A Little R and R (Mace Essex-Private)

[Milo L'Evienne]

Last brightening Melora, Winter of Era XIII

Early evening was a particularly crowded one at the Crown Inn and Tavern this brightening, and the tall Eunesian seated at a corner table had been lucky to find one to himself-though he expected it was a state that might change as the evening proceeded. It was fine with him, in fact. There were few of those empty tables left. Not particularly near the fire that ordinarily would have been his preference, but the waning cold of winter meant a lesser determination in that regard. He was a tall man, not a fraction under six foot four, lean and fit in his middle forties with salt and pepper hair neatly tied back and smooth shaven as always. Pale blue eyes set in a handsome face, an olive complexion as much as advertised his ancestry, though his bloodline was left completely open to interpretation.

Barrett Tierney, even dressed in common shades of dark gray and blue, reeked of uncommon dignity and genteel manners. And when he spoke, as when ordering the tumbler of bourbon now cradled between his palms, his smooth and cultured accent might well mark him as a member of the privileged class. That mark would be ill placed, at least to hear Barrett as good as deny it. But suffice to say when it came to social finesse, he very likely had his employer beat in spades. But not this evening, a rare occasion that he left such duties to others that were more than capable of keeping their charge safe…despite that fellow’s occasional misguided efforts to the contrary. It was enough to have Barrett’s own eye twitching, a malady otherwise consigned to the man to whom he pledged his own life in watching over.

But on this particular brightening, the tall fellow watched little else but the crowd gathered in the Crown Inn and Tavern, added those slipping in the doors to join them-and all the while nursing his drink.

[Mace Essex]

Wearily Mace pushed open the doors to the famous Crown Inn and Tavern. His journey from Taralon had just concluded and he wanted nothing more than a hot meal, a stiff drink and a comfortable bed for the night before conducting his business in the city tomorrow. As Mace was a gambling man, he knew it was a safe bet the Crown could provide all three at a relatively reasonable price.

Glancing at his surrounds Mace could see the common room was very busy tonight, people of like mind sought refuge from one thing or another and space was at a premium. Skirting around the edges of the crowd, Mace mumbled his apologies to those he inadvertently bumped or nudged. With a grimace he felt the three day old stubble that afflicted his face. He hated the feeling and thought that after his meal the first thing he would do was draw a piping hot bath and shave, then turn in until the next brightening was upon him. Gaining the bar, he waited patiently to be served. With a polite nod and smile to a barmaid, Mace ordered from the extensive menu;

”Serale Ma’am. May I trouble you for a double tot of the Hinterland Dark Rum followed by the Filet Mignon Supreme, rare, hold the salad.”

Once he was sure that his order could be accommodated, Mace counted out the appropriate amount of coin including the customary tip. With a measured eye, he watched the double tot of rum poured for him and took it in his left hand as he turned from the bar to face the dining area. The seating shortage had not suddenly remedied itself in the few minutes he had been placing his order and he was in no mood, let alone physical state to stand. So, without ceremony the human made straight for a table occupied by only one man.

He had an upper-middle class air and would most likely be offended that he deigned to grace him with his presence, but that was not a concern of his. If he didn’t enjoy his company quite so much as Mace would enjoy his rum, he could move.

”Mind if I sit here? No? Good, thank you.”

Obviously not waiting for a reply in the affirmative, Mace pulled out a chair and sat down with a tired sigh. Slowly he took the first sip of his rum as he gauged the reaction over the rim of his tumbler. The rum was good, not great, and still had a touch of alcoholic fire to it as he swirled it in his mouth, savoring the molasses taste before swallowing the mouthful with relish. It was exactly what he needed.

[Milo L'Evienne]

ooc: it’s only Barrett. =)

Given the nature of his service to the Empire and to one man in particular since that man’s own time as Prefect to Medonia, Barrett Tierney couldn’t do anything other than appraise each new face that entered the Crown Inn and Tavern. His charge wasn’t present of course, but duty was as ingrained into to the Eunesian’s make up as the color of his eyes. An uncommonly subtle and hasty assessment though, given a professionalism that would have been the envy of many of his counterparts, along with a good number of career politicians. So he merely sipped his drink and sized the man up quickly before turning his attention elsewhere. After all, he was off duty as much as he ever considered himself to be, and was after an evening of relaxation.

As for offense, hard to tell with this man. His was a sarcastic sort of wit, even that cleverly concealed by an ever dignified expression…Here was the straight man to the Regent’s somewhat more companionable sense of humor. So one brow rose only slightly given the newcomer’s comments, a curious tilt of his head but he otherwise nodded while adjusting his chair in response. He smiled slightly, a friendly sort, though his charge would say it was a worrisome one given any number of thoughts going through his mind.

”I don’t sir.” Mind, he meant before taking a swallow of his drink. ”The place is crowded tonight. Celebrating the departure of winter, I expect, in hopes of better times with the coming of spring.” It surely couldn’t get worse, considering the river snaking through Prime had recently turned to blood. Then extending a hand across the table as a friendly gesture, but in addition gauging the man’s character as a result, he asked, "So what brings you in sir? Business, rest or pleasure?"

