Flashback Road to an empire: Groundwork

[Ronan Dugal]

Fall, 5th, Year 504 Ronan, as an aspiring young adult at the age of 18, was hurrying through the streets of Syliras. He had stayed up too late the day before, trying to cram the last of the pages into his head before going to bed. Today was test day. Master Erindus would be very disappointed to see his favorite student, Ronan, to be late or, gods forbid, fail. With a set of scroll cases under his arms, a half closed vial of ink and a few writing utensils sticking out from between his lips and fingers, Ronan turned left up at the stone gardens, only giving a quick look towards the complex of meditation before his rush carried him passed it. Almost there. Almost there. Although not running, Ronan did quite his best to keep a high pace as he speed walked past a startled old couple. With a smirk he heard something along the lines of 'Youth today...' A typical old couple it seems. A quick turn right into the street there, not big enough to let a single wagon through but people on foot used it often as a shortcut, and Ronan could see his destination. Erindus' maps. He was going to be late. Late, late, late. With speed, Ronan passed the gate that led to Erindus' house and store. The short walk from the gate to the door lasted only a moment before Ronan reached the door. Ronan almost bumped against it in his haste as he tried to open the door, fumbled some of the things he was carrying, continued walking and tried to catch the stuff that was falling all at the same time. The result was, of course, that all of Ronan's stuff fell on the ground, Ronan himself bumped against the door with his head and he had to duck to grab his stuff from the ground. After gathering all his things, Ronan finally managed to get inside, only ten minutes late, which was not too bad. "Boy, son, young man! You are late! Late, Late, Late, I tell you. Today is test day. And you are late! Late, Late, Late!" Apparently only Ronan thought that being ten minutes late was not too bad. Master Erindus was working himself up over the fact that one of his students was late, grumbling on about his students not learning anything from him. "Sorry, master Erindus. I overslept. It won't happen again, master." Master Erindus suddenly stopped grumbling and turned to Ronan. "That's what you said last time, son. Don't lie to me." Although master Erindus was strict and methodical, all his students knew that he enjoyed teaching and really liked the boys in his classes. Whenever he attempted to be strict, he soon mellowed down and, on occasion, is known to even apologize to the subject of a tirade after class. Ronan kept his thoughts to himself as he moved through the classroom and sat himself in his usual spot, a little to the left of the middle and slightly behind it, seating him neither in front of the teacher nor on the first row nor on the back row but in the safe grey area of the students. Quickly putting his stuff down, Ronan settled in on his table, placing one scroll case on it, together with the ink vial and the writing utensils he had. Compared to some of the students, Ronan's stuff was really worn out. Almost all of it, except for one feather writing pen and a scroll case, all his items were somewhere between third and fifth hand, bought from Master Erindus over the course of his studies. About two years ago, the boy had found this place looking for a job and from one thing came another and Ronan was accepted as a student here. After the initial theory lessons and extra classes with master Erindus, through which Ronan had to struggle, Ronan started with practical classes and here the young man blossomed. He picked up one mapping method after another like it was nothing. His practical affinity far overshadowed the other students but his lack of general education impacted his theoretical studies, totaling Ronan's grades a little below the school average. "Well, now that we're all here, finally." He eyed Ronan specifically, which drew a short laugh from the rest of the class and a blush on Ronan's face. "Let's begin the test. Put your maps and cases away, you won't be needing them for now." Master Erindus halted himself here for a moment as the students shuffled and moved their items of the tables in order to make room for the test. Only writing utensils and ink vials remained on top. "Now, I'll hand out the test papers and then I'll read out the questions. Just write down the answer you think is correct." Master Erindus spoke with a loud and clear voice as he walked through the room, handing out empty papers to the students. Once he was finished he walked back to the front and sat himself on the edge of his desk, reaching for a stack of papers and pulling one particular one out of it. He held the paper out and started reading. "Question the first. Define Cartography. Define coordinates. Define map. Adjustment. Beach. And lastly, what is a chart?" Master Erindus waited after each question, leaving his students time to scribble down the answer. Around Ronan the sound of pens and feather tips scratching on the parchment, drawing the ink on it as they moved, filled the room. He focused himself, blocking out the outside interference and just focused on the sound of master Erindus' voice. Cartography? Cartography is... the art of... making maps. It involves planning, surveys,... Wait. Master Erindus always claims that his a... science guy and that maps are as much science as they are art... sketching, measurements,... Ronan scribbled his answers down as he followed the question. He had to adjust some of it to match his revised answer in the