A Cautionary Tale

There are many that describe routine as dull I know this because I have unfortunately heard them drone on about it on more than one occasion, personally I have always found routine to be a source of settling comfort, for it leaves little room for surprise or error.
I mention this due to the fact that over the last couple of hands, the settling comfort that I have come to rely upon has been altered, I am not sure what is to be gained from avoidance, yet it is the path I have chosen when it comes to weekly review of my business ledgers. I simply don't wish to be reminded of the documented truth that seems to only grow worse with each passing day. The salt I had previously acquired, dwindles, normally steady flow of customers following suit. The majority taking the path that I have concerning my finances and simply began avoiding me, sending their slaves into the bakery with word of their canceled orders. I desperately want to publicly threaten lash out at them, demanding they take notice of what they not only doing to me.
I want to blame them. I need to blame them.
Yet I can not. They are simply attempting to survive, just like me.
It is not their fault, what is however their fault is the blind compliance that now seems to rule supreme.
I don't understand this mentality.
There are many things I don't understand.
The dark inner turmoil I feel has made one thing abundantly clear, I miss the Poet.
I find it difficult to clearly sum up my feelings concerning him, I only know that I trust his judgement and respect his opinions.
I would like to speak to him before I proceed with my scheduled meeting at the 'Bactorae Loan Offices,' in regards to selling my Inn.

I paused in order to review that last couple of lines for I am compelled to remove the private admission.
I will leave it as a personal reminder that am not as strong as I would like to believe.
______

I am not certain that amount of time that passed, I only know that it was the sound of Savana's voice that broke my concentration.

"I ran into Szol again today, he asked about you. Have younot gone to visit him yet? You really should." Turning back to the displaycase of goods, she feigned interest in them. "It appears he has enslavedNoemi. Yes, enslaved the little trollop. She was in shackles at theSquare today. He back handed her for mouthing off and everything."
Savana smiled.

Previous thoughts rapidly vanquished replaced by a shared smile, one immediately borne from smug satisfaction.
I had after predicted her downfall, publicly in fact.
I shouldn't have been surprised.
And truthfully I am not.

Soon after they both departed my initial response changed as the truth sunk in. The victorious smile I wore so proudly slowly fading replaced by something I still find difficult to accurately describe. In no way do I compare myself to the former Free Woman, the only common thread that bound us together was our statues beyond that I found her completely and utterly insufferable not to mention tragically transparent.
The surge of victory, overshadowed as I am reminded of my own vulnerability.

The celebration of the just remains elusive.

To Thine Own Self

It was with a practiced hand that I caught myself before I would be completely devoured.
The invisible mourning cloak has been burned, unemotional barricades successfully reinforced, content with the secondhand knowledge that the Poet has been discharged from the clinic, cleaned to resume his normal schedule in the process allowing me the same.

This morning I dispatched crumb to deliver a scroll to, Claudius Marselius, proprietor of the 'House of Three Swords'. The requested meeting purposely delayed in light of everything that has recently transpired, not wishing to exposure of my own culpability in the salt shortage. I do so now only because I do not wish Savana to remind of the owned favor, our involvement even casually would prove hard to explain. The carefully worded scroll of introduction has yet to warrant a reply.
I continue to remain hopeful that it will provide me the needed access, if not I will be forced to seek out another alternative.

Tynan has safely returned to the City. The better part of yesterday spent at the Warriors Academy, assisting in his registration. Once the necessary paperwork was completed, we shared a lengthy conversations while I unpacked his belongings in the quarters that will house him during his training.
I have never treated him as a child, so it didn't surprise me when he questioned my reasoning's for sending him to stay with his grandfather in Port Kar. .I stand behind my decision and expressed as much to him, stating that the exposure and adversity that he faced being away from the City was good for him. A true leader needs to not be aware of his own surroundings but also be familiar with those things that helped in shaping his past.
What I failed to mention was the fact that I had missed him, deeply, along with the hated undeniable fact that he has gotten taller, vanquished are those things that made him a child, replaced instead with the slow evolution of masculine features. I imagine that he looks a great deal like Taimh did at that age, especially when he tried on the crimson cloak that his father purchased for him. I don't consider the resemblance a bad thing, for despite his fathers many flaws, he is a somewhat handsome man.
While I am unable to deny the shared similarities of both Taimh and Tynan, I will see that it extends no further for unlike his father, I will not allow my son's planned procreation to be wasted on poor choices.

