A Problem and a Klue [Klue, Private]

[Reliant]

After Klue finished taking his warm bath and dressing up in the nicest outfit he had, complete by his standards, he headed downstairs into the lobby. The woman that had signed him in smiled at him as he reached the last step.

"My sir," she stated, glancing at his ensemble, "you must come from quite a gentle family. May I take your coat?" If Klue obliged, she would hang the coat in a closet to the left of the counter, his name written on a pice of paper attached to the wooden hanger. Klue would take note that not one man sitting at a table was wearing his jacket.

The woman walked between the tables, looking at the man as if he was to follow, to a table for two beside a window looking out at towards the front of the inn. Two candles, newly lit, burned in the middle, complete with small ceramic containers for butter, cream, and sugar. After seating him she pulled out a small board of slate and a stick of chalk.

"What may I get you to drink, sir?" After jotting down this piece of information, she looked up at Klue and smiled, "I will be back to take your order." She walked off, her heals clacking dully on the polished wooden floor. Looking down at the table, Klue noticed a folder pamplet printed of the finest paper, and written upon it in golden ink was the menu.

[Klue Malinconico]

Gentle family…Given the woman’s compliment when Klue presented himself for pracenda, he returned it with a grin and a short, ”Aye, ma’am, thank you,” and with every hope he wasn’t asked to elaborate. Given the dysfunction of his relations…found to be rather more so given recent information, the less said about them the better. Gentle didn’t quite describe the lot of them. No matter that he tended to transform the truth without a thought for the wisdom of it, he wasn’t sure he was up to a challenge of that magnitude. He’d done it once before, and was still watching his back lest the fabrication come back to haunt him.

So, mindful that he’d overdressed for the occasion, for future reference, he shrugged out of his coat and handed it over before following her to a table. A small table, but it was odd eating alone after keeping company with his squad. He was an officer trained to appear confident under pressure though, so here was to hoping it served him well. He took the offered seat with a nod of thanks to the young woman, considering the notion of what, exactly, gentlemen drank with pracenda. He’d been fool enough to truss himself up like a dandy, he might as well drink like one, he concluded. ”Red wine, please.”

When left to his own devices, the near boy observed those round him, fidgeted with his collar, then raised a brow when his gaze fell on the menu. Fancy thing, that. So he opened it, scanning his choices. Fine fair, no mess hall surprise here. The surprise being whether or not you or your fellow soldiers managed to keep it down. They’d named it well. But lobster…Crafties Lobster feast. Interesting. He’d never had it, so was bent on requesting it when the woman returned.

[Reliant]

As Klue sat down the young woman wrote down his request for red wine with his meal, then walked off to fulfill the order, the familiar click of her heels fading as she entered the kitchen. Looking over the menu, he decided on Crafties Lobster Feast, a fine choice as seafood was on of the inn's specialities. The yound man fidgeted with his collar and sooner than he expected, the woman reappeared with a glass in one hand, and a fairly decent sized bottle of red wine in the other, its label sporting something fancy in elvish, although it would be the life of him if Klue had to tell what it meant. She set both the glass and bottle onto the table, condensation still dripping down the bottle, as it was best served chilled.

She pulled out her small piece of slate and asked for the man's next course of actions, which he told her was the Crafties Lobster Piece. The waitress smiled, maybe because it was the house dish, or maybe because she would enjoy seeing the man pay for all the eccentricities of the night.

"The first course will be served in a few moments, sir."

She scuttled off back to the kitchen, and Klue also noted that all the other waiters and waitresses did as well. As the human helped himself to a glass of the wine, he heard a bell ring, and all the waitresses and waiters emerged from the kitchen at one time, each one carrying a silver platter with a large bowl of fresh salads from their personal garden, and several dishes of dressings. If Klue was not impressed yet, he would soon be after the next few courses. He would be amazed with himself if he could even make it to the main course.