end. Coordinates... That's those two numbers... They represent...err... a location? Something like that? Ronan left some space after his previous answer and started to scribble down his thoughts. He managed to keep up with the teacher's question speed, although barely. A map is a representation, through images, of natural and or human made... things? through the use of symbols at a certain scale. I believe that's correct. An adjustment is when someone changes something on a map that is incorrect. Beach? That's err... area between the sea and the ground of a... err, different type of ground? Sure. Sounds good enough. Chart. I know that one. A chart is a special map that shows certain information. Every chart is a map but not every map is a chart. Satisfied with himself, Ronan wrote down the last answer of the test. Although the wording was simple, Ronan knew that, if asked verbally, he could have explained things. He just wasn't very good at explaining things on paper. Leaving his students some time to take a break, master Erindus watched as they completed their answers. His eyes rested on the young man with the raven black hair growing almost past his shoulders. Ronan. "Time's up. Pens down and hand your papers in to the student in front of you." Some light whispering occurred as the papers were handed to the front, stacking them up. Master Erindus gathered them up in front and placed them on his desk, weighing them down with a piece of rock, to keep them from flying away. "Now for the practical part. You've seen it more than enough and you've practiced it often but now its time to see if you know how to do it on your own. Grab your stuff and head outside. When you're outside, map me my garden." A chuckle from the students mixed with the rushed sounds of people gathering their things and heading out. The scraping of chairs over the floor mixed with students chatting as they headed out. Once outside, Ronan sat himself on the ground in the shade, away the other students as he observed the small garden in front of the house. It wasn't much to map but, depending on the amount of detail, it could take them the rest of the morning to finish. With his wooden drawing board to support his sketching paper, Ronan started to draw and map the garden. From the gate to the door, about 30 paces. From one side to the other only 24 paces. His charcoal drew quick and thin lines on the paper as he mapped the general face of the garden. In the middle was a stone fountain with no water. The path from the gate to the door snaked around it on one side. From the fountain a row of plants cut the garden in two uneven halves. The one half, where Ronan was sitting, was completely flat stone except for the circle of earth in which a small tree was planted. On the other side were a lot of potted plants and a tiled terrace in the sun, where most students were sitting and drawing. The sun continued on its path as Ronan worked his way through the sketching and mapping of the garden. After his initial sketch was done, Ronan started working on the final result. With the sketch in hand, complete with tile relief and measurements, Ronan headed inside, where the drawing tables provided a better surface to complete a map on. With a piece of map parchment, rather than a sketching paper, Ronan started work, Bordering his map first, a simple design, and from there started to map out the garden, scaling it down by 30, leaving him only a required piece of parchment about one foot in each direction. From there he started drawing the garden out. From the middle, where the fountain was, Ronan drew the lines, very lightly, copying them from his sketch. He adjusted the lines a little every time he felt the map was wrong, working on the light lines until he was satisfied. By now, most of the other students had joined him inside as well. Ronan finished with the groundwork of his map and started to draw over the thin lines with a thicker piece of charcoal to give more definite meaning to the lines. The basic map of the garden was quickly finished for Ronan but he liked to detail it. He started to draw each tile separately for the left side of the garden, taking the image of the tiles from his mind. His pen drew the lines and the details onto the map, adding to the map in front of the young man. Although he was already finished, technically at least, Ronan didn't mind working longer to add the details. In the end, the map would just be a small square with a few lines on it to show the different areas. Perhaps a plant here or there and the exercise would be done. But not for Ronan. Ronan continued to draw on his map, adding tile after tile, working very meticulously on his map. With the time for class ending, Ronan added the finishing touches to his map and bordered off the whole thing. With a little extra touches to his initial border, Ronan managed to draw the scale of the map into the surrounding border. Finishing off his map, Ronan, like all other students, used a very soft grain of sand and wood to dry up the ink on his map, carefully blowing it off of the paper afterwards. With the ink dry, Ronan handed his result in, together with the other students. Master Erindus had completed the tests and told each student their grade. Ronan had, as expected by both student and teacher, barely passed it. His wording had been sloppy and limited, although it caught the essence of the answer, it wasn't enough as a test answer. "I'm sure your practical map of my garden will more then make up for these results, son. Don't worry." And with that, he patted the young man on the shoulder and sent him outside.

