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Murphy.

A settlement east of Rynmere across a stretch of water called 'the eastern trench' broken into three regions: Welles, Oakleigh, and Berwick.
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Tristan Venora
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Dinner with the Duke

Zi’da 32, Arc 717

Tristan had the feeling that his new subjects still didn’t like him very much. They viewed him as an intruder. Some of them even wanted him to die. He had distributed a lot of surgical masks when they had suffered from a mysterious illness, and he had donated money to the poor as well because people liked it when you donated money to the poor, but that didn’t seem to have been nearly enough. He didn’t know what else he could do though. Help more poor people? Ask Sintih to find a few more bodyguards for him to give the assassins he was sure they would eventually send a hard time?

No, he decided, he would talk to them instead. He would try to get to know them better. He would ask them what he could do for them and hopefully convince them that he wasn’t there to take their freedom away. He wanted to work together with them. He had once persuaded Ilaren, the Immortal of Alcohol, to share his bed, so how hard could it be to persuade a couple of merchant families to support him and convince them that he was not a tyrant, but a really nice guy?

Most likely very hard …

~~~

A few trials after Tristan had made that possibly fateful decision Murphy Clyde would find himself facing a middle-aged man that was dressed in a fancy suit and had a rather prominent mustache, just as he was about to tend to his horses. The man looked at him, as if he were wondering if he was facing the right man, cleared his throat loudly and explained, “I’m a servant of His Grace, Tristan, the Duke of Oakleigh, and I bring a letter from him.”

With that he handed the heir of the Clyde family a cream colored envelope that bore a crimson seal.

“If you wish, Sir”, he continued. “You can give me your answer, and I’ll take it back to His Grace.” With that he made a step back, obviously waiting for Murphy to open the envelope and read the letter within. He didn't move at all, but stood there stiffly, as if he were a statue.

When he opened the letter, Murphy would find out that it was an invitation to a private dinner with the duke in his estate in Oakleigh. He wished to get to know the merchant families that had already done so much for the Eastern Settlement better, and he hoped that Murphy would accept his invitation.

~~~

Oakleigh Estate was a very modern building, with lots of white stone, glass and metal. When Murphy arrived, he would find that he received a welcome that was worthy of a lord – for that was how Tristan had decided to treat him, despite the fact that he bore no official title and likely never would. The merchant families had taken care of the Eastern Settlement for generations before he had arrived, and thus they deserved his utmost respect and gratitude.

A servant would immediately take care of his horse – if he arrived on horseback – and the guards bowed to him before they opened the door wide and gestured for him to step through. More guards stood on the other side of the door. They too bowed to him.

Murphy would likely find Oakleigh Estate very … different. There were no ancient paintings. There were no dusty carpets, no heavy curtains that blocked the sunlight and no statues of important looking men and women that had died a long time before. Everything was very modern and, at least for the most part, tasteful which would likely come as a surprise to those that had known Tristan before he had become a duke.

Somewhere nearby Murphy could hear the laughter of a child, the bark of a dog and the voice of a man, and then a door opened, and down the hallway, towards him walked – the duke himself who had a wide smile on his face and was dressed in a fashionable dark blue suit.

Tristan knew that most dukes wouldn’t welcome a guest that was not of noble birth like that, but he didn’t care. He had a pair of perfectly functioning legs, and he would feel stupid (and bored) if he sat in his dining room and waited for somebody to bring Murphy to him.

“Mister Clyde”, he said and extended his hand for the other man to shake it. “I’m glad that you accepted my invitation, and I hope that you had a pleasant journey. Shall we?”
Last edited by Tristan Venora on Sun Mar 11, 2018 6:21 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 773
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Murphy Clyde
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Dinner with the Duke