As the salad and several dressing choices were set down in front of him, including bleu cheese, ranch, and a red vinaigrette to accompany his choice of drink, the waitresses and waiters left again as quickly as they came. On the left side of his bowl were two spoons and a knife, on the right three forks. Next to the forks was a napkin shaped into the cute form of a swan. It was now up to the human's informed sense of social class to pick the correct combination of the six with which to eat and where to place the napkin, if that is what it really was, and still appear to be what he claimed.

As Klue looked at the napkin and utensils with a growing sense of awe and confusion, a large man with a clean-shaven face and wrapped in a shining satin suit sat down in the seat opposite him, shaking the table and spilling some of the dressings onto the tablecloth. A few people gave him odd looks, but for the most part people ignored him. Klue figured that if the man had gotten this far without opposition, he was probably a man that knew what he was doing when the upper class was concerned. The man pointed a meaty finger at the middle fork and the knife, and spoke in a soft and gentle voice, the complete opposite of what Klue would have expected from a man of his stature.

"You would want to use those two."

[Klue Malinconico]

Klue had wondered, when Dunnear had drawn up that suit for him, if he could carry off the ruffled collar and sleeves. He’d concluded he could, in all his humble opinion where his abilities and appeal were concerned. But theoretically, he guessed. For in practice, he’d a powerful urge to tug on the things, barely able to resist it. The young man felt as if the whole of the dining room were staring at him. And him so out of his element, that his ordinary and heightened sense of self worth nearly failed him, left him tapping a boot idly under the table. He eyed the label on the bottle when the girl brought it along, quirked a brow that he hoped looked highly impressed, though not a bit of the text on the thing was legible. He returned her smile, finding his own turning a bit puzzled as all the waitstaff scuttled off at once.

But to distract himself, he poured himself a glass and took what he assumed was a polite swallow, though his eyebrows met in a slight frown at the taste of it. Those used to cheap spirits, after all, often found the finer a bit hard to swallow at first. As it was though, he was bent on getting used to the finer things, so devoted himself to the task at hand. Besides, a bit of wine under his belt could only help.

He watched them all reappear, finally managing to still his tapping boot, trays in hand and spread throughout the room. He’d seen units in the regiment less capable of synchronized drills. He grinned, then stilled the impulse when his salad was set before him. Shifting in his chair and nodding his thanks to the girl, he eyed the bottles, certain that was a right choice, and a poor one. True, ranch made everything taste better. Red vinaigrette, runny and unfamiliar. And the blue cheese, also unfamiliar…But lumpy, and it smelled funny. Probably something the better folk fancied…like fish eggs on wafers, and creamed livers of something or other smeared on toast. Bleu cheese it was then, and he helped himself. Assuming the napkin was for wearing and not for looking, he shook the thing out and hesitated. In the shirt, or the lap?

He was still holding the thing, still thinking about it when the large fellow helped himself to a chair, and sent things toppling just where Klue had thought he might himself. Klue glanced at him and grinned slightly, wryly, unsure…Maybe the fellow had already sniffed him out and was going to toss him out of the inn. Maybe he figured, having guessed as much, that he couldn’t pay. Judging by the looks of the place and the service heaped on him, Klue wasn’t sure either. But the voice surprised him and he glanced at the array of untensils, considered his response, then picked up the fork and knife, having dropped the napkin in his lap so it might look like an accident...In case it went elsewhere. ”Nat’rally, sir.” Sure the fellow sounded helpful, but possible was a trick to get him to do something stupid. He didn’t need any help in that regard, having already had a good start with the jacket the request for a soak. But maybe not, maybe the man was a rare sort...And he could use the company. So extending his hand across the table, he offered it to the man. ”Klue Malinconico, sir.”

[Reliant]

After Klue dropped the napkin in his lap, the motion went unnoticed, so the man felt that for once he had done something right. Looking across the table, the large man also unfolded his own napkin and placed it on his right knee, then looked up to see Klue's hand extended in his direction. The young man was relieved to see that the man opposite him brought up his own hand to meet his, knowing that he had not again made another social faux pas. But that relief turned to horror as the man, with is large arms, knocked over a glass bottle of dressing from the tablecloth to the floor. With a large crash, all movement ceased and speech stopped in the room, and all eyes turned to look at the table where Klue was seated. And almost as soon as they turned towards him, they turned back, most likely noticing the man that was seated with him. As soon as conversation started again a waitress came and began to clean up the mess.