[Ronan Dugal]

Fall, 27th, Year 504 Ronan and his big mouth. Every time. The street angled to the left and Ronan ran through the bend as he went. He barely managed to dodge someone in his way who screamed and cursed after him. "Sorry!" He yelled, without looking back. He knew what would be there. He could hear them shouting at him, cursing at him and yelling to stop running. Angry customers. Never a good sign. Whatever he had sold them hadn't been properly made or had been dysfunctional in some way. Not Ronan's fault. At least not in his own eyes. The customers, however, weren't very forgiving and wanted their money back. Like Ronan was going to give them their money back. What a strange notion. With his breathing already becoming labored, Ronan kept going, turning down the next street right, taking a sharp corner there to cut off some of the distance. He had to get rid of them or he wouldn't last for very much longer. Trying to find a recognizable point to see where he was, Ronan recognized a sign to his right as he passed it. With an educated guess he turned left in the next street and almost got run over by a horse. It seemed oddly familiar to Ronan. With a quick cross step, Ronan managed to change his course to run parallel with the horse, instead of crossing it. He hit the cart with his shoulder and spun around, rolling against the cart as he attempted to regain his balance and not lose his speed at the same time. Unbalanced, the support of the cart disappeared and Ronan's flailing arms were all that kept him upright. Slightly dizzy, Ronan continued, focusing as he picked up the pace. If he wasn't mistaken there was a dead end in the next right. A dead end that he could use to get away. The crowd of angry customers was on his heels as Ronan turned right. Happy to see the end of the road right ahead of him, Ronan picked up speed, a little trick he had learned in his younger days. Seems like evading bullies was the same as evading angry customers. The wall ahead of him was rather high, although not insurmountable. Running straight for it, Ronan kicked his foot up and placed it against the wall in mid run. His momentum, combined with his jump, allowed his hands to reach the edge of the wall. With a little effort, and the confusion in the crowd, Ronan managed to pull himself up on the wall. Balancing himself, he turned around to face the masses. Well, the five people, actually. "Now wait just a minute. I'm the victim here as well. I had no idea that those things didn't work. He sold them to me and claimed they were prefect. If you want to blame someone blame him. Not me. I'm just a go between." The crowd thought about this for a moment. It seemed like his words were heard as they started muttering amongst themselves. Ronan let out a sigh in between his deep breaths as he took this moment to recover. It wasn't sure yet that they would agree, so Ronan stayed alert and ready to bolt in case they decide on getting him anyway. One guy stepped forward and looked up at Ronan. "You should have checked first before selling it further." Ronan looked at the man, trying to determine his intelligence or smarts. From what he could tell he hadn't come up with the idea on his own but he did have the most guts out of them. His clothes were ragged and worn and from his stance, Ronan could tell he was a seaman. "He told me they were fine. What is the world coming to if you can't trust an honest trader anymore, right?" Apparently he wasn't right. The answer to his statement was that they started all yelling at the same time in Ronan's direction. Ronan just stood and waited, hoping that they would calm down. But they didn't. Things got worse as they started reaching for stuff to throw at him. The rock that was flung in Ronan's direction only missed him because he managed to step out of the way. The only problem was that he stepped in the air behind the wall. With arms swinging and flailing, Ronan tried to keep his balance. As gravity pulled him down he slowly disappeared out of sight from the unhappy customers. A loud crash and the sound of things breaking could be heard before the crowd got it in their heads to go around and look for Ronan. On the other side of the wall, Ronan lay on top of broken pieces of wood, probably from a crate or something that had been rotting away here. The impact had bruised his entire back and ass, which all hurt at the same time. The wood had ripped through his outfit in two places and both were bleeding, although nothing dangerous, just open scratches. Picking himself up from the ground, Ronan dusted himself off and tested if he could move or if anything was broken. Besides the bruises that would probably show starting tomorrow and the scratches on his arm and hip, Ronan had no injuries. Realizing that he wasn't out of the clear yet, Ronan started to limp out, his hand on his hip as he walked. When the angry customers finally managed to find a way around to the other side of the wall, Ronan had already disappeared into the maze of back alley streets.

[Ronan Dugal]

