• Closed • [Oakleigh] It's Just Business

[Damon Andaris]

18 Ashan 717

"Do I have to, though?"

Rafael rolled his eyes. "Yes, Damon, you have to." The old man had a great deal of patience for Damon Andaris, something very few people in his family did. Perhaps it was because Rafael spent most days with the boy, and could see that despite his substance addiction, there was a good heart underneath. The thing was, very few people ever bothered to give Damon a chance once they realised he was a drunk. They simply labelled him and moved on. Rafael, on the other hand, seemed more than willing to give Damon a chance. At the very least, he hadn't fired him yet, which was something.

"But Oakleigh is so far away," Damon moaned, knocking his forehead against the mahogany counter they kept in the main room of the Andaris Gala and Winery. "Why can't you do it? You know I'm bad with people!"

"Because, as I've said already, I'm old, and what I tell you to do you do." Rafael walked around the counter, putting a hand on Damon's shoulder. Damon turned his head to look at the man's face, and despite the stern tone, there was a gentle shine to his eyes. "You can do this, Damon. Besides, think how happy your father will be that you are meeting with a Venora - of your own volition, no less."

This was true. Though it was more likely to be his mother that approved of Damon getting out and actually interacting with the nobles of Rynmere, convinced as she was that Damon was a slacker with no ambition. "Fine," he muttered, standing up and collecting his coat. "I'll leave in the morning. But I'm taking my reevi with me." Damon stomped to the exit, and swung the door open, ready to go home for the trial.

"I wouldn't expect it any other way," Rafael called behind him, with a chuckle in his voice. The door slammed shut, and Damon walked out into the Andaris streets, a scowl on his face.
The carriage ricketed along, and Damon blew smoke out the window as they passed on the long journey to Oakleigh. The reevi was helping him calm his nerves, and he was running over in his mind everything Rafael had told him about his assignment. The new Duke of Oakleigh, Tristan Venora, with access to a beautiful vineyard, and wine the Andaris Winery did not yet possess. Damon had never met Tristan, not in person, though he was sure they had seen each other across the rooms at events once or twice. A handsome man, he recalled, with beautiful dark hair. Something about being a sculptor, too, that he recalled.

The carriage slowed as they approached the estate. Throwing the roach out the window, Damon took a deep breath, before standing and making his way out of the carriage, blinking in the sudden afternoon sunlight. The estate was beautiful, indicative of the wealth the Venoras had, and Damon could see the vineyard off in the distance. Swallowing, he stamped down his anxiety which threatened to rise bile in his throat. He could do this. This was easy. It was simply a business deal and nothing more.

Besides, Tristan was sure to let him try some of the wine. He couldn't buy a product without knowing what it was like, after all.

Damon approached the grand doors, swinging on the knocker, before a man servant opened the door. Damon was about to introduce himself, but the servant spoke first. "M'lord Andaris," he said, with a low bow. "If you would follow me." Damon paused, shrugged, a little off put by the overeager service, but he followed the servant through the house into a sitting room. "Master Venora will be with you soon. May I get you anything?"

Immortals yes. "Red wine, if you have it," he said, trying not to seem overeager. The servant rose his eyebrows, before nodding and exiting the room with a murmured, of course. It was only after he had left the room that Damon realised what he had said. It was a vineyard. Of course they had fucking red wine.[/color]

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[Tristan Venora]

He should probably change his last name soon, Tristan decided as he got ready for the meeting with his newest visitor. The king had pretty much told him to, and he mostly understood why, but ‘Venora’ sounded so much better than ‘Oakleigh’ in his opinion. Well, at least he had gotten a duchy, a nice new house and a couple of servants in exchange for taking on a name that he wasn’t particularly fond of, he thought and left his room to look for the sitting room. He had only moved in very recently, and the house was bigger than his old one, so he got lost of course, went through the wrong door and suddenly found himself in the kitchen where he had to ask the cook who looked pretty shocked and bowed hurriedly for directions.