His return reminding me that he is no longer mine to love like a child, weakened by motherly smothering. I take comfort in the fact that while his body grows stronger and more agile that his mind remains open to my influences, childish tactics reshaped and defined to meet the demands of impending adulthood. I look forward to the day when he shall naturally assume the leadership roles as Ar's next Administrator.

At his side I shall remain guiding him.

Turn the Page

The productive evening meeting had just concluded, leaving me to collect my thoughts within the public sanctuary of the outdoor cafe. The crowd that previously existed swelling in anticipation of the Magistrates publicized announcement. It was really no surprise, that the majority of spectators consisted of the low caste. In light of everything that has transpired it is logical that the majority of citizens live and breath awaiting not only reassurances but answers to the growing concerns of the salt shortage and ludicrous tax increase. All eyes turned towards him, whispered words seemed to hush as he emerged upon the stone platform. I remember thinking his face look thinner than the last time I had seen him, normally sharp eyes tired, yet his voice remained passionately eloquent as he offered the crowd the reassurances they desperately sought, that is until it was violently silenced.

My hands are dry and cracked. I look down at them now and they resemble those of a woman much older than myself. I don't know why I thought I could change the outcome of what has transpired by attempting to wash away the dried crimson blood stains. His blood. So much blood. I was unsuccessful in both endeavors.

The initial burst of adrenaline that coursed thru as I broke thru the crowd running towards him his lifeless body, remains, without a clear outlet beyond these words. I find these words as disorienting as my emotions. I should not be affected to this degree. As I stood there above him the sound of footsteps behind me, reminding me I had no place there. Yet I would not be denied confirmation. I still barely recall the pull of Carl's arm or the sound of my insistent voice as I found myself at the clinic. The crowd surrounding me provided a sense of an anonymous warmth until I pulled from them, entering his room. I don't think he even noticed me, which in truth is a blessing, for yet again I found myself in a place I did not belong.
I did not stay long.
Once we departed the clinic, I managed to not only convince myself but Carl as well that my concern was justified.
"It stands to reason that I would be concerned. He was after all elected to serve my best interest."

The lies we tell ourselves are perhaps much more dangerous than those we tell others.
I continue to stare out the window above my bakery, the dull moons slowly vanishing replaced by the dawning of another day. Tired vacant streets awakening, as the emotional tension continues to spill out across these pages, tears borne of what can only be described as guilty regret.
The assassin sharp arrow, while intended for another target has in the process weakened me, draining me of reason, the stabbing pain of vulnerably burns hot and bright within my soul. The guilt I feel rapidly gains ground spreading thru me like some sort of disease.
The truths that lay within me feel naked and exposed, raw and open to judgement and criticism.
The only difference between myself and the unseen assassin was the choice in weapons. I should have told him the truth concerning my involvement, sparing the pain inflicted upon him.
I am now torn between wanting to protect him and wanting to protect myself.
I have been foolish in permitting him entrance behind the cold blockade that I have spent en'vars constructing.
I should not be affected like this. I should not care this much.
The tears I shed are without logic they flow only because I am helpless to deny them.

Tonight , I should be joyous over the sparing of his life, instead I find myself mourning the loss of unaffordable indulgences.
Tomorrow is another day, I shall embrace it unencumbered by those things that attempt to destroy me. I shall take what happened and draw the strength of self preservation that I need to successfully conquer these emotions that attempt to destroy me.



The page turned, this chapter closed.

Shattered Resolve

"If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one

Drying in the color of the evening sun

Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away

But something in our minds will always stay

Perhaps this final act was meant

To clinch a lifetime's argument

That nothing comes from violence
and nothing ever could.

For all those born beneath an angry star lest we forget how fragile we are."
-
Chocolate bait