Fall, 42nd, Year 504 The bell tingled as Ronan opened the door and walked into the shop. "Whaddaya want?" The usual greeting, Ronan had already gotten used to it. Self proclaimed Master Magicker Engodius was the owner of the shop, a short man with a long beard, big glasses and a face set to angry almost every hour of the day stepped from behind the counter. Actually, he first stepped off of the chair he always stood on, as it allowed him to look over the counter. So after the disappearing of his head behind the counter, the dwarf-man stepped out from behind the counter. "Who'er yeh, boy? Come to harass Engodius, Master Magicker?" Also the usual greeting, Ronan smiled at the man. "No, master Engodius. It's me, Ronan. Your assistant. Remember? I started here a few days ago?" Two things could be said for sure about master Engodius. The man was short and he was confused, to put it nicely. He barely remembered anything about people or social conventions but he could quote every word in every book in his store. He knew every book in here by heart and used that knowledge to fuel his research into creating eternal life. In front of the shop it was a bookstore but in the back, Master Engodius was an alchemist. Ronan didn't know what he was alchemisting about but it did create a lot of noise in the back, with the occasional explosion after which Engodius would come from the back, his beard smoking or on fire and his entire face black. He hadn't suffered a serious injury yet but the explosions got worse over time. "Ah, yer here. Yer late, no?" Ronan shook his head, smiling at the man. "No, master. I'm twenty chimes early, as usual." - "Really now. Canneay say that I believe ye, son? Now hop to the workin'." Ronan had started working here after he was recommended to Engodius by Erindus, his cartography master. They had been friends or something in the past. Whatever they were now, Ronan didn't know, but Erindus' word had carried value and Engodius had allowed him to work for him as a sales clerk, which was understandable with Engodius' social skills. So while the master magicker was blowing things up in the back, Ronan took care of the shop. There were not a lot of customers, as far as Ronan could tell, but most of them were of the same kind as Engodius and Erindus. Older men with beards and long robes talking to themselves or amongst each other about a whole loud of things Ronan didn't understand. The word magic often popped up. When he asked Engodius or Erindus about it they both ignored his questions, which wasn't so uncommon for Engodius but from master Erindus it was a first. Not one to pry, Ronan had dropped the subject. Master Magicker Engodius worked by a simple system. A book was sold for 8 GM unless it came from the section behind the counter, then the books went up to 55 GM, minimum. Ronan had seen two of the customers fight and bid over a book, so loud that even Engodius came from his alchemy place to see what the commotion was about. In the end, Ronan had sold the book to the one customer who offered 347 GM for it, leaving the other customer unsatisfied and grumbling as he slammed the door of the shop shut, causing the bell to tingle once again. Ronan had never seen so much money in his life before and the sheer amount of it made him doubt his moral values for a moment. Engodius simply pocketed the purse with the sum, mumbling something about 'useless' and 'takes up too much space'. Ronan never knew what he did with it. Today, the shop was empty as usual. Apparently smart people liked to sleep in late. To the side of the entrance, Ronan saw a selection of wooden planks and supports, combined with nails and a hammer. "Yer hangin' them plankers up t'day. And then yer sortin' all that on them." Master Engodius casually motioned towards a large pile of books behind the counter. The books were stacked up almost to Ronan's ribs, which was about the highest Engodius could lift a book. That was a lot of books. Ronan could guess where that pile of money from the other day had gone into. "Of course, master Engodius. I'll see that it gets done." - "Oh... B'for' I ferget. Dunnaey ferget to make a list o' them bookers, kay." Ronan nodded with a sigh. He wouldn't get a break here if it was the last thing in Mizahar. So, without further ado, Ronan started to clear the designated wall from anything on it, putting the maps and paintings aside, carefully. With what he had learned from Master Erindus, Ronan started to map out the wall in his mind. He took one of the pencils and started drawing dots on the wall, where the nails would go that kept the supports from falling down. Balancing one of the planks on his hands, Ronan stood on a chair so he could easily check the balance of it. He held it slightly above the dots and looked from one end of the wood the to other, trying to see if it was level. It looked alright. The bell tingling drew Ronan from his focus. "Welcome, welcome. I will be with you in just a moment." Ronan spoke over his shoulder as he started to move down from the chair. He heard rustling behind him as the customer moved around to peruse the books. Ronan waited patiently behind the counter as the man picked out books from the shelves and skimmed through them in order to get a feel for them. He soon replaced most of the books and bought two. Ronan noted their titles down on the list of sold books and accepted the price of 14 GM for the two books. "Thank, sir, and come again." Ronan smiled at the man as he walked out. As soon as he had left, Ronan returned to his carpentry-slash-construction project. Taking one of the