The man that he would be meeting that trial was a certain Damon Andaris, a wine merchant that had come to do business with Oakleigh which was something that he was actually pretty excited about since it would probably mean an opportunity to honor Ilaren. He remembered meeting Damon on a couple of occasions when he had been younger (although he was still pretty young now). He reminded him of his favourite cousin, Andráska, minus the knight part. At least he didn’t think that Damon Andaris was a knight – unless he had learned to use a weapon in the meantime and become a master warrior?

Ah, there it was. He reached the door to the sitting room at the same time as one of the servants who carried a bottle of fine wine in his hands. Both duke and servant looked at each other for a moment, and then Tristan extended his hand. “Give the bottle to me, please. I’ll take care of Lord Andaris myself”, he informed him and briefly wondered if that was appropriate for a man in his position before he decided that he didn’t care. He was a duke now, and he had promised Cassander that he would do his job well and make him proud, but that didn’t mean that he would change his entire personality and become another one of those boring, stuck-up nobles and follow all of their pointless little social rules.

“Lord Andaris”, he greeted Damon as he entered the room because there was a difference between not caring about etiquette and being downright impolite to your guest – the latter was never a good idea, especially not if you were in a position of power and had gotten there in a somewhat unusual manner. “Let me welcome you to Oakleigh! How are you? Did you have a good trip?” he asked, plopped down on the sofa next to Damon and poured each of them a glass of wine before he leaned back, draping an arm across the backrest as he did so.

The Andaris would have the opportunity to take a closer look at Rynmere’s newest duke then. Tristan was younger than him by an arc or two, with dark hair, pale skin and brilliant blue eyes, and he was dressed in a tasteful dark suit and a shirt that was the exact color of his eyes.

He had, briefly, considered putting on suit that was made entirely out of feathers because feathers were in fashion at the moment, and he strived to be fashionable, but then he had come to the conclusion that it might scare his guest, and he didn’t want Damon to run away screaming when he needed to do business with him.

“I thought we’d have a bit of fun before we start to talk about the reason for your visit”, he remarked, grinned and raised his glass. “The wine’s from Oakleigh. I used to only drink Venoran wine, but a duke should favour the products of his duchy, shouldn’t he?”

“If you want to, I can have a servant bring us some snacks as well. Tell me what you think of the wine though. You are the expert here. I just get drunk occasionally.”

[Damon Andaris]

Damon was so caught up in the embarrassment of asking such a stupid question that he almost did not hear Tristan enter the room. However, at the greeting, Damon whirled around, shooting a flustered grin to him. "Lord Venora," he said, inclining his head to the man. "Or is it Lord Oakleigh now?" He asked the question casually, but it was legitimate. Everything had changed so much lately; there had been so many upheavals in Rynmere Damon could barely keep up with them.

Damon took a seat next to Tristan on the sofa, and took a good look at his host. Tristan was pretty, slender with dark features set in pale skin. Damon swallowed, before engaging in social niceties as was expected of someone of his stature. "Thank you," he murmured, before answering the other questions. "The trip was long but comfortable. Worth it, though, to see this beautiful estate." Damon cringed internally at his own words. They sounded so stilted, so formal. He felt like he was stifled in this room, with these clothes, with these polite words that meant so little. "How are you finding your new lands?"

Damon murmured his thanks, and tried not to seem too eager to reach forward for the wine. He raised his glass as Tristan did his, and could not help but utter his usual phrase. "Ilaren give us good health," and he drank of the wine, deeply. Swallowing, he glanced down to his own hand, where the lightning scar spindled around his wrist and fingers, wondering if Tristan would notice or think him odd.

"It's always good to expand our interests a little. And I'm sure Oakleigh will produce some excellent vintages." Damon nodded, before bringing the glass up to his lips. "It's always fun to get drunk," he said, grinning. "But sometimes it's a waste of good wine to do so." Damon swirled the glass, before bringing it to his nose, the curvature of the glass trapping the scents. "Good legs," he remarked. "High in tannins, I'm guessing." He took a long inhale, letting the heady senses overwhelm him. "Cranberry, definitely. Some oak flavours, too." The wine did smell delicious, but so far, it wasn't any better than any of the Andaris wines they had back at the winery.