Four Palms Slaving House

Boulevard of Infractus Somnium

Tangled Web

The strongly held belief that most woman share traits with the Caste of Entertainers confirmed within the past couple of hands.
The performance comes at a price not measured by with either the passage of time or valuable of coin, instead overall the price is something far more intangible and costly, leaving me feeling drained an exhausted both mentally and physically.
The conflict that exists within me, continues to grow as I attempt to justify the path I taken.
I did not realize when I embarked upon the staged public severing of my relationship with the Poet that it would effect me to the degree that it has, I fear that he regards me along with the mass population that had begun to verbally speculate on his loyalty despite the recently shared correspondence. I did not anticipate the scroll delivered by Tupita earlier this hand, yet I welcomed it, as his words filled me with a small ray of hope. There was so much I wanted to say to him as he asked for my continued faith in his abilities, I only hope that he is wise enough to read between the carefully worded lines of my reply. I find it increasingly difficult denying myself his support and guidance, the price grows enormously steep as I continue to resist asking him for a private meeting in order to clear my troubled conscience, verbally exposing my true agenda concerning my outward involvement with Savana. I am not convinced it is better for him to believe me to be disloyal, yet I cannot risk being seen with him for fear that word somehow might be carried to the dangerously shrewd woman ending the ties that I have sought to strengthen. I remind myself to remain sharp and focus and not make the mistake of underestimating Savana's connections for at the moment I am uncertain as to the depth in which they extend.

The distance that separates us made wider as found myself forced to continue the public charade as I awaited the arrival of Savana in the Great Square only to find myself surrounded by Noemi and as well as the Poet. The open disdain I feel towards the Poetess easily performed aware of the bad blood that exists between herself and Savana, solidifying the bond she believes exists between us, in the process however my own cold demeanor would be purposely extended towards the Poet. I believe it helped in attempting to solidify our estrangement for the benefit of both woman ensuring I would not be called upon to take center stage in defense of the Poets tarnished character.

I can not risk feeding the continued speculative rumors concerning our relationship, not in light of the scheduled meeting that I am confident shall expose the truth behind the devastating salt shortage. The Poets haggard appearance confirms the circulating tales that he continued in his valiant search. It is not only his company that I miss, but more importantly it is the lack of favor that he regards with me, such favor I had not truly realized mattered to me before now.


The Teiban Sul Markets provided the setting last night for the handed out bowls of prepared stew allowing me to not only continued to spread the propaganda concerning the corrupt Administration but also cemented a sense of solidarity among my own people.
It also served as the perfect opportunity to cloud the waters and shift the growing rumors concerning Savana's involvement in the salt shortage as it wouldn't do to have her taken her in for questioning before I am able to locate the valuable commodity.
A new player on the scene adds to my growing worries, a tall striking man, introduced to me as Mika Savant, I do not yet know the extent of his involvement, it is however clear that has strong ties to Savana. His overall attire speaks of wealth, a confirmed fact exposed as I set about doing my research on him, according to what I heard he has always been considered somewhat of a recluse. So why now...does he keep company with the dark skinned woman? Has that ties that bind them always existed? It would explain the coin needed to finance needed to orchestrate the take over of the Cities vital resources. I suspect his involvement runs deeper than I previously imagined. I shall remained inwardly cautious and openly charming as to not alert their suspicious as the scheduled meeting grows closer. After careful consideration of all the facts it remains imperative that my perceived loyalties extend no further than my own self interest, something I am well versed in portraying despite the cost to my own personal safety.

Once the tables would be disbanded, the last of the food handed off to hungry hands did I seek the company of the Scribe, the remainder of the evening and well into the twilight hours of the morning spent in the company of the Scribe, Siminus, I did not need to voice my sins in order to received the absolution I sought. His company provided the solace I needed over a shared glass of wine, we spoke in depth as I wrote out the complied list documenting my suspicious, names and dates listed concerning those things I witnessed and believe bear deeper investigation. I drew up written stipulations outlining the steps I wish to be taken concerning my property and holdings should the need arises that I am unable to publicly voice my intentions as well as a separate scroll intended to be delivered to Tynan should I become entangled within the sticky web of deceit. The streets were deserted as I left his residence, the witnessed documents left behind.

Splintered Factions

The pages that stare at me do so with a blank expression. I struggle to untangle fact from fiction as well as the mirid of the emotions that lay between, questions concerning my own judgement takes center stage.

The beginning of the hand, should have been taken as a sign of what lay ahead, my own blind loyalty held me sequestered from the truth instead of opened to reason, as I found myself publicly embroiled in a verbal debate with the flamboyant Poetess.
To say I do not like the woman would be a glaring understatement, I make no effort to hide the fact a sentiment that is shared. I find her motives questionable, but also transparent not to mention her accusations unfounded concerning the Poet. I took pleasurable satisfaction reminding her of the stance he took concerning the repelled taxes. I remained steadfast not allowing myself to believe the worst, much less remain silent while she spread her lies thru the crowd. She however would not be swayed, driving her point onwards with the accusation of a personal involvement between myself and the Magistrate. I did not deny or substantiate the accusations, that is simply a slippery slope I will not publicly venture down nor will I be subjected to offering up any explanations concerning the company that I keep. While the desperate claim solidified my resolve, it did sway the crowd of onlookers heavily in her direction.
Truth be told, I am not surprised at the tactics used, the ability to blend scandal with fact are effective tools, I am often times guilty of operating the same way, not surprising really for I believe people always want to believe the worst about others.