supports, two nails and the hammer, Ronan lined the support up with the drawn hole he had made. Holding it steady with one hand, Ronan pushed the nail into the wood of the support so it would stay in place. Once it didn't fall as soon as he let go of it, Ronan started hammering on the nail to get it into the wall. With the last bang on the nails, Ronan saw that it was good. He stepped down from the chair and observed his creation. The single support stuck to the wall. On to the next one. Once more, with two nails, the hammer and a support in his hands, Ronan attacked the wall. The support was held up against it as Ronan tried to push the nail in as far as possible before hammering away at it. Satisfied with his little construction work, Ronan lifted the wooden plank up above the supports and placed it down in them. Checking once more, Ronan saw that the wooden plank angled slightly down and away from him. Nothing serious but he would have to tell master Engodius so he could buy a book support. With the first shelve completed, Ronan took a short break, looking through the different books in the pile behind the counter. The titles all had difficult words in them and, although he could read them, he had no idea what they meant. Just as he was about to restart the little bell tingled again. "Good morning. How can I be of service?" Ronan smiled at the couple that had entered the store. Curious to see them here. It wasn't like there was much interesting to be bought here. The couple looked around for a while before asking for the prices. "The books all range between 7 and 10 GM a piece. The ones behind me on the shelves are less common and are priced around 50 GM but can sell for much more if there is a high demand." The couple thanked Ronan and left after browsing the books a while longer. Ronan guessed it was either the prices or the subjects of the books. With nobody left in the store, Ronan got back to work and hammered the two other supports into the wall as well, below the previous ones, leaving enough space for a large book. The carpentry-slash-construction that was going on took another 40 chimes as Ronan drew the nail holes, lined up the planks, hammered away at the supports and finally rested the planks on them, creating a double line of planking on the wall for the books to be placed on. Looking at his handiwork, Ronan was pleased with himself. At first sight, it looked like it was all straight and perfect, although a closer inspection would reveal that the left top plank angled a little towards the door, which was on its right side. Eating his lunchbox, Ronan took a break for himself. He looked through some of the books and at some of the covers. The images on them, if any, were strange and things Ronan had never seen before. Symbols he didn't recognize and creatures he had never seen in Syliras. If they even were creatures, Ronan had no idea where they could have come from. His lunch went down quickly and Ronan set himself back to work. First he lowered the height of the book piles, dividing them over more and smaller piles in a half circle. Sitting himself in the circle, Ronan held the list in one hand and dipped the writing quill in the ink. The first book was named Theorem of magic by Alabaster Runjar. Ronan wrote down the words, of which most didn't mean anything to him, and noted down the price and made a dash under the amount of books. The system was an abbreviation of the one that had been in place before Ronan had started here and was much easier to use for Ronan. When Engodius had seen it he had whistled, impressed. "Impressive." The sole word of praise he had gotten from Engodius since he had started there. The quill moved over the parchment of paper as Ronan moved books from a stack in front of him to a stack behind him. With each book that he moved from one stack to the next, Ronan added information to the paper. Some books were doubles and only needed a single dash under the amount of books, near the right title, other books were new ones and required a whole line of information. Sometimes, book titles were written in such strange handwriting or with such decorations that Ronan had no idea what it said. When that was the case he put the book aside for later. Depending on the master Engodius' mood he would ask him or copy the letter straight onto the paper. As Ronan's organization continued, so did the time. Before he had even gone through half of the books, Ronan noticed it was getting darker outside, time for him to go home. Putting the list aside for now, Ronan put some sawdust on it to let the ink dry as he started to put the books he had already listed onto the shelves he had installed earlier today. He did avoid the top left shelve for now, not wanting to see any books tumble down from there. He stacked the books neatly, in order of their names. Books starting with an A were kept to the left and books with a Z were all the way to the right. After all the books had been put away, Ronan looked over the pile still waiting for him on the other side of the counter. That was work for tomorrow. He took the list and made sure the ink was dry before placing it on one of the books on the unfinished pile. "Goodbye, master Engodius. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" He spoke into the back of the shop. No response. Not that Ronan had expected any. With all his things pocketed, Ronan quickly swept the shop with the broom, preparing it somewhat for tomorrow. He closed the door behind him, the familiar tingle sounding through the door. Turning towards the setting sun, Ronan headed home.

