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The Office of Residency
Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:18 pm
by Tyrant
Located just behind Condemnation, it doesn't take an exorbitant amount of time to locate the structure, and a brief mixture of searching and questioning the locals leads you to find the building with relative ease. It is composed entirely of stone, uniformly a dark grey throughout its walls, and then shifting to a far brighter reddish, as though the stonework had been fashioned from clay and then fired into bricks. It doesn't take an expert to realize that the building is likely reaching the end of its life-span, assorted detritus seemingly stuck to its walls, the occasional chunk of stone having been shattered to little more than dust, leaving a thick and traceable indentation where once a uniform strength had remained.
The building is notably unmarked in any traditional sense, no signs or messages are written near its entrance to alert passerby to its presence or purpose, though the locals all seem to be innately familiar with its location and the work that goes on within. Stepping into the structure, you're greeted with a large lobby and the smell of freshly-spilled ink, its a thick scent, assaulting the nostrils and drowning out any other unhappy odor that might have permeated such a confined space. A pair of chairs have been placed outside of the lobby next to what appears to be a rough bulletin board. Documents of various make and literate competency are scattered across the board, highlighting assorted jobs and positions of employment open throughout the city. Several of them are written in a recognizable style, evidence that a third party was responsible for the writing of the pamphlets and notices.
A lonesome hallway leads to a series of offices, their doors all having shuddered for the trial except for one, left open- another wound on any sense of uniformity which one might have found- and which is quickly identified as the source of the scent of spilled ink. Stepping into the room, you're greeted with the familiar sight of a bureaucrat hard at work, his dead-fish eyes glazed over by the extreme monotony of endless piles of documentation. His desk is piled high with papers, several of them laid out in assorted piles in a mockingly sad attempt at organization. There is the constant drip-drip-drip of ink as an upturned bottle spills out onto the floor, and you briefly hope you didn't step in any of the gradually expanding puddle.
It takes the older gentleman several moments to recognize your presence, or perhaps he's merely waiting for you to make the first sound, to give him proper clause to put down the paper. Eventually, his face contorts into a visage of exasperation, and a lonesome, "What?", echoes into existence.
A moment later, he sets down the paper, re-focusing his dead eyes upon you, and gradually sliding over a large document which appears to be covered in numbers, clearly a price listing even with a quick glance. "If you can read, here. If you can't-" A sigh of genuine disappointment, as though he's been placed in the most damnable of situations, "-then I can read it for you. It's a housing paper. Everything you need to find permanent or temporary lodging in our... fair city." He pauses, forcing the words out of his mouth.
The Document
► Show Spoiler
Permanent Residency
Shanty
Poor - 500 GN
Average - 1000 GN
Good - 2000 GN
The Gleam
Poor - 1500 GN
Average - 3000 GN
Good - 5000 GN
Description of Qualities:
Poor - Anything from covered in holes, missing a solid chunk of wall, infested with rodents, or the like. Likely to cave in at the presence of a particularly stiff wind.
Average - Decent. Not covered in obvious severe flaws. Still not particularly nice, but at least a rat isn't going to nibble off your fingers while you sleep. Probably.
Good - The showcase of wealth. Typically exhibits some of the elder architectures of the city. Opulent and fine.
Temporary Residency
Heap - 1 GN a Trial.
Guild Member - 3 GN a Trial
Noble - 5 GN a Trial
Description of Qualities:
Heap - Fit for the housing of a Heap. Livable.
Guild Member - Fit for the housing of a Guild Member. Clean. Hospitable. Found to be suitable to a higher standard of life.
Noble - Fit for the housing of a Noble of Quacia. Extremely capable staff. Very hospitable. Clean beyond what is necessary. The epitome of luxury.
Construction
Typically,
common global prices may be followed for the sake of convention with little change. The primary exception to this is in the cost of Lumber and Lumber-based goods which will typically cost anywhere between six and seven times the normal amount. Construction also requires a permit to be purchased for one-hundred Golden Nels.
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Re: The Office of Residency
Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2018 7:25 pm
by Ivy Gawyne
Ivy had no real reasonable semblance of understanding as to why her parents had forced her into going to Quacia. Not until she herself heard of the strange announcement sent out by the king of the land. Nobles from other areas to act as advisors. And with that little detail, the Gawyne found herself completely understanding just why her parents had given her the order. They hated with all of their being her living conditions within Andaris, though they didn't dare to actually buy her better-living conditions. They weren't terrible people, not by any means. But they were cold, hard and icy like the lands she was born and raised in. If she was to live on her own then she was to earn her own. That didn't stop them from pushing her towards opportunity though, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. They encouraged her to go to parties and rub shoulders with as many other nobles as possible. They pushed her to find a husband out of simple worry. She had two older siblings, but the pair still worried that one day it might come down to Ivy being the next in line. A thought that terrified her without question. She wasn't cut out to be a noble, let alone a high ranking noble. But her parents pushed her, thinking she could still learn. Still piece her own mind back together slowly as she slogged her way through interaction after interaction with people better equipped to deal with these kinds of things than she was. She might have the inquisitive and intelligent nature of a Gawyne but she was in no position to act as any kind of advisor! Her older brother Caius was a far better choice. Hunter was a far better choice. Ivy? She was just broken little Ivy, the child that everyone kept hidden out of embarrassment after her accident. The child that they tried to push right back into the spotlight of noble life after everything was said and done. The child they mourned as though she'd died when everyone realized that the 'old Ivy' wasn't going to be coming back. Of course, she wasn't. That Ivy died in the cave. This Ivy, quiet and meek Ivy, can't fight for her life Ivy, was certain of it.