"I apologize Sir Draehon. This will be cleaned up immediately." Draehon replied, "Don't worry about it, and bring me a salad as well." The woman nodded and bent back down. As the waitress made progress with a small brush, pail, and sponge, the large man turned back to Klue and smiled sheepishly. "They sure don't make glass like they used to." He grasped the young man's hand and continued. "Sir Draehon, and I noticed you were sitting alone here, so I thought I would accompany you."

From the man's eloquence in speech, Klue could tell he was of the upper class, despite his lack of dexterity. And a knight at that, this Sir draehon must be an important fellow. As Klue pondered this, the man started up again. "What brings you to Abestat Mr. Malinconico?" At that time the waitress had finished cleaning the floor, as clean as it was now compared to before. At the same time a waiter arrived with a salad for Sir Draehon, and an extra bottle of salad dressing along with another wine glass. Bowing, the waiter and waitress left, leaving the two in privacy. The knight leaned forward and poured himself a glass from the bottle of elven red wine, and sipped it elegantly, pouring some ranch dressing upon his salad.

It seemed Klue was in luck as is social standing was concerned. He had placed his napkin in the right spot first of all, and the man he was with was a man of high enough social stature it seemed, being a knight and all. And then there was the picking of the wine, and with the satisfied look on Sir Draehon's face, it seemed Klue didn't blunder there either. No, it seemed as though the young man had things going his way. For now, that is.

[Klue Malinconico]

So no one had fallen to vapors with the napkin in his lap. Good, gave Klue confidence. Or rather, encouraged something he probably shouldn’t be taking on in the first place. It was neither here nor there, in his mind. Practice for a life prosperous and renowned. That was the plan anyway. Gentleman gadgeteer, commander of the PMR, professional thinker…the list went on and was added to or edited on a whim. Ambition, youthful ambition and confidence, plain and simple. Though there was a second when he’d wondered over the wisdom of extending his hand, concerned over the possibility there’d be a painful pause while it hovered there not reciprocated. He grinned wider when the man reached over to take it. But then naturally, things went south and Klue nearly cringed when every eye turned their way.

Guilt by association. And he vaguely looked it. After all, he’d been the flash point for many a disaster in his time. Quite a few in fact, given the span of his time on Telath. Mild ones, mind. An explosion that engulfed an outdoor privy in flames and was heard three farms over…A bottle of toilet water he’d concocted for his mother’s birthday, leaving her covered in hives for a cycle or more. There were others…accidents and miscalculations…A danger to himself and society, his mother’s husband had said. A bottle toppled over was nothing…but guilt by default and association. He grinned apologetically at the waitress come to clean it up.

But when she left, he took the man’s hand in a firm grip before releasing it. Sir…A knight, maybe? A gentleman sure, from his speech. But a fellow soldier automatically had his respect. Clearly an important man besides, if the reaction of the other diners was an indication. Waitresses too, he noted when another salad was delivered. He smiled, and swallowed a bite he’d taken. ”Well met, Sir Draehon. I’m glad for th’ comp’ny,” he added as he watched the man survey the wine and apparently approve. Good, another blunder diverted. ”What brings me t’ Abestat, is learnin’, though I ‘aven’t been here long. Just th’ bright’nin’. I’ve taken some time away from Lauryl t’ sign up for a course in Alchemy. A gadgeteer, sir, least when I can manage th’ time,” he added with a wide grin after taking a swallow of his wine. ”But, sir…A soldier…A knight m’be? I’m a junior officer in th’ PMR in Frigid River, m’self. Fam'ly tradition,” he finished with a grin. It wasn't of course. Not a one of them. But he had in on good authority that many a fine family sent their sons to be officers.

