17th of Spring, 518 AV
Elias had never felt such a particular discomfort like the one he now suffered. It was akin to sitting in the principle’s office, awaiting his punishment. The dread, the anxiety, the unbearable sense of helplessness. These were things a man like he was all too familiar with truth be told, but that familiarity only served to deepened his anguish. He felt like he should have said something, should have made his presence more domineering and known, but instead all he could do was sink deeper in to a chair that was far too comfortable for his tastes and await his judgement.
The man who held his fate in his hands?
A Nitrozian.
Nay, ‘The’ Nitrozian. Sitanos, first of his name and lord of his great house. A house Elias now found himself in that day. He had come to the Nitrozian hat in hand, as it were, and by their servant Olcott’s lead, the young stryfer had been led into the old man’s private office, the proclamation of intent he’d brought for consideration now resting comfortably in Sitanos’s hands as the older man studied it with a level of scrutiny that either bordered on the obsessive, or the utterly nonplussed. Trying to read the powerful businessman and his mood was like trying to make sense of Rhysol’s whim. It was particularly vexing, but the thought of using his auristics on the man in order to decipher his thoughts seemed like a particularly terrible idea, especially with Olcott, his loyal man servant, in the room. The older servant pretended as if to be courteously waiting off to the sidem awaiting his master’s beck and call, but the mage had worked with the butler in the past on behalf of the Nitrozians, that particular business with the summoner Baltizar Black coming first to his mind. He had gleamed something cunning and sinister hiding behind that frail old face, and knew the moment he’d laid eyes on him he was not one to so idly trifled with. After there business together had been concluded, there had been a shrewd promise of more tasks like that one to come, and a not so subtle promise on Elias’s part that he would be more than up for the task when the time arose.
Ever since Sitanos’s daughter, Evarista had been placed in Elias’s care -for lack of a better term- the scarred soldier had been using his connection to the family to further his affluence within the house, doing what he could when he could for them in order to gain a foothold of confidence. They were slow to trust naturally, but in the end he had likely gained Eva’s favor, and perhaps even Olcott’s as well. Hopefully, that would be enough to sway the man who both answered to in their own way.
He had heard rumor that Sitanos was as shrewd as he was fair in his dealings, and Elias prayed that was true. It was difficult enough to swallow his pride and come here looking for the hand out he now sought just once, he didn’t think he could do it a second time if the Nitrozian turned him away. He needed this money desperately though, because tied to it was his own family’s future. Costs for the renovations of the manor had spiraled so far out of control it was enough to leave a man dizzy, but the Caldera was forced to preserver. Little meant more to him than his family’s security and pride at this point, and he had convinced himself no low was too low to make sure he had assured both, for Alija, for her boy, for the future of all those who were yet to come. This needed to be done, and it needed to be done right.
His plans for the gold had all been laid out as carefully and as thoughtfully as man like Elias could manage with pen and paper, and all his consideration and planning were in clear detail upon the parchment Sitanos now studied.
Biting back a wayward sigh, the warrior shifted his weight uncomfortably and straightened himself with the seat. The sound of grinding leather was almost as awkward as Elias’s first attempt at speaking since he’d made his introductions and proposed his suggestion. He cleared his throat and coughed into his balled hand, both older gentleman turning their attentions slowly to the scarred killer. “Is… madam Evarista going to be joining us today?” He asked, trying to work up all the dignity and eminence his stiff frame could manage.
He groaned within his thoughts, annoyed by his own patheticness. Where the heck is that girl? he growled, glancing at the large ornate doors fo the office. Now when I actually need her here!
The man who held his fate in his hands?
A Nitrozian.
Nay, ‘The’ Nitrozian. Sitanos, first of his name and lord of his great house. A house Elias now found himself in that day. He had come to the Nitrozian hat in hand, as it were, and by their servant Olcott’s lead, the young stryfer had been led into the old man’s private office, the proclamation of intent he’d brought for consideration now resting comfortably in Sitanos’s hands as the older man studied it with a level of scrutiny that either bordered on the obsessive, or the utterly nonplussed. Trying to read the powerful businessman and his mood was like trying to make sense of Rhysol’s whim. It was particularly vexing, but the thought of using his auristics on the man in order to decipher his thoughts seemed like a particularly terrible idea, especially with Olcott, his loyal man servant, in the room. The older servant pretended as if to be courteously waiting off to the sidem awaiting his master’s beck and call, but the mage had worked with the butler in the past on behalf of the Nitrozians, that particular business with the summoner Baltizar Black coming first to his mind. He had gleamed something cunning and sinister hiding behind that frail old face, and knew the moment he’d laid eyes on him he was not one to so idly trifled with. After there business together had been concluded, there had been a shrewd promise of more tasks like that one to come, and a not so subtle promise on Elias’s part that he would be more than up for the task when the time arose.
Ever since Sitanos’s daughter, Evarista had been placed in Elias’s care -for lack of a better term- the scarred soldier had been using his connection to the family to further his affluence within the house, doing what he could when he could for them in order to gain a foothold of confidence. They were slow to trust naturally, but in the end he had likely gained Eva’s favor, and perhaps even Olcott’s as well. Hopefully, that would be enough to sway the man who both answered to in their own way.
He had heard rumor that Sitanos was as shrewd as he was fair in his dealings, and Elias prayed that was true. It was difficult enough to swallow his pride and come here looking for the hand out he now sought just once, he didn’t think he could do it a second time if the Nitrozian turned him away. He needed this money desperately though, because tied to it was his own family’s future. Costs for the renovations of the manor had spiraled so far out of control it was enough to leave a man dizzy, but the Caldera was forced to preserver. Little meant more to him than his family’s security and pride at this point, and he had convinced himself no low was too low to make sure he had assured both, for Alija, for her boy, for the future of all those who were yet to come. This needed to be done, and it needed to be done right.
His plans for the gold had all been laid out as carefully and as thoughtfully as man like Elias could manage with pen and paper, and all his consideration and planning were in clear detail upon the parchment Sitanos now studied.
Biting back a wayward sigh, the warrior shifted his weight uncomfortably and straightened himself with the seat. The sound of grinding leather was almost as awkward as Elias’s first attempt at speaking since he’d made his introductions and proposed his suggestion. He cleared his throat and coughed into his balled hand, both older gentleman turning their attentions slowly to the scarred killer. “Is… madam Evarista going to be joining us today?” He asked, trying to work up all the dignity and eminence his stiff frame could manage.
He groaned within his thoughts, annoyed by his own patheticness. Where the heck is that girl? he growled, glancing at the large ornate doors fo the office. Now when I actually need her here!
