[Oakleigh] Horses of Course

[Murphy Clyde]

36th of Zi'da, 717

"That one Lou. And the Elite as well." Murphy directed, scratching thoughtfully at his stubbly cheek as he walked slowly through the main stable, Lou, the head groom, at his side with a clipboard. "No doubt the Venora will want to see the best we have. Make sure to send a stableboy to escort that stallion though, he's worth his weight in gold." Lou nodded, jotting down the notes and catching the attention of a stable boy as he passed. "Does he want to see the Destriers as well Murphy?" Lou wondered, glancing up from his papers. Murphy paused, head tilted thoughtfully. "I'm not sure... Are the mares still out in the small paddock?" Lou nodded, stopping next to Murphy as the merchant paused. "Good, make sure they're left there, if he's interested they'll be close enough to walk a few over. Make sure we have a spare stable boy, just in case we need to do so" He decided, glancing over his shoulder distractedly as the sound of skipping approached them.

"What are you doing?" Lydia pestered, bouncing after Murphy, peering around him as he made his way slowly through the stables, checking over the Goldblood's he planned to show their visitor. "Take this one out to the front paddock too, Lou." Murphy directed, looking straight over the top of Lydia's blonde head to speak instead to the head groom. "Murrphhhy!" She whined, pulling at his wrist. "Can I come meet him? What does he look like? Is he handsome? Is he looking for a wife?" She jabbered, buzzing with energy as she hurried after Murphy's longer strides. The first born Clyde heaved a long suffering sigh, glancing over his shoulder at his youngest sister. "I don't know Lyd's... He's a Venora." He shrugged, letting young girl think of it as she wished. "And no, you can't come meet him. He's here to buy a horse, not to have a thirteen year old attempt to court him." Lydia gaped at him, clearly greatly offended. "I would do no such thing!" She squealed, face steadily turning red. Murphy groaned, sensing a tantrum on the horizon, and raised his hands in what he hoped was a calming manner. "You can watch from the front window if you wish. And when I take him to the paddock you can come out on the porch, but no closer!" He allowed instead, relieved when, after a long moment, Lydia nodded, sprinting back to the main house without a word.

Shaking his head, Murphy turned back to Lou, who had watched the exchange with a knowing smirk. "Any other's, Murphy?" he asked with a barely suppressed laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Murphy shook his head at the younger man, a light flush creeping over his cheeks. "No, thanks Lou. Could you take two of the good saddles out though? He may want a ride." Lou snorted, but nodded none the less, and Murphy pretended he didn't hear the groom chuckle a comment about nobles always wanting a ride. Clearing his throat, Murphy turned quickly, making his way out of the stabbles and towards the front of the house. He took his place at the manors front steps to wait, his back straight and hands by his side, doing his best to ignore the preteen primping and preening in the windows behind him, and the handsome young groom working in the adjacent paddock.

[Oliver Venora]

36 Zi'da 717

Oliver yawned, the long trip in the carriage causing his back to ache and his eyes to threaten to fall heavily downward. The majority of the ride was smooth, but with Gustauv in the seat beside him, instead of driving the carriage, the ride was not as smooth as it could have been. Every time they hit a bump, the carriage driver called back a "Surreh, melorts". It caused a grin, but the amusement was starting to wear thin.

Gustauv, the old lump, had slept the majority of the rides. His snores pushed his little white whiskers in and out, and Oliver made a game out of trying to time them, the rhythm nearly lulling him to sleep too. Instead, he took to looking out the window, the cold air passing them by and seeping in through the heavy velvet that he'd pushed aside. He didn't mind the cold, but every now and then, the snoring would stop and Gustauv's grunt would sound amusingly like, "Ziell's balls." For the Rynlist in him, Oliver had to admit his Immortals-based swears were choice.

Finally, though, the carriage rolled within sight of the ranch, and the driver called back as much. Straightening his back, Oliver stretched his arms as much as he could, planting a hairy forearm almost directly into Gustauv's open mouth. The man sputtered and cursed, snapping to consciousness quickly. He glared at Oliver for the briefest trill before remembering his station in life, but Oliver knew he was grumbling silently. He winked at the man.

"Copper nel for your thoughts?" He grinned cheekily, catching Gustauv's glare again, The aging servant knew Oliver well enough to know that he could have spoken his mind without fear of repercussion, but he did not. Gustauv was one of Oliver's closest companions, and the man would only speak ill of him in the right ears so as to undermine his efforts... The thought made Oliver grin again. Gustauv was a loyal servant and a great friend, and he was glad the manservant had chosen to accompany him. As the carriage drew still outside the ranch, the name Clyde sprung to Oliver's mind. He could not recall them all, but Gustauv had assured him he would be dealing with the eldest son, and heir, Murphy. A good, strong Ryn name if Oliver had ever heard one, it conjured the image of a beefy lumberjack, swinging an axe. Smiling as he stepped from the carriage, before Gustauv, Oliver offered to help the older man down.