[Reliant]

The large man nodded politely as Klue spoke, eating the salad slowly while taking the occasional sip from his glass of wine. As the younger man continued he finished his glass and poured himself another. As Klue finished he swallowed and replied. "Alchemy, you say? Quite an interesting field of study, my boy. Lauryl, hmm? Mighty fine place. Gadgeteering is becoming a mighty fine investment nowadays as well." The man took a few more bites of his salad and continued after Klue asked about his title. "My boy, a knight I am. Back in the day I served under the governor as her personal guard. Yes indeed, back in the day..." The man trailed off and took another sip form his glass. "A junior officer in the PMR you say? Good for you, my boy. That is true leadership. Family tradition indeed, good parents you have to show you some discipline."

At that time the waiters and waitresses returned to the tables to collect any dishes that were no longer needed. The waitress came and took both Sir Draehon's and Klue's plates, also noting that the wine was decreasing at a more rapid rate. "Good sirs, the second course will be served shortly." She left, as did all the others, and in a few minutes, another bell rang, and the waiters and waitresses returned in unison, bearing silver platters piled high with the various dishes ordered that night. Two waitresses arrived at Klue's table and each placed a platter in front of the larger and younger men. Both opened the lid at the same time to reveal the same dish, Craftie's Lobster Feast. One waitress also opened another bottle of the same red wine and placed it next to the existing one, for as it was, Sir Draehon was about to finish the first. The waitresses nodded and returned to the kitchen with the lids.

Sir Draehon glanced at his dish, smiling with delight, then looked at Klue's. "Ah, fine my boy, we enjoy similar tastes!" Before either took a bite the large man filled both his and the younger man's glass with wine, then lifted his towards the middle of the table. "A toast, my boy. To Abestat. To Diana. To a healthy friendship. To a fine stay in this fine city."

[Klue Malinconico]

Good parents and discipline…Klue only nodded around a mouthful of salad as he washed it down with a swallow of wine. He wasn’t touching that one. His mother…salt of Telath, even if she had spread her around and been darned popular in the process. Result of that, was that he and he four sisters, the whole lot of them, were probably only related by half, and none of them to her husband. But he couldn’t blame her, given the husband she was saddled with. What Klue had learned from that drunken lout was to hit hard and fast before the other had a chance to swing first. He’d done that, in fact, just before he’d left home…Knocked the son of an orc through a wall before he had a chance to vent another drunken rage on Klue. Fine lot indeed, his family.

But leadership…a powerful temptation and his mind fixed on the man’s past profession as he drained his glass. Given the rate the level of the bottle was dropping, he was starting to wonder how much this meal was going to set him back. But the waitress dropped by, he nodded and grinned and his mind steered back to the topic at hand. ”Personal guard for th’ gov’nor? Nice job, that one? And Lauryl…Lauryl’s cold, not like Ieffreon where I studied b’fore. But tis alright.” he commented and pushed his emptied salad plate away. Appetite, he had plenty. Those in charge of him time to time had come to expect that the larger part of keeping Klue, was feeding him.

And so his stomach nearly grumbled when the plate was set in front of him, though all of it was unfamiliar. Still, he hesitated while Sir Draehon filled his glass, waiting till the other picked up a utensil to take his cue. Instead, he grinned wider and met the man’s glass with his own across the table. ”Here’s t’ that,” he added and took a drink before setting the glass down again. ”Gadgeteerin’, yer right. Chance t’ shape or invest in th’ future,” he said with every manner of confidence that he could do just that with the right training, experience, and a few good investors along the way. ”For instance, what would it b’ worth, if ye were t’ have such a d’vice in yer home that would light all th’ lamps in th’ house with n’ more than th’ flip of a switch. Snuff ‘em too, without ever havin’ to lift a finger? An’ not just yer house, mind,” the young man added, enthusiasm clear in his eyes. ”but in places like this, in a palace…Along th’ very streets?”

[Reliant]

Sir Draehon lowered his glass once Klue did, and both he and the young lad drank their wine simultaneously. As Sir Draehon set his glass down, he picked up his fork and knife, digging into the plate that steamed before him. He cut off a small piece of lobster, dunked it in a small train of melted butter on the side of the platter, and inserted it into his watering mouth. Simply delicious, the lobster was amazing. He chewed softly as Klue continued on about gadgeteering. As the young man finished he ate another piece of the lobster and took another drink of wine before wiping his mouth and hands with the napkin that lay on his knee.