It was only after we parted way, did I speak to the Magistrate concerning what had transpired. The facts altered slightly due largely to the fact that I wanted him to deny the accusations concerning his involvement, to offer me some sort of reassurance concerning the respect and trust I regarded him. I would be lying if I didn't admit the existence of the underlying satisfied motive gained in exposing the woman's true colors.
I came to understand the following morning why he did not offer me the reassurance I sought.

The plastered announcement embossed with the City Seal covered the City Board.

The earlier conversation fed the seeds of doubt the grows..

PURSUANT TO PENDING INVESTIGATION OF REASSESSED TAX INCREASES, ALL TAX INCREASES TO THE PEOPLE OF AR HAVE BEEN TEMPORARILY DEEMED REASONABLE.

The announcement, combined with the salt shortage brought with it pronounced splintering of factions, never before have the differences felt so pronounced. The upper Caste devotes themselves to luxury, uninterested in caring about the ones beneath them, in retaliation the Lower Caste has lost the war the more recent casualty, devotion. Chaos rules supreme. The balance of power grows increasingly oppressive to the point that those I formally held in esteem, are now viewed with opened skepticism. The formally repelled taxes, suddenly commanding center stage, threats circulated are done so with a malicious threatening tongue.

Sense of desperation replaces that of reason. The taste of betrayal has left me feeling cold.
Two days after the posting, I decided to put the Inn up for sale. It was not a decision I entered into solely due to my inability to pay the taxes upon the expensive property, even though that did weight heavily instead I simply refusal to feed the corrupt administration. I will not give in to the unreasonable demands, not at the expense of my pride nor my dwindling revenue.
The upstairs loft of the bakery suited me well in the past and shall continue to do so, I am fortunate that I have a choice, it is a luxury not afforded to many as my Inn is just one of many properties currently flooding the stagnant market.
The move will put much needed distance between myself and the Central Cylinder, it will also allow me to return to the roots of my success and those good citizens that have made it possible. It will allow me to continue to encourage others to remain intolerant and outspoken concerning the injustices that face us, I do remain optimistically hopeful that by presenting a united front we change the course of the current leadership.
I do so aware of the fact that it could label me a traitor.
The cost of my refusal to fall into line weighed. In this I draw the line the line in the sand.

A chance meeting with the Poet two evening ago allowed me to evoke one of the rights I still retain. The encounter poorly executed on my part. The frustration and betrayal that I still feel rendered me defensive instead of open to a reasonable debate. I walked away ashamed, instead of victorious, the words the longed to be heard remained silent upon my tongue.
"Why didn't you fight harder for us?"

The weight of the favor.

The common practice of bartering, the exchange of one commodity for another, normally pertaining to something other than coin is a something that has been practiced since the beginning of time. It is something that extends well beyond the Caste of Merchants. I am not alone in admitting that I have used it many times in order to gain what I wanted, boundaries stretched, in order to obtain professional and personal acquisitions. It can be a useful tool when seeking out not only goods, but information.
The terms outlining such an agreement, depending upon whom you are dealing with and the stakes of involved are often times verbal, yet that does not mean they are less binding.

Which brings me the subject of salt and the apparent dwindling City supply. I am at a loss to put a price on the valuable commodity. Its many uses are vast, rendering it vital to the overall economic welfare of those that depend on it. I am not so self centered to actually believe that I am the only one affected by the dramatic decrees, it's a problem that effects many, mainly not so surprisingly I believe the Low Caste are effected the most. I am perhaps simply being cynical in my observation of the facts. Yet I am not alone when I draw the correlation between the recently opposed tax increase and the sudden shortage. I remain steadfast in my belief that this show of power is simply another way for elected political leaders to remind us of the authority they hold. I would not be surprised to find them behind the well orchestrated plot, one that has already served to pit neighbor against neighbor in their ongoing fight to maintain their livelihood, in the process making us more dependant upon their leadership.