[Mace Essex]

OOC: Thanks. What was I thinking :duh:

”Hmmm. That was good.” Mace commented to no one in particular as he finished the last of his rum in two quick swallows. Looking up he saw the man had not yet left the table; the man had not even an annoyed look upon his middle aged face. In fact, he was making the first tentative steps in conversation. Mace answered the first question blandly, ”Yes, I suppose so., then accepted his meal with a nod and a wink from the pretty waitress. As to the second of the questions, Mace was slightly taken aback, though he knew of no reason why. To cover whatever reaction might’ve been apparent in his expression, Mace leaned back in his chair and craned his neck to get a better view of the retreating waitress’s backside.

”Not to bad.”, he smirked, falsely.

Leaning forward once again and confident he had composed himself sufficiently, Mace gripped the hand he had “apparently” not seen proffered earlier in a firm, yet not overtly strong manner. ”That is a good question sir. Hopefully a little of all if I may be honest.”. Releasing the hand he took up knife and fork and began to eat politely. ”Excuse me, I’m famished. What brings you in here, sir?”, he reciprocated between mouthfuls.

[Milo L'Evienne]

Given the presence of the waitress, Barrett finished off his own drink and smiling only slightly at the girl…after all, she was much the same age as his own daughter, raised his glass as an indication that he’d welcome another. Only one more though, given the man was possessed of the sort of discipline that drew the line at two, the sort of self discipline his own employer found rather maddening in fact. Besides, he might scare up a game of cards later and he’d rather be sober should he manage it.

”A little of all,” he repeated when he released the fellow’s hand, then leaning back with a mere nod. ”Be my guest. I understand the food’s quite good here.” He hadn’t indulged in it himself of course, as he rarely managed time away from the Palace. But the food there wasn’t half bad either given he tended to take his off duty meals with the Rosemen. A well fed lot if ever he’d seen any.

”Relaxation,” he said when asked. ”Rare enough when I’ve an occupation that keeps me from it more often than not…Security, surveillance I guess you could say. But what of you sir? What is your business?”

[Mace Essex]

”Yes. The food here is quite good. But if truth be told I am rarely in Prime and I can count the number of times I’ve eaten here on one hand.”

Mace continued to eat as the man answered his own question; unfortunately it seemed his current companion was of much the same mind as him, a person who preferred to ask the questions and one not willing to volunteer too much information, lest it compromise him. Or so Mace thought.

The answer he received was actually quite curious. ”Security and surveillance?, Mace thought to himself as he chewed on a mouthful of Filet Mignon. ”Definitely interesting.

”I would’ve thought that openly admitting to your type of profession would be frowned upon. That is, unless, I’m completely off the mark.”, Mace was sure he wasn’t far from the mark however; he was merely attempting to extrapolate further information. But before he let the man reply, he continued himself with his own profession to further build the cautious rapport they had thus far established.

”Myself? I am a merchant of sorts. That is, I’m looking to build a trading company and am currently perusing my options. Before that I was a former Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy based in Taralon. My name is Mace Essex sir. And yours?”

[Milo L'Evienne]

Off the mark. Only slightly, Barrett thought with a wry grin while the girl returned with his drink. She received a smile and a nod of thanks for her troubles, before he turned his attention back to his tablemate. ”Ordinarily I’d agree with you there sir.” In truth he’d abandoned all hopes of anonymity long ago, the very brightening he’d agreed to keep a young Prefect still wet behind the ears out of trouble. It had been a challenge from the start and squashed any notions of keeping a low profile. It was a wonder Barrett hadn’t suffered a nervous breakdown by now.

”But circumstances have it that my service is not necessarily of the secretive sort. You could simply call me a personal bouncer in a fancy suit,” he suggested with a somewhat dry smile. There were those men that discouraged nonsense by maintaining visibility, and those men who did otherwise. Circumstances had Barrett being the first sort, though he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the latter sort either.

”But an ex navy man. An admirable calling, and a merchant, interesting indeed. What sort of goods are you interested in?” But as for his name, visible he might be, but his name was not nearly so well known as that outside of uncommonly tight circles. And so the occasional fib easily forgiven and even encouraged, given his responsibilities. ”Well met, Mr. Essex. Edward Bower.”

[Mace Essex]

”Admirable? Have you had anything to do with the Imperial Navy sir? The officers are nothing more than self interested bores and the sailors are a foul lot, for the most part. The only men I had, I have, any respect for are the Marines, a thankless job if ever there was one. They board ships, facing all the danger and receive no thanks. My fellow gentlemen officers were a pack of bastards, if you’ll forgive the term.” Mace took another bite of his meal and chewed with vigor before continuing.

”Imperial Marshall Gil’dae was a bloody idiot to be sure, too far removed form his role and not quite the leader the Empire needed for its armed forces.” The tone of his voice signaled that his opinion of the thankfully departed Motito Gil’dae was far lower than what could be said in polite company. ”And look at who he installed as the Naval commander; Alexis Sapientia. A child with water for bowels.” Another fierce bite, remonstrating was hungry work.