Finally, he took a long sip, swirling the wine in his mouth before swallowing. The wine dripped down his throat, and it coated his tongue with a dry flavour. The taste lingered for a few moments, ending in a bitter, but pleasant taste. "It's good. Dry. Alcoholic. I'm guessing a lot of the alcohol is still in the wine? Not too sweet. Good with strong meats." Damon smiled at Tristan. "I'm alright for snacks, but I won't say no to another glass of Oakleigh's finest."

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[Tristan Venora]

“At the moment I’m still Tristan Venora, I think, but I will eventually be Lord Oakleigh”, Tristan replied as Damon asked him if it was Lord Venora or Lord Oakleigh now and furrowed his brow a little before he offered, “If all that naming business is too confusing for you, you can just call me Tristan. We are of a similar age, and we are alone, so I don’t see why we have to keep up all the formalities. Unless the servants are listening at the door?” He turned his head towards the door and pretended to check, and then he laughed. “No, I don’t think they are”, he concluded. “Besides, the door is so thick that they would probably only understand a small part of what we are saying anyway.”

“As for how I’m finding my new lands”, he continued. “I like Oakleigh. I’m not sure if the feeling is mutual though”, he admitted and shrugged his shoulders. He was quite aware that Cassander’s decision to bring the Eastern Settlement closer to Rynmere and turning it into a couple of duchies was a controversial one, to put it mildly. Truth to be told, he was surprised that the merchant families and whatever other people lived here hadn’t started a rebellion yet, but he didn’t want to worry about it at the moment.

“I already am in good health”, he remarked as he raised his glass. “So I’ll just toast to Ilaren instead!” Having said that, he took a large gulp before he put the glass down again and looked at Damon thoughtfully. He’d noticed the mark.

“You know”, he said. The tone of his voice was strangely wistful for a moment before he smiled all over his face. “I met her once. Ilaren. She blessed you, didn’t she? I was in the Blacksmith Arms that night. She joined me, and we drank together, and then she went for a walk with me. She accompanied me home and stayed with me. I’ve never met a more beautiful woman in my entire life.”

To a halfway intelligent man it would be obvious what he’d meant, although he had avoided the words “slept with me” on purpose. He wasn’t bashful – on the contrary! – but he cared about Ilaren and saw her as more than just his newest conquest. She was simply awesome, and he didn’t want her to think that he was bragging about what he had done with her, on the off chance that she was somehow watching him and listening to what he said. He wanted to see her again!

“How did you meet her?” he wanted to know.

“Anyway, I dare to disagree”, he continued once he had given Damon enough time to reply and took a sip from his glass. “It’s more fun to get drunk when the wine’s good. I just don’t like cheap alcohol!” He shuddered in a somewhat exaggerated manner.

Damon had an unusual way of drinking wine, and an even more unusual way of describing it, Tristan decided. He’d just wanted to know what he thought, and Damon had started to talk about legs and meats and all that other stuff that didn’t make much sense and that nearly made Tristan roll his eyes because it seemed completely superfluous to him.

“Have you ever thought that wine language is weird?” he wanted to know and raised the bottle to refill Damon’s glass. “Why talk about legs and meats when wine can’t walk and doesn’t contain any meat?” The thought that somebody was probably dumping stuff that didn’t belong there – including animal body parts - into their wine somewhere occurred to him, but surely the Raglans wouldn’t do that, would they?

[Damon Andaris]

Damon watched Tristan carefully as he chatted away. For a noble, and even more so, for a Venora, Tristan was oddly chatty. Where was the tension, the formality? It was easier so far than he had expected, as all they had done was chat lightly about the surrounding areas. Although Tristan seemed to hint at the tensions in the area, which surprised Damon even more. Still. He was grateful he was not doing business with one of the stuffy nobles far too focused on tradition.