[Ronan Dugal]

Fall, 15th, year 504 Map the wall of Syliras. It sure sounded easy. Sometimes Ronan wondered if master Erindus was crazy. Map the wall of Syliras. Who does that? Map the wall to a city of about 50000 people. Ronan shook his head as he passed through the gates of Syliras, nodding towards the guards. Master Erindus had just given them the assignment, nothing else. Map the wall. Crazy old man. With his Mapmaker's kit under his arm and in his pack, Ronan walked outside of the walls, looking over the spot he was supposed to map. Deciding, he turned right and followed the wall. It had been a big assignment until Ronan had come up with a nice idea during class. Why didn't they split up the map, agree on a scale and start mapping parts of the total wall, each on his own. It would lower the workload for each person individually, it would increase the work speed and it would lower the amount of overlapping maps. Mistakes could still be made but there was enough people around to fix them. Ronan's idea had been met with pros and cons. Some people were for it while other weren't, partly because Master Erindus had mentioned nothing of it. Ronan used that exact argument against them as he convinced them. It was a good idea and master Erindus would get his map of the wall either way. Ronan's way would just save them a whole load of time and double work. After more discussion about it, hashing out the details and everything, Ronan had presented his plan to the entire group of students. He had divided the wall into section, each section for a student. There had been some swapping around between the other students but everyone seemed happy with their spot in the end. With a little math, some students had devised the right scale, setting it down on paper, which was copied by everyone. Afterwards they had set out, each to their own part of the wall that needed mapping. When he reached the point where his map would end, more or less of course, Ronan sat himself down on a nearby piece of rock. With the wooden plate resting on his legs he rolled out a piece of sketching parchment. The piece of charcoal quickly moved over the parchment as Ronan drew the movement of the wall, attempting to realistically draw the wave in the wall as it expanded back and forth. Like all joint venture projects, Ronan had received a scale on which to draw. Every square on the map was a square mile in real life, so each square had one horizontal mile and one vertical mile in it. Or at least that's how Ronan had remembered it. Sitting on his rock, Ronan drew the wall in front of him. It was curious how drawing simple lines could take a man so much time. Draw the wall. Erindus was crazy, Ronan was sure of it now. Ronan didn't move much from his spot for the next few bells as he perfected his sketch to the best of his abilities. In the end it looked like a black snake as Ronan attempted to draw the back and forth motion of the stone structure. Who built a wall like this? Stupid Syliran knights. Ronan got up from his spot and started walking back towards the gate. Once he had passed enough distance, Ronan sat himself down again and repeated the process. On a new sketch paper he started to draw the wall again. With the other paper next to it he attempted to have them both connect when placed next to one another. The details of the wall would be left for later as Ronan simple focused on the motions of the inanimate construction. He often had to stop to draw a tower or something on the wall, which looked like nothing more than a square. A little trick he had learned was to draw the tower above the sketch of the wall, instead of on it, and then connect it to the right spot with a simple line. It reminded him a lot of the letter i whenever he did it. The next stretch of wall was simple and straightforward. A line that was interrupted by the occasional watchtower, nothing fancy. Ronan moved onto the next part. Every sketch he made was added to the increasing stack in his pouch. With the gate already in sight, Ronan was about finished with his sketching. The difficult part would be to map it out correctly and with detail on the final map. As he approached the gate for his final sketch of his section of the wall for today Ronan saw a the guards stop and argue with two traders sitting on their wagon. Losing his interest in them, Ronan focused on the wall and started sketching. The gate was important as he sketched more detail onto it. How far did the gates go when opened, which way did they open, the towers were added as well, using the same technique. How much thicker was the gate than the rest of the wall? All details that went into the sketch. With his bag of sketches on his belt and his supplies tucked away in his backpack and under his arms, Ronan saw that the trader's were talking amongst themselves, away from the gate. From what Ronan could tell they had been denied access to the city for some reason. He nodded towards them as he passed them and walked back into the city, through the gate. Ronan suddenly stopped, standing still in the middle of the gate structure before turning around again. What a great idea. He smiled at himself as he walked back out and towards the traders. He couldn't understand what they were talking about as they argued amongst themselves but Ronan greeted them in polite common. "Good morning, gentlemen." The two traders stopped arguing and looked at Ronan, 'go away' written all over their faces. "I couldn't help but notice your little problem with the guards. Do you mind if I have a look at your wares?"/Color] Their expressions changed as soon as it became clear that Ronan was a customer, or at least a potential one. Their goods were nothing major to look at, simple crafts and tools with some decorations, a few baskets of fruit, some jewelry which looked quite nice, although Ronan didn't really know the value of them and a small pouch of gems which sparkled in the sunlight. Their most prized item, however, was a piece of art that Ronan found unsightly but apparently was very precious to the two. [color=green]"I could help you out. I'm allowed to go in and out of the city as I please. I could buy your goods and sell them in the city." The two merchants talked about it at length in their own language while Ronan waited patiently. It was a good deal for him and it was, currently, the only deal for them out there, unless they decided to return home with their goods. From the looks of it, they were eager for the profits, like Ronan. "Alright. Sounds like a deal. What are you interested in?" The trader spoke with a thick accent on his common speech, which Ronan couldn't place nor recognize. "All of it, although I don't have enough money on me to buy it all at the same time. How much for the whole wagon and horse?" The traders eyes sparked with greed as they quickly calculated the prices of their goods plus the pay for their transport and came up with a ridiculously high number. "We can give it all to you for 500 Golden Mizas." Ronan smiled at the traders. "Your goods are not that great and 500 is way too high a price. I think we should settle at 350 Golden Mizas." Set your sights on a certain price and then lower it by as much as the other persons price is higher than it. Ronan had his eyes on 400, perhaps 425 but not higher. The trader seemed to blow up and explode. "350? Outrageous. That's a ridiculous price. We would lose any profit we would have made from our trip. No sir, I'd rather not sell than sell for 350. I can go as low as 480." Ronan smiled as the game started. "That's too high for me, sorry. 