"My lord..." He began to protest, but Oliver shushed him. He helped him down, listening to creaking of the older man's bones. Oliver, ever young and spry, stretched the travel from his limbs, shaking them as Gustauv grunted and hobbled on aching joints. Smiling, Oliver danced around him, taunting him.

"Don't break a hip, old man," he teased, before looking up to see Murphy coming out to meet them. Still smiling, Oliver straightened his posture and began his trek to the manor house. With Gustauv striding uncomfortably at his side, they approached the young merchant's son with a polite wave.

"Mr. Clyde?" He asked, ensuring that the man was whom he thought. It would be embarrassing to begin addressing a stablehand as if he were master of the house, and Oliver needed to avoid any faux pas. Holding a strong, clean hand out, he shook Murphy's hand with his own. "Oliver." He specifically left his last name off, hoping for Murphy to just call him Oliver.

"I'm told you have golden horses. I have got to see that." He grinned, the excitement of a schoolboy prevalent in his carefully crafted composure.

[Murphy Clyde]

Murphy perked to attention as the carriage came trundeling to a stop, plastering on a lopsided, welcoming grin and shaking the nobleman's hand with thinly concealed relief. For a moment he had panickedly wondered if he'd be required to bow, and his mind had scrambled to recall the proper way, lest he make a fool of himself. Releasing a held breath he nodded to the noble man. "A pleasure Oliver, we're glad to have you visiting with us." He replied. With a quick glance Murphy took in the other man; tall and wide of shoulders, but impeccably groomed and put together, wearing only the finest garb. Comparatively, Murphy felt outclassed. In place of his usual work wear, he'd worn good his good riding clothes, neat and clean, though he'd kept clear of anything that would be impractical or expensive; after all, he was still to be working. Tugging at his jacket, Murphy slipped his hands into his pockets, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his head, his mother reminding him it was impolite to do such a thing.

Murphy grinned brightly. "I can assure you, my family breeds the best horses in all of the Eastern Settlements, and I'd wager in Rynmere too. This ranch was established four generations ago, and we've been refining our stock ever since. The horses you'll see today are the result of hundreds of arcs of selectively breeding." Murphy all but gushed, his face alight with passion. "I've brought out a good variety of our Goldbloods, the grading of which I'll explain soon enough, and we have some of the Destriers that you can view as well." As Murphy spoke he gestured to each respective paddock, careful not to glance in the direction, lest Lou act a fool and tease or embarrass him in some way, as he usually did. Murphy would rather not blush like a schoolgirl while in the presence of a Rynmere Noble. "But, before we get to that; we have the sitting room set with tea and coffee, and rooms set up for you and your man; you're both welcome to take your time and rest before we show the horses, or we could get straight down to business."

[Oliver Venora]

36 Zi'da 717

It was a bold move, telling a noble of Rynmere that your family breeds the finest horses in the Kingdom. It was no secret that Lei'lira Warrick was also a horse-breeder, and the Warrick girl's skill had been lauded for arcs. In addition, but Oliver was dating Lei'lira's cousin, though he doubted Murphy knew that. Still, the remark caused a smile to blossom over the man's face, lighting it up at the breeder's not-so-subtle declaration of his family's prowess. How very Venoran of him.

"The best horses in the Kingdom? I'm certain that boast will hold true," Oliver said through a grin, no sarcasm at all evident in his voice. Reaching a hand out to pat Gustauv on the back, Oliver nodded for the refreshments.

"Mr. Clyde, this is Gustauv Aurein. Gustauv has been a close friend of mine nearly my whole life, and I'm sure that he'd enjoy nothing less than a nice cup of tea after the arduous journey," Oliver said, beaming at Gustauv. The older man nodded and smiled, bowing his head slightly.

"Ah, yes, please. The journey took quite a lot out of me," Gustauv agreed, stepping beside Oliver as Murphy led them inside. Oliver peered around, observing the grounds and estate as they walked, being led to a rumpous room for the refreshments. Not overly lavish, the Clyde estate was one of pragmatism, something the Venoran man knew only a modicum of. Gustauv's stiffness was still evident, and Oliver couldn't help but grin at the man's obvious signs of aging.