"Tristan it is, then," Damon said, smiling slightly. "And feel free to call me Damon." And yet, Damon nearly coughed, his cheeks colouring, his mouth nearly dropping open. This man - this noble - had met Ilaren? Had slept with her, by his own insinuation? An odd, hot feeling rose through him suddenly, and it took a moment for Damon to recognise what it was - jealousy. Pure jealousy. His eyes searched Tristan's hands for a mark, but found none. So Ilaren had found this man worthy, did she? Damon was not likely to doubt anything Ilaren chose to do, but still, some part of him wanted to stand and ram his fist into Tristan's face.

He took a moment, closed his eyes, breathed deep. And then took another large gulp of wine to calm him. He wished more than anything to light another joint, but he could not. Ilaren, fuck, help me not do anything stupid, he prayed, and he almost could hear her answering fond chuckle, a warmest of memories, in his mind. "Sounds like an amazing night," he said, opening his eyes, though his voice was slightly strained.

"I met her there, too. When she blessed me as one of her own." There was a challenge in his voice; an insinuation that while Ilaren might have shared her bed with him, Damon had been chosen as one of her blessed. "A fight with a childhood acquaintance. Ilaren found me worthy. She said she liked me." That last comment was almost a challenge - she liked him. She'd said she did! That had to mean something.

Shaking his head, Damon turned his attention back to the wine. The real reason he was here. "Cheap alcohol can be unpleasant," he conceded, "but with really good wine you want to savour it. Enjoy every drop, every flavour."
He nodded his head in thanks as Tristan refilled the glass. "Yes, wine language can be strange, but it's like any craft. It's learning it. You see, wine isn't just red or white, sweet or dry. It's got flavours. There is a lot of depth to wine, and with training, you can learn to recognise it. It's most of what I do in my work." Damon wanted more than anything for the conversation to steer clear of Ilaren lest he let his anger get the best of him. "Would you like to learn? It seems to me that here in Oakleigh it would be a valuable skill to have."

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[Tristan Venora]

“It was“, Tristan agreed with a smile on his face as Damon remarked that it sounded like an amazing night. He would definitely remember it for the rest of his life. He had noticed the other man’s reaction to his revelation of course – only a blind man wouldn’t have done so - but he decided not to comment on it. Instead he said, “I’m glad that she liked you and blessed you, and I hope that you’ll get to know her a whole lot better in the future. There was a time when I wanted to have her blessing as well – when I would have done anything to get it – but being her servant would be kind of weird now, you know? I can’t stop seeing her as the woman I met in the Blacksmith Arms.”

He pretty much ignored Damon’s challenge. He wasn’t jealous at all that Ilaren apparently also liked him, whatever that meant. People were allowed to like more than one person and even have more than one lover in his opinion. He had never been particularly jealous of anybody – he just didn’t see the point in such a feeling and wasn’t very good at it either – apart from Padraig because Padraig was so uncreative and boring that the very sight of him made him want to fall asleep. The terrible tutor just didn’t deserve a woman like Faith in his opinion. He’d almost dropped a sculpture on his head once.

Another man would probably have pointed out that, while Ilaren hadn’t blessed him, Zanik had definitely done so, but Tristan didn’t because it was kind of obvious since a subtle golden aura often surrounded him these trials (although he did wonder when Damon would finally notice it). Where was Zanik by the way? He hadn’t seen the Immortal of Seduction, Strength and Music since the premiere of his play, a few seasons before. He briefly wondered if he should write him and ask him how he was doing because he was kind of worried about him – did Immortals have an address, like normal people, and how did you find out where they lived? – and then he laughed and shook his head because Zanik was probably just busy and not in trouble and focused his attention on Damon again.

Unlike Damon’s voice Tristan’s voice wasn’t strained at all. He was completely calm and relaxed, and he was even enjoying himself – a lot more than he had expected. “I know that wine isn’t just red or white”, he remarked and drank from his glass again. “And that not every red wine tastes the same. I’ve drunk enough wine in the past couple of arcs! Why legs though?” he asked again because it still didn’t make any sense to him. “And if wine has legs, does it have feet and toes and knees and such as well?”