480 golden mizas is a small fortune for a man like myself. I can not go higher than 395." The number was used simple because Ronan didn't want to say 400 yet. The traders seemed to realize that Ronan was not just a random customer but a trader in his own right. Their current attitude towards him was working in his favor as they didn't see the inexperience on his face. It was only the first time he made such a big deal for himself. The haggling continued as reasons for high and low prices were passed back and forth and the final price drew closer to the middle. With the price standing at 427 GM, Ronan pulled out his final and trump card. "Gentlemen, this is my final offer. 420 golden Mizas. At this point I would like to remind you of the guards over there who are not letting you in and that chances are high that I'll be your only customer today. Just think about it." That fact had been very real to the traders and they were hoping that Ronan wouldn't play on it but they knew it had been coming all along. "Alright. 420 it is. In cash." After discussing the details a little more and getting the traders to wait at the gate for perhaps another bell, Ronan rushed into the city. He arranged his pouch and backpack so he could get the most of his speed. He ran through the city, down the large roads, dodging other people and animals on his way to the merchant quarter. He knew just the people to contact for this. He hadn't seen them in a few years but he hoped they were still favorable towards him, as they had been in the past. His target was still in the same place and was still owned by the same couple. Roland and Francine welcomed Ronan with open arms. They showered him in greetings and reprimanded him for not coming by for such a long time. He could see they were getting older and it bothered him that such good people were slowly dying but he quickly explained his position to them. "I need money. Quite a bit in fact. I know it is not good to ask you for it and I know I should work for it but I struck a really good deal with some traders outside the walls and I need the money now. I can pay you back in a few days, with interest, I'm sure of it." Ronan paused for a moment. He knew that this was enough but he felt the need to explain more to these two lovely people. It was important somehow. "I can't go to get a loan from an office, they won't trust me nor give me the money. And if they did they would require so much more back that I would lose money. You're my only chance. Please?" With those words, Ronan kept quiet as the elder couple looked at each other. "How much do you need exactly?" Ronan couldn't believe it. The weight of the purse on his belt felt like it was pulling him down as he ran. His hand was clutched tightly over it in order to prevent the coins from tingling too much and drawing too much attention from any possible thieves. With a nod to the gate guards, Ronan passed them on his way out and saw the traders by the side of the road, waiting still. Ronan wasn't quite sure but he had been gone longer than expected. "You're late." Ronan smiled and took out the purse with the money. "I got the money. You want it or you want to complain about how I am late?" Their eyes moved to the purse, greedy for the money. The sum totaled 400 gold Mizas borrowed from Roland and Francine and 20 gold Mizas, in gold, silver and copper Mizas, Ronan had taken from his study fund. It was only temporary anyway. The traders eagerly counted the money down to the last copper Miza before looking at Ronan, satisfied. After a polite handshake, they parted ways. Ronan would probably never see them again. OOC honey 10 pints pork sausages 5 pounds chemise 2 pieces x 20(satin) x 5(Brocade) yellow and violet Glass crafts 5 pieces Tulja puoltice 2 pieces perfume, common 5 oz salt 2 pounds Fabric common 10 yards Fabric fine 10 yards earrings silver 2 pairs rings gold 2 pieces Book, average 5 candles 30 wagon 1 light horse 1 total of 476 GM 3 SM bought for 420 GM With his newly acquired goods, horse and wagon, Ronan started to move towards the city. The horse was difficult at first but Ronan simply pulled and pulled until it set itself into motion. With effort and a chuckle from the guards he managed to stop the horse at the gate, before it simply moved through. "Be careful with those types, they're kept out for a reason. We'll have to search your goods." One of the guards spoke as they moved to the wagon. "Thank you, sir. And please, go ahead." There was nothing illegal in the wagon so Ronan had no problems with them searching it. After they finished and gave Ronan the go ahead, he started pulling once more until the horse decided to get into action and pull the wagon further into the city. With a mental list of the goods in his possession in his mind, Ronan went over the mental list of people and shop owners he knew, trying to combine the right goods to the right shop or person. Ronan took his newly acquired wagon and horse through town, which was more of a struggle than he had anticipated. The horse had no desire to listen to Ronan and Ronan didn't have the time to get the horse to listen so between the two of them they played a little tug of war vs stubborn horse game. The first stop was a clothing shop where Ronan sold the two satin and brocade chemises after explaining that they were made in the south of Mizahar in the desert there, the name of the region escaped Ronan at the time. After a bit of haggling back and forth Ronan sold the two chemises to the man for 22 GM a piece, which he thought was quite cheap and left him happy. Ronan's tour continued as he sold the honey and sausages to an inn. The perfume was sold to a passing lady who was accompanied by a fully armored guards. At one of the many local doctors, Ronan sold the Toulja poultices for a profit as well. The books he dropped of at Master Engodius' store where they went straight into the back counter for sale. They were the most expensive item collection in his wagon so Ronan got the most profit out of that