The court broke up with the last petitioners of the day, a pair of merchants asking for help with bandits down the southward roads. Lord Cedric Redwood played with the corner of a slip of paper hidden in his sleeve. It was an opportunity in a sense, though he knew that Mirabella knew he knew that the letter was from her directly. If that woman would have made such a blunder by accident she wouldn't have so much influence. No, the events in the South Forests weren't to be ignored like the King did earlier. Though he had an inkling that the man also knew about the events, and just didn't care about some petty merchants. Now, if they had been slave caravanners they might have gotten a better reception.
With the increased demands of the College and the newly claimed Mana Well. They would need a lot of cheap labor in the next couple years, but a few grain merchants were a dime a dozen, so the old saying went. He continued to play with the paper as he made his own way out of the Reception Hall. He could go back to his rooms, but there was little to waste in matters of politics. Especially ones that had a deadline. It wasn't clear what the artifact she claimed to have found did, but no functioning artifact of the Faerun had been found. As a graduate of the College, Cedric could identify that the runes along the edge were a variant of said culture.
His pace slightly hurried through the open courtyard separating the College from the castle. The whole complex was laid out like a six pointed star, with the College taking up two points of the star along the west and southwest. They created some bridges to link the two points, and show off their magic during certain festivals. It was always a bit nostalgic to walk these grounds or look up at those bridges. He had spent a lot of time in both, and they had been the best years of his life. His fingers played with the paper again. As heirs to a family you could get away with a lot, but once you took the reins of that house much changed. Old friends became your rivals, and even romance had to burn. There was a duty the head of the family had to carry, even if they were never prepared for it.
Stepping into the entry of the College grounds, he shook off the light rain and his memories. It was one of the major reasons he didn't come around more often. It hurt enough to trade barbs and politic in court. This place was too full of memories to casually visit. He wanted to preserve them after all, he had far too few good memories to hold onto.
"Ah, Alumni Cedric!" A portly man called to him, once again seeming to have gained weight, even with the food issues rising. Cedric gave a quick nod to Master Oloroy, he would work for a stepping stone.
"Master Oloroy, I am heading to the Library. Though I find myself in need of the wise counsel of a Master of the Arcane." His words having the desired effect of the man, causing him to puff up his already impressive chest.
"Well, I do say I have much wisdom to offer. Do tell my good, Sir!" The response opening the door to his request.
"While I have much to study, I also have need of Master Rasputin, but do not know if I will find time. Should I seek him out first? Or should I do the critical research first?" Cedric layered his words with the honesty of need and pleading. Both things would stroke the ego of such a man.
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"Well...Well, perhaps instead of guidance I could instead give aid?" His brow showing a glistening of sweat. None liked to disturb the Master of Ancient Ways without a very good reason, and the quantifier of "very" is extremely important. Cedric put on a face of contemplation, before making a show of understanding.
"Perhaps, perhaps good Master. Could you inform the Master of my request for an urgent meeting?" Then a pause to set the hook, "Unless... no finding the albums and codex of Faerun research would be an onerous task. As there must be many..."
"No task is too onerous for such a Master as myself. My advice is to go seek the Master, and I will collect and leave your books with the librarian." The round man's face looked a touch too insistent. Cedric internally smiled since it was such an easy move.
"Of course, Master, thank you for your advice." He bowed his head, slightly deeper this time, and slowly walked off to the research campus. Master Rasputin never left his labs for any reason, and it was a well known fact that even the King had to visit him. The importance of Rasputin's work was both sensitive and critical for the growth and prosperity of the kingdom, and he knew where all the bodies were buried. As a level 100 Sovereign Mage he had found ways to extend his own life and work wonders with magical scripting. He even created a whole study of scripting called Infusion, where you could imbed magical scripts into items. Similar to enchanting but relying on small parts all working together in a series.
Cedric had always wanted to study the art, and have that be his world instead of the political dances he now performed. Yet, the wants and needs of a family head didn't care about his own. Perhaps when things were more settled and he grew older he could indulge. Until then, he would continue to enjoy watching the students talking about the field, and the occasional book he purchased. It was actually an area in which Infusion was helping everyone. Since it allowed for a machine to make books from a copy with far less labor and resources.
It could be seen as the years right before a Golden Age, but the paper in his sleeve hinted that it was more likely to an illusion. Perhaps if those events hadn't happened... But there was no use in contemplating possible futures in this place. Instead he picked up his pace as he moved through the open hallways.
----
"Please, my King, you must rest." Came the worried voice of his wife. Malagos was staring at another report of rebellion and damages in a town called Amalyn near the border of Masire. A witch hunt was currently raging with death in the dozens. He placed down the page and leaned back in his chair.
"There is far too much to do, and things keep getting worse." Came his reply to the woman in a chair near the wall. She was beautiful once but now served more political leverage than lust. At least she had given him a few sons to raise, well the servants to raise. The royal line had to continue after all, and she was of good stock from the courts. Her worrying about him had made him unhappy of late, and she knew it wasn't wise to anger him.
"Leave me." The words hard, not a request a royal decree, and the woman left. He didn't see the concern on her face as she did. He might not love or care about her, but she cared about him. Others couldn't see how hard he worked to make the wheels of government turn. She had read about and had seen poor leaders in her own family, but this man loved and cared about their nation. So even if if it meant displeasing him. She would continue to worry about him, even if he didn't love her the way she loved him.
That same determination continued until she collapsed dead on the floor of the Royal Quarters a knife sticking out her her chest.
"You are more right than you thought, young one." A soft voice said, a shape like a shadow cut from the air, "Wheels have to turn. It's been far too long." Six glowing eyes faded away last, and the bells in the castle sung out shortly after.