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Murphy wasn't exactly certain how he should feel about Duke Tristan Venora. The Settlements had done perfectly well without any noble influences in the past, and the Clyde business's had flourished under centuries of their own determination. The larger merchant families had been murmuring their displeasure at the Dukes arrival amongst themselves, and even Murphy had begun to feel some of anti-noble sentiment that had been stirring. As such, he'd been unsure what to do with the invitation to dinner. "Uhh..." He mumbled rather eloquently, dressed in muddy breechers with his glasses hanging lopsided in his hurry to push them onto his face. He scanned the letter again, mouth twisting unpleasantly as he darted his gaze up to the man before him. His mother would be irate no doubt, and if the letter had found its way to her instead, the servant would have no doubt found it torn to shreds and flung back in his face. Murphy was, for the most part, at a loss. He'd never personally met Tristan Venora, but he'd met Oliver, who'd been friendly and kind. "I... Sure. Sounds good." He decided finally, the words starting hesitant, but ending up firm and sure. It can't hurt to learn more about this man, regardless of whether or not I end up liking him. He thought to himself, smiling and nodding as the servant accepted his reply and made his leave. Sighing, Murphy turned and made his way back to the barn, folding his glasses and slipping them back into his breast pocket. "What was all that about?" Geo asked, half occupied by the mare in front of him, very carefully picking burr weeds out of the Goldbloods tail. "Dinner." Murphy grunted back, rubbing a hand over his face. "Can I borrow a suit?"
By the time he'd reached the manor, Murphy was well and truly lost for words. It was unlike any building he'd seen, noble or not, and he couldn't help but gape up at the incredible workmanship before him as he drew his Destrier to a stop, the huge horse complying easily and holding perfectly still as the somewhat hesitant servant relieved Murphy of his reins. Murphy murdered his thanks, eyeing the young man carefully as he allowed his horse to be lead away, attempting to assess the mans horsemanship skills merely from the way he lead the warhorse. It wasn't a particularly successful attempt.

He couldn't help but quirk a brow at the bowing, moving through the door stiffly, feeling quite awkward and out of place, smoothing a hand nervously down the front of his grey suit jacket. The maids had nearly murdered him when he'd asked if they would alter it for him, but they had managed in time, taking in the shoulders and shortening the sleeves. Geovanno Clyde was a broad, strong man, and perhaps one day Murphy would be able to match his physique, but he certainly fell short at present. Left to wait, Murphy took the opportunity to glance around, taking in the strange but pleasant decor and architecture of the room, so unique that Murphy found himself a little confused in seeing it all. But it leant to a comfortable, welcoming atmosphere, and despite himself Murphy could feel the muscles in his back and shoulders unwinding from their purposefully rigid set.

He schooled his impressed expression quickly when the duke arrived, and worked to keep his face politely blank, as he'd been instructed in almost every noble setting he'd ever attended. Tristan was younger than he'd thought, around his own age, if not even younger, but besides that he fit the bill of a noble fairly well; well dressed and carrying himself with the perfect posture. Murphy felt every bit the hayseed before him, but he did his best not to let it show, squaring his shoulders and returning the handshake with a polite nod. "Thank you for the invite, Duke Venora. You have a brilliant home." He started, speaking carefully, wary of saying something dim and embarrassing himself. "The ride was a good one, perfect weather for riding actually." he feel into step beside Tristan, following as he lead the way. "Forgive me if it's too forward, but I can't help but wonder why you've invited me and not my mother." He started as the walked, unable to help himself. The nobles motivations had been nagging at him since receiving the letter, and Murphy doubted he'd be able to deal with the suspicions much longer if he didn't figure out what the Venora expected to get out of having him there.

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Tristan Venora
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Dinner with the Duke

Tristan breathed a sigh of relief when Murphy returned his handshake and smiled. He had half feared that the man would take the opportunity to stick a knife into his chest or just refuse the handshake and let him know that he had only accepted his visit because he had been told to. “I’m glad that you like my house”, he remarked. “I like it as well. I didn’t want to live in another centuries old castle that is impossible to keep warm in winter. If you want to, I can give you a tour after dinner. I could also show you the stables. From what I heard, you breed horses”, he added. Murphy wanted to know why Tristan had invited him and not his mother though, and Tristan thought a bit about how he should answer and came to the decision that it would be best to be honest.