"Amazing my boy. You think you can do that? That would revolutionize the entire land. Imagine what you could do with such a device!" The large man's voice seemed to only get higher in pitch as he got excited, and his face got slightly pink. "How long do you think it would take you to do such a thing? How about funding, do you have plenty of that?" Klue was pretty sure that it sounded like Sir Draehon was offering to fund his endeavors. "Just imagine...you could changed the world!" Sir Draehon, in a fit of excitement, swallowed a rather large bit of unchewed lobster and coughed softly before downing the rest of his glass of wine.

[Klue Malinconico]

There was an art to watching, without appearing to be watching…but Klue did his best in an attempt to not make a bloody fool of himself. So once Sir Draehon had chosen his weapons of choice, the young human felt confident enough to follow suit. Gods knew why one needed more than one fork and knife. But there it was. Only one mishap, but given his lack of comfort in such places, it was a small one. Butter, once he’d dunked a cut of lobster in it, dribbled on his ruffled collar. Though he did his best to ignore the fact. And a new taste to him, despite his time spent in Eunesia. He could get used to it, and washed the bite down with a swallow of wine before having another.

The knight’s interest was encouraging to say the least. The last he’d tried to secure himself a sponsor, his pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Needed one too, he thought. Someone with clout and respect to get him going and help him along. He hadn’t explained the idea to the last fellow of course, but had concluded the man had no vision, so wasn’t worth the trouble. He grinned though, having downed another glass of wine. This time he wouldn’t be stupid enough to push. That had earned him an up in the rent price for the workshop. ”I’ve a’ready done it,” he said in a hushed voice, grinning wider. ”A…prototype, if ye will, but ain’t been marketed or anythin’. Never even shown t’ anyone. Course, t’was nothin’ fancy and with only three lamps then. An’ not anythin’ artful lookin’ o’ course. Jus’ t’ see if t’would work.”

Cutting himself another bit of lobster, he poured himself another glass of wine and washed it down. ”It did, see? A switchbox that operates small d’vices on th’ lamps…Oil fed lamps, mind, t’ both light and snuff ‘em automatically, an’ fixed s’ ye can light as many as ye want at one time, spread over a large space an’ around corners, and never have t’ lift a finger b’sides flippin’ a switch.” Frankly, given his tendency to engineer minor disasters, he’d been rather surprised at the ease of it. ”Took only a couple o’ bright’nin’s t’ build it once I’d figured out the design. Course, I had a workshop to build it in. An’ there’s refinin’ t’ do o’ course.”

Like a better way to communicate from switchbox to lamps. There was no fault in it, and worked perfectly. But one of these brightenings, given enough thought and input, or just plain old inspiration, he’d figure out how to eliminate that twine altogether. Near invisible anyway as it was, the way he’d arranged it. And the new notion of using fishing twine rather than hemp. Even less noticeable that way, he figured, so one would never know it was there. Till then though, it was a minor detail and fine the way it was. The fact that the thing worked was the important bit.

”It was th’ thinkin’ took time, see” Klue added, trying out an unfamiliar scallop dipped in butter. ”Th’ buildin’ was th’ easier bit, jus’ th’ skill t’ do it is all. Not like th’ GnomeChuck where th’ designin’ was nothin’, but th’ buildin’ a bother. As for funding, I had t' purchase th' tools an' supplies t' build it, an' rent a workshop. Still have th' tools, o' course, supplies are a diff'rent matter.”

[Reliant]

Sir Draehon listened patiently as Klue explained the inner workings of his newest invention. The man took another sip of wine and chewed thoughtfully on another bit of lobster, nodding slowly with comprehension as the man opposite him continued. He downed the mouthful of lobster and wiped his lips carefully with his napkin, then coughed into it. As soon as Klue finished, he set down his silverware and clasped his hands on the table. "Well, my boy. That sounds all rather facinating indeed. So you are in need of a place to work and supplies you say? That is not a problem my boy, not at all."