one. Ronan was sure that the man would fetch a good price for them. His next stop took him back to the merchant streets where he met with Jack, a long time friend and butcher, to which he sold the salt. In the market he spend time for a while trying to sell the fabrics and jewelry to people passing by. He managed to sell the fabrics over the rest of the day but the jewelry remained virtually untouched although this was not a problem for Ronan as he knew exactly where to go for them. With no real need for the horse and cart anymore, Ronan went to one of the stables on the outskirts of town where he sold both for a small profit as well. With the leftovers, jewelry, candles and the glass crafts, carefully packed away in his backpack, Ronan walked back towards the merchant district. The sun was already touching the walls of the city as he reached the auction house. Roland and Francine were very happy to see him, twice in one day after so many years of silence. After being offered cookies and tea or anything else to drink Ronan managed to sit the couple down, taking on his former role as their assistant and servant. Once they were seated, behind the desk where he had seen them so many times before in the past, Ronan sat himself in the chair in front of him. The customer chair, the client chair. Ronan had steeled himself and was ready to meet his mentors and teachers in a battle of negotiation skill and wits. At first they looked a little puzzled but as soon as Ronan started to unpack the goods from his backpack, the 5 small glass crafted statues and the jewelry, they understood why he was here and why he was sitting in that specific chair. The couple choked up for a moment as they passed a look between each other. Roland watched his surrogate son as he prepared the negotiation battlefield. The items were spread out over the table, between the two parties so all could see. "I bought them from two traders who weren't allowed in the city. They were very greedy." And with that little introduction, both sides discarded their love for each other. "They don't look very well made. I'd say about 4 GM a piece?" Ronan could feel the change in Roland as he spoke. Whatever the man felt for Ronan was gone for now. Set a price and guide your opponent to it. "Their craftsmanship is as good as any in Syliras, you know that. 10 GM." - "That's expensive. And not funny. If it is as good as Syliran craftsmanship I can also just buy it in the city for 4 GM and a few silvers." Ronan was gaining some money already, things went smoothly. "But if you buy it in Syliras you won't be able to sell it for much more either. These glass crafts were made in the distant south, which makes them more valuable than what you got here. I'll sell them for 9 GM and 5 SM." For a moment, Ronan thought he saw a the corners of Francine's lips curl up in some sort of a little smile but her face hardened as he tried to look again. "It doesn't matter where they are made when the skill they were made with is so limited. I can't sell these products in good conscience. 5 GM is my final offer." By now Ronan was already grasping for retorts. He had been a fool to try and challenge these two. "The skill may not be of superior quality but the design is very well done and I won't part with them for less than 8 GM." The sudden drop in price gave away his predicament and Roland didn't waste any time to swoop in on it. "In that case I can't help you, son. Perhaps you should try one of the local glassworker shops?" Complete defeat. Ronan had lost, in more ways than one, to his old mentor. Not one to cry over something like this, Ronan put up a brave front but the disappointment and sadness seeped through his facial features and the old couple could see them clearly. "How about you give them to me and I sell them tomorrow on auction and we split the winnings 50-50?" Roland spoke softly as he stood up from his chair. The battle was over, one side completely crushed. "But... You didn't want to buy them?" Ronan was confused as he looked up at his old mentor. He let himself be guided to the sideroom, where he had seated and served so many guests after they had fought with the same entity he had attempted to defeat. Once inside, he was seated down and served something to drink. "You did well, Ronan. You came so far on your own. And it's not like we really need the money." Later in the evening, after Ronan had helped the couple catch up on past events in Ronan's life, they were sitting in the room, each one lost in thoughts of their own. It then occurred to Ronan that he still had something in his pack. He reached for it and pulled out the candles. Now there was an item Ronan had no clue about where he could sell it. Or for how much. "Err... Do you use candles, Francine?" Ronan smiled at her as he handed her the thirty candles in a stack. They could probably use it and it's not like he would have made any real profit out of them. So he gifted them to the couple. Whatever they would do with it was up to them but Ronan doubted they had more use for them than him and realized that the candles would probably end up as decoration for high priced chandeliers or something. After nightfall, Ronan headed out, making sure that his mentors and the closest thing he had to a real grandfather and mother, were fine on their own. Ronan's adventure that day, including the sales at the auction house of the jewelry and glass figures, had boosted Ronan's pockets by 522 Golden Mizas, of which he returned 400 to pay back Roland and Francine, who promised him that he was always welcome and that they were more than willing to help him out again and made him promise that he wouldn't stay away for such a long time again. With his gained 122 Golden Mizas, most of which came from the books he had sold to Engodius, was pocketed safely in his purse as Ronan quickly headed home. So from the 20 Gold Mizas Ronan had put into the venture, Ronan had made 6 times as much in a single day. He hoped that there would be many more traders who were not allowed to enter the city in the coming seasons. After stashing away his money safely, Ronan dropped himself on his bed and fell asleep, peacefully, without any money problems for a while.

All of it, although I don

[Accolade]

Ronan Dugal

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Cartography	+ 3 XP
Running	+ 2 XP
Observation	+ 3 XP
Carpentry	+ 1 XP
Negotiation	+ 1 XP
Persuasion	+ 1 XP
Organizing	+ 1 XP
Acrobatics	+ 1 XP

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Gravity: Hurts like a bitch
•	Losing a negotiation
•	Not everyone is trustworthy
•	Late for an important test.

Notes :

Very good read, you have an interesting take on writing and the way you see your PC. Keep writing!

The Sylir has spoken

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.