“I considered inviting your mother“, he thus admitted and gestured for Murphy to walk with him. “Actually I considered hosting a dinner party for the heads of all the merchant families in the Eastern Settlement to give them the opportunity to get to know me better, but then I realized that doing such might be counter-productive and risky besides. To be honest, I don’t care much for all the plotting and scheming that occurs when you put a dozen powerful people into a room together either. At the same time I’m aware that I need to forge closer ties with the people that have been taking care of this land for ages if I want to make it here.”

“So I invited you. From what I heard about you, you are rather straight-forward which is a character trait that I like. You are also close to my own age which will hopefully make talking to you easier. At the same time you are the heir of the Clyde family and will likely be in a rather powerful position a couple of arcs from now. Does that answer your question? Is that a good enough reason?”
He looked at Murphy hopefully and secretly wondered if he had sounded sufficiently like a proper politician and if he had been talking too much. He often talked too much. There had been a time, when he had worked for the theatre, when people had paid money to hear him talk.

“I promise I’ll make your visit worthwhile. I had my cook prepare a delicious meal for us, and I’ll answer all your questions – truthfully, if I can, because I don’t want to begin this here with a lie. I’m sure that you have a few”, he told Murphy and added, “I’m aware that a lot of people here don’t like me or the king.” They were walking down the hallway to his private dining room now. The Clyde heir could see that there were pictures hanging on the walls. They were different from the pictures you would find in a normal noble household. They showed fantastic landscapes, animals that likely only existed in somebody’s imagination as well as strange, geometric shapes.

“I painted some of these pictures myself”, Tristan explained – but he didn’t tell Murphy which ones because he wanted him to guess. “Ah, here we are”, he remarked a moment later and nodded at the woman who guarded the door to the dining room, a pretty redhead named Lianne who had occasionally shared his bed. “After you, Mister Clyde”, he told him. Once they were both inside, Lianne closed the door behind them. They were alone now, but if anything happened Lianne would rush to her employer’s aid.

The dining room was comparatively small – it seemed weird to Tristan to take his guest into a room that was big enough for two dozen people – and it was elegant and modern. The table that stood in the center of the room was made of wood that had been painted white, and had a glass surface. It was surrounded by comfortable looking chairs. The three big windows offered a spectacular view of the garden where Tristan had spent a lot of time with Ayla in the summer. He wondered if Murphy knew about his illegitimate daughter and what he thought of it, but then decided that he didn’t care.

Once they were seated, a servant approached them with a bottle of wine. “The wine comes from the Raglan family here in Oakleigh”, Tristan told Murphy. “I assume that you are familiar with them?”
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Murphy Clyde
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Dinner with the Duke

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Murphy opened his mouth, about to tell Tristan that he wouldn't be in need of a tour, thank you, but he paused at mention of the other man's stables. It wasn't often Murphy got a chance to see another's stable and how they operated, and he was well aware that it was a beneficial chance for him. Tristan was wealthy, and had clearly poured quite a bit of his wealth into his home; Murphy reasoned that it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that he'd done the same with his stable. A stable with no expenses spared was definitely something Murphy wanted to see. "I wouldn't mind seeing you're stables if we have time later." He said finally, voice gruff.

Though he couldn't fault Tristan for not inviting his mother and the other merchant heads to meet with him, not for one moment did Murphy believe that the Venora wasn't fond of or prone to the typical plotting and scheming that the nobles were well renowned for. Nor did he doubt that there would be scheming, no matter how subtle it may be tonight. Murphy couldn't help the speculative expression that came across his face when the Duke began to speak about what he'd heard of him, his suspicions on possible scheming solidified.

"I find it rather hard to believe what you've said about your distaste for scheming, especially after hearing how much thought you've put into why I was the best bet to invite tonight." Murphy replied bluntly, glancing around to eye the other man critically. I'll have to be careful. He thought to himself. I don't trust his intentions, I don't want to be take advantage of just because I'm not politically adept. Murphy fell silent as they walked, and half listened as Tristan went o to speak about dinner and the King. He turned his attention to the paintings as Tristan mentioned them, eyeing them in an attempt to find a difference in quality or skill, hoping it would give a clue to which were by the Duke. Even to his untrained eye he could tell that they were all created by someone with significant skill, just going to show that Tristan had good taste in art and was likely very skilled in it himself. Murphy assessed him once more, taking in his suit and his overall manner. He certainly seemed like the artistic type.