“Anyway”, he continued. “I would love to learn! What do you want from me in return?” he wanted to know because nothing in life was ever completely free, besides it would probably be a good idea if they started to talk about business soon, before they were too drunk to do so or care much about it. His glass was already almost empty!

[Damon Andaris]

Damon moved on from speaking about Ilaren. Usually he loved to talk about his Immortal, especially while drinking alcohol. But for now, it would be better to leave that topic alone. Jealousy was not becoming for business. It would only leave to trouble.

"No payment in return," Damon said, shaking his head. "But as a Duke of this region, it really would be better for you to know how to talk about wine. But before that," he leaned forward, placing his glass on the table. "I was sent here for a reason, after all, and my boss would not be happy if I came back only having drunk the wine and not bought it." Damon paused for a moment, thought about how to phrase this. For a wine merchant, business was not his strong suit.

"The Andaris Winery would like to purchase some of Oakleigh's wine, in order to promote your region. We do find, of course, that our customers prefer Andaris wine - no offence meant," and he flashed an appeasing smile to Tristan, "but it can be good to have a variety of wines stocked. We'd like forty bottles of a selection of reds - perhaps a cab sav, a merlot, and a shiraz - and forty of a selection of whites. A sav blanc, pinot grigio, and some riesling, perhaps. Additionally, twenty bottles of a rose varietal. Would this work for you?" Damon waited for Tristan to let him know how much wine he could supply, and how much it was cost.

"Sorry," Damon apologised, quickly. "Once we've done this, we can get to the fun stuff. Like getting drunk and explaining why legs are important in wine."

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[Tristan Venora]

Tristan frowned momentarily as Damon talked about their customers preferring Andaris wine. He’d drunk it on occasion and it wasn’t too bad – in fact it was perfectly tolerable - but Venora wine was so much better, and Oakleigh wine was the best of course because he was the Duke of Oakleigh, and being a Duke was just plain awesome!

Then the other man mentioned just how many bottles they wanted to buy though, and the frown disappeared, and Tristan’s eyes lit up as if he had been given a great gift. He did briefly wonder if the Raglans could supply that many bottles, and then he came to the conclusion that they probably could of course because they owned the biggest vineyard in the area.

“That”, he thus replied and drank the rest of his wine before it became lukewarm because lukewarm wine was disgusting in his opinion. “Shouldn’t be a problem. How soon do you need the bottles? As for the price, I’m afraid I can’t tell you how much exactly the wine will cost because I don’t have the price list here, and I unfortunately don’t know it by heart yet either, so how about you tell me how much you would be willing to spend?”

“If it’s not enough, I’ll just pay for the rest myself and send you the bottles for free. I don’t mind spending my own money if it helps promote Oakleigh. I’ll even have the bottles delivered in especially nice boxes.” He grinned as he said that, and then he eyed the bottle in front of him because all that talk about different kinds of wine had made him thirsty again. He wondered how the Raglans got any work done, being the owners of a big vineyard. How did they resist the temptation? Maybe they just hired teetotalers to work for them?

“So”, he remarked, perhaps wrongly assuming that they were done. “What about legs and getting drunk?”

[Alistair]

Tristan

Knowledges
Etiquette: Welcoming a noble visitor
Etiquette: Wearing appropriate clothing
Linguistics: Certain names just sound better!
Linguistics: The language of wine
Linguistics: Certain terms just don't make sense!
Politics: I should probably change my name to "Oakleigh" sometime
Politics: Have fun first, talk about politics later
Politics: Doing business with a fellow noble
Seduction: You are allowed to have more than one lover

Damon Andaris: Wine merchant
Damon Andaris: Blessed of Ilaren

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: Slight (+5)

Points 15

Comments: Reading these threads is reminding me of old Rynmere, in the good days. Makes me a bit sad. haha
Anyway, good writing. I think Damon and Tristan had a compelling dynamic, and I would have liked to see them write more! A shame the thread was abandoned.

Also, don't let him insult Oakleigh wine. It may as well be Venoran - and our vintage is the best!

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