"Getting a little old there, my friend?" Oliver teased, quietly under his breath. Gustauv's glare only made him chuckle, and as they entered the room filled with refreshments, Oliver smiled. The man may be Eastern Settlement, but he obviously knew how to entertain guests.

"Mr. Clyde, tell me. If one were to wish to invest in your endeavors, say a thousand or two nels... Do you think that would entitle one to discounted prices on further horse purchases? Not that I'm looking to raise a stable myself, but my soon-to-be betrothed may have a desire for a golden horse of her own." Oliver smiled, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

[Murphy Clyde]

"Trust me, you won't be disappointed." Murphy replied with the utmost pride, not even entertaining the thought that anything otherwise might be true. He grinned, dipping his head in return to Gustauv. "No problem at all! Come on through, I'll show to the sitting room. Make sure you help yourself to the spread." Murphy called the words over his shoulder as he turned, leading them inside. Lydia was waiting for them in the sitting room, practically bouncing with excitement as they entered. "Well met, Lord Venora!" She chirped, dipping into a perfectly practiced curtsey. Murphy surpressed a groan, though he wasn't particularly surprised to see Lydia wilfully ignore his earlier instructions. "Allow me to introduce my youngest sister, Lydia." He announced, tone resigned and annoyance prickling at Lydia's self satisfied expression. "Lydia, would you care to help fix Mr Aurein a cup of tea. " Murphy suggested, frowning at the girl until she huffed and gave up her attempt to join the conversation.

"I fear you have quite the fan in that one." Murphy murmured to Oliver once she was out of ear shot, shaking his head with an amused smile. As irritating as she could be, Murphy did adore his little sister. Murphy turned his attention back to the business at hand as Oliver began to speak again, his expression going from entertained to surprised. "Uh, well yes, I'd say such a generous investment would assure you more than just a horse for your fiance." Murphy started, so surprised that he was for a moment at a loss for what to say. "My family has a small ranch in Venora, as you may already know, and while we don't keep any Goldblood stock there, I dare say such an investment would grant you and your fiance the right to use our facilities there whenever you may need. And of course I'd be happy to show you our high-end Goldblood stock, for you to take your pick of." Murphy continued, nearly at a loss. Immortals, should such a deal go through! He thought, nearly dazed. Mother'll never doubt me again!

[Oliver Venora]

36 Zi'da 717

Oliver noted the distaste that flashed across Gustauv's face as Mr. Clyde turned and pushed through the door before the two of them. How often had he slapped Oliver across the hands for being the first through the door when teaching him the proper etiquette of greeting new guests? Oliver, though, could only smile. The Clydes obviously weren't as refined as some of the noble houses of Rynmere, and Oliver honestly preferred the candor of the eldest Clyde's actions. They weren't false, like many of the nobility's actions had been.

Entering the estate, Oliver took a deep breath. Even in the freezing temperatures of Zi'da and Cylus, Notrerevé smelled of flowers and spices. But not this estate. It was earthy, and Oliver loved that. Being greeted by Mr. Clyde's younger sister made the effect even more surreal, and Oliver couldn't help but wear his most radiant smile as the girl boldly introduced herself. Gustauv's natural reaction was to reprimand her for speaking out of turn, but a hand on his shoulder halted the breath in his lungs. He shot a disapproving look at Oliver, who shrugged it off.

"Well met indeed, Lydia. Aren't you the most beautiful thing among an estate of beautiful things," Oliver cooed, smiling at her as if she were the only one he saw. Murphy's insistence on her leaving was cute, as Oliver understood the dynamics of siblings very well. Gustauv forced a smile at the girl's back, but that was all, not murmuring any words of thanks. He at least understood when to speak. Decades of training helped there.

"I am afraid she has quite the fan in me, Mr. Clyde. She is a sharp one, I can tell. She reminds me of my sister, Darcyanna. Precocious and preoccupied. Aren't all girls at her age?" He chuckled and took a glass of fresh water, sipping it with a refreshed sigh. Gustauv eyed the fresh scones on the table, and though he did not reach out, Oliver noticed. "Go on, then, Gustauv." He needed no more prompting.

"I had heard that the Clydes had a small ranch in the Duchy, though I was unsure if the rumours were true. I would be happy to invest there, Mr. Clyde. I am hosting a gala later this season, but I am sure by the end of Cylus, I could have something arranged? Would that be satisfactory?" Oliver asked, taking a scone for himself. When Lydia came back with Gustauv's tea, Oliver made a note to make eye contact with her.

"Thank you, Lydia," he said, winking at her. He awaited her reaction, then turned back to Murphy.