The dining room was nice, but surprisingly understated, Murphy found, and he couldn't help feeling a grudging approval for the choice, no matter how make he wanted to dislike the nobleman. Murphy sat, doing his best to keep the calm, blank expression on his face while surreptitiously taking in the room. He nodded at the servant when he approached with the bottle, glad for something to do with his hands as he took a small sip. "In passing, yeah." He shrugged shortly, though he knew his mother would have nothing short of a full report of the family, including their worth, connections and any potentially shady or shameful dealings she may be aware of. He wasn't one to care. "Their children learnt to ride at our ranch I believe." He provided, though he wasn't exactly certain which of the children, or exactly how long ago that had been. He paused, thoughtfully. "Have you met with any of the other merchant families then?" He asked curiously, not particularly expecting an honest or straightforward response.

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Dinner with the Duke

“You would probably have done the same if you had in my place, Mister Clyde“, Tristan replied. He had to admit that it irked him slightly that Murphy didn’t believe him. He didn’t have any hidden motives, and he wished that the man would realize that, but he didn’t know how to make him change his mind without magic which the king had unfortunately outlawed and which he didn’t have anyway. So he just kept on talking, hoping that at least some of his words would reach him. He was good at talking, at least.

“When your future is at stake, you don’t not think about who would be the best guest to invite. Besides, a proper schemer would never be honest about what they do. So there’s that”, he said and smiled slightly because he had just provided a convincing argument in his opinion. He also briefly wondered whether he should offer to swallow a truth serum – he was pretty sure that he still had one somewhere – but then he came to the conclusion that such would be overkill, at least for now. He’d save the truth serum for later.

“My daughter is almost old enough to learn to ride”, he remarked as Murphy mentioned that the Raglan children had learned to ride at their ranch. “Her name’s Ayla, and I’m still looking for somebody that will teach her. Do you have children, Mister Clyde?” he asked and took a sip from his glass. Children were a safe topic to start a conversation with a somewhat difficult guest – everybody loved talking about their children – besides Murphy’s answer really interested him. He wanted Ayla to have a few playmates from Oakleigh!

“No”, he replied truthfully as Murphy asked him if he had met with any of the other merchant families. “You are my first. I have to admit, I took my time. I was worried about what would happen. As I said, I’m aware that a lot of people in the Eastern Settlement don’t like me and view me as an intruder.”

“I told you that I would answer all your questions”,
he remarked and smirked a little because that was going to be interesting. “So do you have any? You can ask whatever you want. I won’t be offended, I won’t be mad at you, I won’t refuse to answer. You can of course also just tell me something that you think I need to know …”

He paused as the same servant as before entered the room again, carrying a silver tray. He set a small plate that was filled with salmon roe as well as pieces of yellowtail that were decorated with basil down in front of both Murphy and Tristan. As the guest Murphy was of course served first. “They call these things amuse-bouche”, Tristan remarked and speared a piece of fish with his fork. “The next course will be soup, I believe. I hope it's to your liking. I told the cook to use as many local ingredients as possible.”
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Re: Dinner with the Duke



Review Is In!
Tristan
Knowledge:
Acting: Sounding like a proper politician
Etiquette: The guest receives their food first
Politics: Talking to your subjects
Politics: Treating important guests well
Persuasion: Persuading your subjects to like you better
Persuasion: Trying to convince someone that you are not scheming
Socialization: Welcoming a guest
Socialization: Children are usually a safe topic to talk about

Loot:X
Injuries:X
Renown: 10 for a important guest visiting

Points:15 May not be used for Magic


It is always sad when a thread dies young. It is nice to see more noble themes in a thread some times. I also enjoyed how Murphy gave a good conflict of whether to go or not to dinner. Tristan is a lot more polite then normal nobles, but that is what is good about him. It is important that a Marquis tries to gain favor of the merchants to keep their lands wealthy and in order. Wish there was more, but I enjoyed what I read.

Any injures are based on a 1d100 roll using applicable skills
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