He filled his glass again and took a drink, before picking up his utensils yet again and stuffing a whole scallop in his mouth after dipping it in butter. He looked at Klue and after, he finished chewing and swallowed, continued. "I can provide both, my boy. And as much funding as you would need. I will even help you publish your findings, and get your product on the market. Imagine my boy, you could be famous throughout the city, nay, throughout the province!" He smiled, cutting off another large chunk of lobster and poking at the air with his fork. "You can have all that, but only on one condition." He chewed on the piece of lobster before continuing, trying to draw some suspense.

"I would require a small percentage of the profits and that you outfit anything I wish without any expense on my part. Granted, you will be able to charge what you want for this fancy new contraption, and I am glad you can. The nobles would be glad to invest a good many crowns for a new convenience. But for me, my money is well invested in other ventures, and as of late, those ventures have been failing for me. For me to dedicate the rest of what I have for this, I would need something small in return, and I find that to be of satisfactory compensation. It is but a thought, mind you, my boy." Sir Draehon took another bite of lobster, his plate running on empty, watching the man opposite him rather closely, waiting for his response.

[Klue Malinconico]

While Klue polished off the last of his meal and poured himself another glass of wine, he listened for the catch. Must be one. Course, he was of a disposition, a self-preserving one, that would be tempted to throw in a few himself. So only natural he’d suspect one, there or not. Whatever the case, the young man always enjoyed a captive audience, curious over his designs. Even if they did, on occasion, suffer glazed over eyes at the depth of the details. Neither here nor there in his mind. They didn’t necessarily have to understand the workings, to appreciate the innovation. ”Ye should see someone about that cough,” he commented after swallowing a mouthful of wine. 'Or chew yer food better,' he thought, having impulsively recalled with a slight grin yet another of life's lessons his grandmother had, in all her wisdom, imparted.

Would be a tragedy, no doubt, a knight of the realm...having survived every manner of danger and hardship...choked to death on a chunk of lobster.

So there was a catch then. A condition, and he considered it at length while he pushed his plate away. There always was one. Nothing was free, after all. He’d as much offered a small percentage of the profits before, for the rent of the warehouse. Problem had been that he’d declined to tell the fellow what he was up to, so the man hadn’t been inclined to invest where he’d been so mysterious. Understandable though, and a small price…If the percentage was small enough. The other though…He wasn’t sure, unless the man cared to elaborate.

”Like I said, t’is no trouble t’ build and with better supplies, I can rig up a more artful d’sign. I’d patent it o’course, th’ d’sign, in my name, b’fore I’d be willin’ t’ market it. Or even build another b’sides th’ one I ‘ave a’ready. An’ I’ve only th’ few cycles here, m’be a month. I’m off t’ Midpoint in Optia t’ train at th’ fortress. Committed already, ye see? An’ there’s my classes in Alchemy, s’ I’d have t’ work around it. I’d have t’ think on it a bright’nin’ or so…For tis a generous offer, sir.” A brightening or so to figure out exactly why the man was being so generous, before Klue agreed. He was interested, no doubt, but grown more cautious of late. ”A small percentage…understandable an' more than fair. What figure did ye have in mind?"

True, figures weren't really his strong suit. After all, his original adjustments on the GnomeChuck would have sent his gnomish partner in innovation crashing into the calm and gentle ocean much like a melon smashed headlong into a brick wall. One hundred and twenty miles per second to be precise, as his tutor had pointed out...a gnome himself in fact. Added to that, a possible candidate for experiementation. Savvy survival instincts, that fellow. True enough though, the miscalculation would've put a hitch in the intended entertainment value of the thing. At least for the gnome.

But a few adjustments...increase the arc, decrease the velocity as a result. Would've dropped him gentle into the water with all the care of a babe set in a bath. A fortune to be made in the entertainment market...If not for the gnome pulling out and his GnomeChuck going untested. Cold feet. But figures...Never an exact science in Klue's mind...one not really geared to numbers to start with. But when it came to profit, he was keen enough to calculate the details.

Bu’ what d’ ye mean, outfittin’ anythin’ ye wish?” he asked with another swallow of his wine.

