Diary of an Ooze Witch (Joseph de Steel) 2.1-2.2

2.1

As I watched Father sign his name to the last of the paperwork, I pondered how we had gotten to this point. Here I was, about to assume the role of liaison to Placedo, as primary heir to the Steel Family Fortune. By any metric, I should have been overjoyed that he would trust me with such responsibilities in service of the family. It was to be a mark of my Father’s great expectations for me and the future that I would be seizing. And while I have no intentions of disappointing him in the matter, the events that had led us here still weigh heavily on my mind. Had it not been for my Brother’s madness, I would still be a kept Son, with no more freedom to move around than my own Sister could attest to. It is only by this tragedy that I am allowed to succeed, and the irony could not be more apparent to me.

My Father and his colleagues offer me praise and encouragement for my advancement, but I’ve become all too aware of how hollow and empty they are. Had William not fallen to his mania, had he stayed his charming self and continued to act on behalf of the Family in Placedo, they would not be lauding me as they were now. I understand quite clearly that my station was given not out of merit but necessity, and the notion stalks my being every waking moment. I feel the charlatan, an impostor among men of actual achievement. Their accolades mean nothing to me because I know I have earned nothing.

My self loathing is interrupted by my Father as he voices his intentions on expanding toward the western cities of Widegard. It is in the aftermath of the skirmish with the Remian Union that calls for reconstruction are reaching our ears, alerting us to potential for growth within our operations. I hold my tongue and tacitly accept his renewed interest in the region. I had known that the territory was ripe for picking ages ago, but even still, lording it over him now would only threaten to put me out of Father’s favor, as tainted as that favor may be. Instead, I nod at his assessment and smile softly as he tells me his plans to curry influence with them. All I can do is nod and listen as he regales me with his plans, a soft resentment building beneath the surface all the while.

When he finally tires of hearing his own voice, Father dismisses me from his chambers as I am allowed to begin making arrangements for travel to my new post in Placedo. I lick my lips in anticipation as I make headway toward my other objective. While I by all means intend to handle business in the city, my passion, my drive has been made clear: To get to the bottom of this tragedy that befell William. As proof of my intention, I must comb over any and all of his previous dealings in the city. Surely, there would be a clue as to whom this harlot could have been, that someone had seen this woman of impeccable and heart rending beauty. If my maddened Brother is to be believed, it would be impossible to hide a woman of such voluptuousness and the trail of broken hearts in her wake.

And as I make my way to the tavern, I know just the man to enlist in my crusade. Jeru, despite his less than virtuous demeanor, possesses a darker wisdom about him that makes him easily qualified to sniff out any rumor or morsel of information about my target. Years of tavern crawls and pub dives, his reputation and stature as a drunk is more of a boon than a hindrance to me in this manner. Jeru’s eyes and ears can gather more information than I could alone, not to mention his loyalty is unerring. All he truly asked for to help me in my mission was to cover his tabs for any and all pubs and taverns he would be attending. While I have no doubt he will cost a pretty Milan in coin, I foresee it as a worthwhile investment: I fund his debauchery, he provides me with desperately needed information. Jeru seems happy to oblige me, seeming rather glib about the endeavor and slightly excited to attend pubs outside of Steelbane.

As my preparations come to an end, I think back to the strand of hair I keep stored away in a locket. Retrieving the item from my pocket, I snap the cover open and gaze upon its flaxen beauty, curled inside of the compartment for storage. It takes some effort on my part to pull myself away from its image as I click the cover back over its contents. How could something so small, so insignificant, become the object of such desire. I remind myself again of my Brother’s grotesque painting, how it had oozed off of the canvas, smelling of rot and decay. It is fortunate I had ordered its destruction, as there is no telling what damage it could have held for the Family as a whole.

I shake my head and look back to the vanity. Focusing myself on the task at hand, I intend to use this opportunity to bring the harlot to justice.

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2.2

I pay respect to my Family as they wish me well on my journey to Placedo, capital city of the Ventigiore Province. Arissa promises me that she will take care of Mother in light of recent events while Father offers me a hand to shake before I leave. Part of me is surprised by this gesture, as if he is attempting to kindle his newfound respect for my endeavor. However, I stay guarded, not assured of my own place in the business and still harboring the guilt of my Brother’s madness upon my shoulders. I return the favor and pray for Father’s success as he grips my hand tightly, clenching firmly to my own. It is a strength I am unable to return to him, as he only stops when a faint expression of pain can be seen on my face. Without any further exchange, Father releases my hand and nods to me solemnly. I try best to mimic him, only succeeding to increase the tension of my departure.

Leading a caravan eastward, Jeru and I mark the Iron Pass as our quickest route to Placedo. A trip that would normally take us three days provided there was no trouble along the way and if weather was on our side. Jeru is in good spirits and regards the start of our journey to be positive. It is during sundown of the first night, when we are resting our laurels, that Jeru points out that we could probably make better time if we sold some of our wares in the town of Hasbeck. While it was true that we could reach there before the next nightfall, taking the hit to our finances by underselling on our iron reserves seems irresponsible to me.

It was then that Jeru pointed out that we could probably make better time if we sold some of our iron reserves at Hasbeck instead of Placedo. Word had it that the markets further north were becoming more competitive due to my Brother’s tenuous grip on the Family’s financial connections to the city. Even if we sold some of our iron reserves in Hasbeck at a discount, we could bring in a better return investment than lugging it all the way north, where prices were becoming more volatile.

Loath as I am to admit it, Jeru has a point on both fronts. While it’s no secret that Placedo has been a hotbed of cutthroats in recent years, a fact that transfers very easily to the business world, the market is in flux. By selling in Hasbeck, we could potentially cut out some of that instability and instead receive a lighter load for our troubles, making the logistics of the whole ordeal easier. I agreed with him then and there, a smile creeping on his face.

We should be able to make it to Hasbeck, weather permitting, by tomorrow.

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