Yet they still pushed her to act like a noble and find and husband. She knew and understood fully well this was done simply out of parental worry and the hope that one day Ivy would be 'okay' and she'd grow up into someone who could forget a rather dismal childhood. One full of rather unpleasant experience. But, of course, she knew that she couldn't. If she ever got a husband she was fairly certain she'd just end up being scared of the man. Which is what led her to be so fearful of Quacia. It was questionable how her parents knew the king was going to send out an announcement. Maybe they had ears to the ground that allowed them to better guess. Maybe it was just likely and they'd intended to throw her to the wolves. But certainly, by now they'd formed some kind of arrangement and were already looking for potential suitors among the noble population. Her parents thought of the world of Ivy, so for all, she knew they'd try to hook her up with one of the king's own sons. That thought alone worried her far more than anything else about the situation. She parents would have to be insane.
At the very least, maybe she could give it a try. She'd spent so many arcs quaking at her own shadow... maybe, just maybe she could try? And if she messed up, well, there wasn't much left of her for her enemies to hurt.
So that's how she found herself standing in front of a man better described as a corpse. "I'm ah, here for uh, h-housing," she choked out after a couple trills of incredibly awkward eye contact with a man who seemed to wish she'd disappear off the face of the earth. Honestly, she felt the same, so mood. But she was going to be eaten alive here if she couldn't handle this one simple conversation. So she summoned all of her confidence and strength which she used to use in order to handle Val and straightened herself slightly. Truly, if there was one thing she could think the Burham for it was the fact that Ivy was better at pretending to be okay than she used to be. "Of course I can read, ah-" the paper was shoved at her quickly enough as she tried desperately to focus. Shaking her head slightly she tried to straighten out all the fragmented and frayed strings of thought that buzzed around her skull and slipped from her grip. "I am, I am Ivy Gawyne, the third child and only daughter of Fredrick and Jade Gawyne of Rynmere! I do not need this kind of housing as I'm here on an invite from the king, looking to take one of the roles of Advisor." She tried to summon up as much of her old personality and commanding disposition as possible, in addition to whatever she'd learned from Hunter while watching him practice to be the next Duke someday. She actually managed to come off as convincing and she celebrated a little inside for that simple fact. Maybe she could do this!
"Common"
"Rakahi"
Re: The Office of Residency
Posted: Mon Aug 13, 2018 9:29 pm
by Tyrant
Ivy Response
► Show Spoiler
To say that the fellow was beyond busy would have been a blatant under exaggeration, even as Ivy stepped into the room and made her request for Housing, one of the “neatly” stacked towers of paper would begin to take a gradual careening fall towards the aforementioned ink puddle upon the floor. It seemed quite likely that this was at least a semi-regular occurrence within the office, because even as the fellow handed over the paper which would designate proper housing choices within the city, he caught the tip of the tower and promptly hurtled the offending papers back onto the desk before they could become utterly ruined.
Thankfully for Ivy, it seemed quite possible that the unfortunate and messy fellow behind the desk was quite used to the stuttering of those who entered his office, either in vain attempts at reading through his documents, or else that he was so busy that he simply didn’t care for her nervous stumbling. He didn’t even bother acknowledging the shake of her head until she deigned it necessary to once again interrupt his important work with her irritable negativity and ignorance. The man grumbled with a roll of his eyes as he retracted the scrap of paper, hurtling it with the righteous fury of an over-worked scribe behind his back.
“Gawyne” He muttered as if though the word were anathema, an insult to the ears, and shuddered visibly as he began to peer into another pile of nearby papers. A few moments later, he would extract a particularly jaded document, and began reading through it, his dead eyes glancing upwards every few moments to make sure that she hadn’t abandoned him after forcing him to do so much work. “Noble. Report to Fortress. They’ll take care of your housing there. It’s the biggest structure in Quacia. Don’t get lost.” He finished with about as much grace as a limping dog, and promptly re-shelved the scrap of paper, his eyes returning immediately to the pile before him, his hand returning to the incessant scribbling that constituted his work.