MwN3 Glimpses 3 and 4

Steven-3

    New servants meant new uniforms. With the delivery of fabric, needles, and thread, Steven could begin fittings. To think that getting emasculated at the Harvest of Talents ended up being the start of one of the most interesting and potentially profitable outcomes. Where the temples might have dug deeper into his past, their whipping up an employment contract and shipping him off to Lady White avoided most of that. But as his old master liked to say, “The past is never dead, it’s not even past.”

    The knock was expected. “Come in.”

    “I was told to come here.”  Started a nervous young man wearing a uniform that looked as second-hand as it probably was. Clothing ill-fitted to his body, both too big and too small in places.  

    "Rene Jacobs,  there is nothing to be scared of. I only want to take your measurements for some new uniforms.” Steven assured him. 

    “Madam White, er… Kelly got me these.”

    A nervous young actor, taken under the wings of the great Kelly White, the Beggar Queen of the stage. Not ready for his new responsibilities as a servant for the rising new aristocrat, Lady Harmony White.   

    “As an actor, you know how important a costume is. Here, we simply want to ensure everyone meets the standards we've set. Stand over there and let me get your measurements.” With a measuring tape and a notepad, Steven began documenting. “Tell me about yourself, what got you caught up in all this?”

    The story was important. A single use of  [Tailor’s Measure] and the numbers he needed would be there.  Was this necessary? Absolutely.  Slowly, Steven teased out the who of Rene Jacobs. He really was a wonderful liar. But he lacked imagination, so he leaned on the truth a bit too much.  A dog named Pistachio. An aunt named Lila. Bits and pieces that could be used to find out who was behind all those acting skills.

    “That should be enough. I’ll have your suit ready for you in a few days. Go find Constance Bradly for me, and send her over next.” Steven finished. 

    Not all of the hires had that level of deception of the twelve he fitted today. Most problematic employees were from Kelly’s crew. The ones he caught on Bates's side were probably the ones to test him. 

    It was with a light heart that Steven knocked on Bate’s door and entered when called. 

    “How was it?” The old man asked. 

    “Three vipers. You’ll want to pay particular interest in one Rene Jacobs. I have notes on everyone from today. This is only the first day of fittings, too.”

    Bates merely nodded. “You’re excused.”

    That man was something else. With one look on the day of his arrival, the man knew the humble tailor and duelist wasn’t what he presented himself as. To have such a golden opportunity as to be on the ground floor of such a rising operation. One of Lady Harmony White’s staff, there at the very beginning. It was almost enough to completely bury one’s history. Bates was a good supervisor, and everything was so much easier when you didn’t have to lie about your talents.  

Manfred- 4

    This was not a job Manfred had planned on taking. 

    Viv’s squealing excitement, wide eyes, and vibrating energy had sealed the deal. Making choices based on what your adorable seven-year-old niece wanted might not be the best guide to applying for jobs. Manfred couldn’t say no.  After all, she had multiple copies of the dolls for Strongstress and the Flows, as well as special guest stars Hyacinth and Lady Harmony White.

    A detailed map of Hazeldown spread out over three pushed-together tables. Next to Manfred sat the stack of properties recently acquired by House White that he'd carefully marked out on the map, color coding as he went. To call it a homicidal splatter of dead properties would be an understatement.  

    While most of them were listed as vacant, they weren’t unoccupied. Squatters, gangs, one case of unusually large rodents, and several minor infestations were all there to take advantage of the space. All very common with the high turnover and lack of maintenance that happened when people chose to move out to advance their levels as they got older.  Ten years as a guardsman had made Manfred familiar with most of the street-level situations. This would not be an easy mess to clean up. 

    Tracing the loans behind the gifted properties wasn’t difficult. Transfers from minor lords and ladies from their communal tower in Naewauld, lots bought en masse from banks, investors, and loansharks as a way to dump their least desirable properties while getting inflated prices. A poison pill that would have most property managers pulling their hair out to avoid taking losses. 

    Manfred stretched as he stood up to the map to mark the latest lot, his joints popping and scars aching from old wounds as he limbered up for the jaunt around the table. This spot was pinched between the slums and wharfs, empty with space to build on, except it was near the warehouses where they cleaned the fish, before storing the guts for transport to feed Old Bones. The kind of spot where people buried bodies, knowing full well no one was going to check there. 

    This definitely wasn’t a job he'd planned on taking, but Manfred Walker wasn’t most property managers. And Lady White wasn’t most employers.  The "gifted" properties were spread out on the map, with the heaviest concentrations in the poorest or highest crime areas. Taking a boot knife out, Manfried started using the blade to clean his nails. An act that started as an intimidation tactic, but became habitual when he got excited.  “Oh, the things we can do.”

    Setting the knife down with his newly cleaned nails, he got back to work. Ambrosia was punctual, if anything. Also, scary enough that slacking wasn't recommended. The willpower it took to tame birds over other creatures was impressive.

    The songstress entered carrying a box. “How is it looking?”  She asked.

    “It's a big pile of murdered corpses. But we might be able to raise something useful out of them.” Manfred answered.

    “What kind of monster are we talking about?”

    “If we can make them all functional, we might be able to cross the one-thousandth city ownership needed for a seat on the city council.”

    “That's one ugly beast,” Ambrosia murmured.

    “Yeah, those rotting nethers hate new blood.” Manfred cracked his knuckles. “But think of the potential. What's in the box?”

    “Your bonus pay, per your contract. Signed official memorabilia from Songstress and the Flows.  I'll get you ones with Harmony and Hyacinth’s marks once they return.”

    Manfred's face broke into a grin. Viv would have been so disappointed if he hadn't taken this job. Casting his eyes to the map and all the chaotic problems there, warmed a spot in his class he'd felt was long cold. Sure, everything will be done nice and legal-like. But when you come out of your evolution with the crime lord class, working legal loopholes could be a joy as well.  “Wonderful. Let me tell you some of my ideas.”