When faced with adversities, it makes us all do things we may regret.
It was no accident that our paths crossed last evening in the arena for I had sent crumb out earlier to monitor the movements of dark skinned woman, Savana. A woman of questionable character. That in itself makes the connections she has another valuable commodity.
I will say this, she doesn't waste my time, a fact I can readily appreciate.


"It is good to see you. How goes it? I have no salt if you are here lookingfor some." Came the quick statement, confirming the fact that while crumb makes a good handmaiden, covert operations clearly not her strong suit.

"I thought you would probably say that. I can't blame you. I wouldn't be sharing either. I am hoping perhaps you may put me in touch with someone that might be willing to sellme some."

"It is not impossible I know a friend of a friend thatowes me enough favors to warrant what you are looking for.
Of course, were I to put you in such a contact, you would then owe me afavor you realize."

"Good. Of course terms of this favor will be discussedbefore any transactions are completed. I do however appreciate yourassistance in this matter."

"Of course, we can go over the terms and I'm sure we can cometo a suitable agreement. We are two..rational..business women no?"

Company parted without any voiced confirmation to her comment.

The palpable tension that resides within the streets, exists inside me as well, nothing I am afraid compared to news of the pending tax increase.
I will admit if even to myself the political play and show of strength are commendable for it has made people scared, so scared in fact they have done exactly what those in power want, scattering for the sake of self preservation dividing themselves instead of joining together to create a united front.
They are need of a reminder, a reminder of who is to blame for the strife.
I have appointed myself as the voice of reason as I weight the price of the favor.

Administrative Grooming

There is much to said concerning ones routine, often times I considered it a comfort. Quite the opposite can be said concerning those with no real sense of direction, limited serviceable skills and intelligence seems to bring about a sense of boredom at least that is how it often time appears. I will admit there are times I wonder what it would be like to be afforded the luxury of the wealthy, I am sure that after a couple of en'vars it would grow predictably dull. I think however if the opportunity presented itself I would like to travel.

The past couple of hands my routine has unfortunately not been my own. Altered with the arrival of the sealed parchment, composed by Mazim, the Port Kar Physician in charge of attending to my fathers steadily declining health. The relationship between myself and my father has never been what anyone would consider warm, circumstances preventing such during my upbringing, due primary to the fact that during that time in his life, he was gone for long stretches of time, seeking out work aboard shipping vessel, plying his Caste as a Fishmonger. The nurturing task appropriately left in the capable hands of my mother. I find no fault nor place any blame within his behavior, in fact I respect his work ethics, the dedication he showed towards his Caste, set the standards for which I run my own business. A couple of en'vars when his health prevented him from adequately performing his duties I took it upon myself to assume the responsibility of his expenses, a fact that continues to elude him, I do this simply because it the right thing to do. All monetary transactions are funneled thru the Physician in exchange he keep me informed concerning his health and has also made arrangement to have the woman, Bernice, occasionally look in after my father, cooking his meals and tending to his laundry. It is an arrangement that befits all involved.
The dictated scroll indicated what I have been anticipating, no longer could my father sees to care of Tynan, my youngest son, it was time for him to return home. I pondered and deliberated about making the trip to Port Kar myself in order to collect him, despite Mazim's offer to arrange transportation for him. I was appreciative and truth be told it would have proved to be a logical choice for many, yet I cannot in good consciences allow Tynan's safety to put in the hands of strangers. I have not endured what I have in order to have it lost at the hands of another. The requested meeting between his father, Taimh and myself had been long in coming. The meeting purposely conducted at my Inn, allowing me home field advantage, uncertain of what his overall mood would be when I spoke to him concerning the decisions I had made. I will admit however his behavior was charming and quickly extended his assistance in personally going to Port Kar in order to reclaim what he had previously abandoned. He went so far as to offer to offer me assistance in financial matters that had accumulated beneath the neglectful parenting skills of his first born son. I vividly remember how tight the polite smile across my lips, declining any assistance for I will not allow there to be any debt between myself and my former companion.
I have long since, anticipated and welcomed the next morsel of information, upon their return Taimh would assume full custody of Tynan in order to being his training as a Warrior as well as learning the roles of a true leader only to one day assumes the role as the Administrator of the Great City of Ar.

The dawning of a new era approaches, boys become men, groomed with the necessary tools to become great leaders.

The powerful rewards of my previous companionship slowly coming to fruition.