[Reliant]

Sir Draehon just smiled as Klue went through explaining the details of his invention, and his concern for the knight's generous offer.

"Don't bother yourself so much, my boy. As for the small percentage, I was thinking about a figure close to five percent. Nothing big, but enought to compensate for the funds I will be giving you to work with. Like I said my boy, it is but a small percentage."

The man took a small sip of wine and continued.

"And as for outfitting anything I wished, I merely meant my house, or manor, rather. I think it would be lovely to put those marvelous contraptions in every room if possible. This would of course be compensation for not making the percentage any higher than my gracious offer."

At that time a waitress came by and picked up all the empty plates.

"The third course will be served shortly, sirs."

She piled all the dished on her silver platter and walked off back towards the kitchen.

[Klue Malinconico]

A third course? Klue grinned at the waitress and nodded obligingly, while wondering just how much this meal was going to set him back. Sure, he’d the crowns…He’d just never been partial to parting with them. Still, he was bent on enjoying what had proven to be the finest meal he’d ever had laid before him. And so when she left, he refilled both wine glasses and pondered what the man had said.

”Five percent…It sounds fair enough,” he concluded, though he’d only offered the carpenter two for the use of his workshop. The man had passed though, having no notion of what Klue was up to, and courting some fear that the near boy would manage to somehow blow up his business. Bloody meddling fool with no vision, Klue had thought then. And his loss, after all.

As for the rest, he pondered it over a swallow of his wine. A manor…sounded like it had more than a few rooms. A lot of work. But he’d determined that the gadget would indeed be perfect for lighting up an entire house. A good way to prove it then. And a showcase for his innovation. ”Aye, I could do that. How many rooms do ye have, then? I’d need a place to work…” He trailed off, mind working overtime. Better he could work where the things were to be installed…Better he could stay there too. For convenience, mind, though the notion was appealing to his purse as well, for saving it the risk of becoming sorely depleted for staying at the inn till his alchemy course was done. Maybe the man would catch on to the notion without him being so bold as to ask.

Still, he concluded that the bargain was a fair one, and appealing on many a level. ”It’ll take quite a few lamps then, an’ other supplies. I can make ye a list of th’ things I’d need in hopes they can all be found in th’ city. Shouldn't be any trouble t' find. Mostly common things, mind, t’ b’ found at most gen’ral shops and such.”

[Reliant]

Sir Drahon nodded as he took yet another sip of wine, looking at Klue intently as he spoke on the matter of his new invention. Five percent was indeed fair enough since he was providing the young man everything he needed, and all he really wanted was to outfit his house, the misses would be awestruck. Such a wonderful anniversary gift that would be. The large man smiled and leaned back as the waitress returned with two silver platters, setting one down in front of each man. Lifting the lids off, Klue was confronted not with another steaming dish of food, but something cold and deliciously sweet looking. It seemed the third course was indeed the dessert for the night.

The waitress nodded to both men and took the lids back to the kitchen, leaving them alone again. What lie in front of Klue was a pile of what looked like a deep dark chocolate cake, layered with white frosting and cream, chilled of course, with a few pieces of fruit on the side and a cherry nestled in the middle. A light chocolate sauce was drizzled across the plate and in the corner stood a sprig of mint, a green sentinel overlooking a dark brown and white encampment of sugar. The entire thing looked rather marvelous, as though it was a work of art as opposed to a part of a meal. Sir Drahon filled up his glass again and took a sip before responding.

"Rooms, my boy? Not much mind you, about 15, including 5 bedrooms. And do not worry yourself concerning a place to work, I have the perfect place. Right outside our manor is the large shed our garderner uses. There is a room in there, quite large, with tables and counters and plenty of room. As as far as the inventory goes, just write down what you need and I will have my squire see to it that you have the items by the end of the next brightening."

The man smiled and took up his fork, slicing a corner of the cake away gently and placing it his mouth, smiling as he chewed. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin and looked across the table.

"This cake is quite delicious, my boy. Best in all of Abestat. So, my boy, do we have a deal?"