she was, at least not while here. The logic was sound based on what she told Duncan earlier because back in the Elven lands, her life was nothing but hell. One bit, however, she didn’t reveal was the fact the family felt it was beneath them to even attempt trading negotiations with humans. “Very well, my bodyguard Alenius will be waiting outside. She will guide you back to the keep's entrance” Duncan said. Dyril nodded, then gestured for Kiseo to follow her to the exit. The Mao nodded and adjusted the bag slightly, briefly pausing to ensure all of the items were within the single bag, before she quickly caught up to her mistress. Her tail was mindful to keep wrapped about her leg when she passed the High king in order to avoid accidently swatting at him and causing insult.