”Mr. Bower, I am an imperialist, always have, always will be, as is my father and his father before that but I cannot and will not sit idly aside as this Empire’s leadership fails to carry out the simplest matters required of it, such as appointing good, proven men in positions of authority. The regent has been in his job for little more than a season now but he has his work cut out. I would’ve liked to help in my own way but the structures in place in the Imperial Navy are rigid to say the least, as is the hierarchy. Besides, my personal manner of accomplishing particular tasks is far more, oblique, you could say. My former CO would’ve said sinister or perhaps baleful if he was being polite but when you are facing the wrath of an entire deck of irate pirates with nothing more than a cutlass and your own bully boy marines, you look for any advantage you can sir.”

Letting the matter sit for a little while, Mace broke his bread roll in half and used it to soak up the juices from his meal. Devouring it with immense enjoyment he gestured to the wait staff for another glass of rum, this time only a snifter however. He liked to drink, but not to excess. Self-control was something he was particularly proud of.

”Sorry if I was boring you. As I said I’m still looking at options for trade but I wish to open a mutually beneficial business relationship in Trellios. I’ve actually just returned from there and it is a marvelous place. But I’m being rude, talking about myself like this, I never usually go on, I must be tired. You said you are involved in security and surveillance but not necessarily of the secretive type? That to me suggests you act as a deterrent foremost, a preventative measure if you will, and for something, or someone with a public face. Someone you accompany almost all the time hence the lack of concern in confessing your profession. Tell me I’m wrong but I think you almost rue not being able to operate in secrecy, as once you did. Or at least with a much greater level of anonymity.

Leaning back in his chair, he sipped his sprit thoughtfully. Mace knew it was wrong, and rude to pry, but he reasoned he’d never see Mr. Bower again so why not take the chance. Besides, after his trip to Trellios he came to realize not everyone he met was as serious and straight laced as his family and former naval colleagues.

[Milo L'Evienne]

It was a rare humored smile that spread across Barrett’s face in response to the man’s take on the Imperial Navy. Not that the Eunesian possessed no sense of humor, far from it. Some would say that this man’s wit was one that could cut to the very quick. Just that it was more often well disguised with every manner of dignity. But apparently, he’d inadvertently struck a chord. ”I’ve not sir. Not personally. My arms experience was gained privately, and not through any official military service.”

As for his own take on the former Imperial Marshal, Barrett said nothing. His was a position that gave him access to many a conversation, none of which went any further at least on his own count. He’d stubbornly maintain that personal opinion garnered from those conversations had no place where his duties were concerned. As for master Sapientia, hardly a blink in response while he swallowed a portion of his bourbon and set the tumbler aside. ”I’m afraid I haven’t met the man Mr. Essex.” Luckily, Barrett didn’t suffer the unfortunate malady of stuttering when he fibbed, a curse occasionally visited on at least one other he knew.

”The Regent... I expect it takes time and a good deal of effort to work out the rot and mop up the mess. More difficult still when you’ve got the skies raining fire and rivers turned to blood with no explanation. But Trellios? Interesting. I’ve heard some about it but haven’t had the opportunity to see it for myself.”

He paused then, seeming to consider things before saying more. The impression he got from the man was that what he said was an indication of his character, what he said was what he meant. Those that strung lies together on the fly usually weren’t quite so opinionated, or willing to state those so plainly. This was someone who might do well if pointed in the right direction. Maybe. Whatever the case, it remained to be seen.

”If I ever preferred it to be otherwise, then it would be little sacrifice. There are others that are able and prefer to do otherwise, and on every level. You sound to me like a man that if given the opportunity, might consider doing the same. Or am I mistaken?”

[Mace Essex]

”I’m sure the regent is a good man, never met him let alone seen him but I know he has a political background rather than a military history. Removes any bias I suppose but sometimes I think, in moments of clarity, a beneficial dictator is what the Empire needs at the moment.” Mace smiled wryly at that last part then drained his glass and made a feeble attempted to stifle a yawn. ”Of course, the term is an oxymoron. I cannot recall one single historical example of a “beneficial dictator”. Another yawn. ”Sorry, fatigue seems to be besting me at the moment. Can I get you another drink?”

Turning in his seat to beckon for another round, it took Mace a few moments to register and process the last comment made by Bower and in particular, the trailing question.

”Was that a tentative offer?” Mace thought to himself.

Turning back, he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest in a posture that shouted caution before leaning forward, his hands laid on the table in front of him so that he did not have to speak loudly in the din. From under heavily hooded eyes he regarded the innocuous man for a moment before speaking in a low and serious tone.

”If the opportunity was to present itself, I’d give it very serious consideration, yes. Though people of that nature are rare individuals, often favored for their ability to think at opposing tangents to the problem at hand.” Mace was speaking in parables now, as well as making a subtle nod to his ability to think “obliquely” as he had so aptly put it beforehand. ”Though I suspect such talk is reserved for quieter venues.

At that moment the waitress arrived with the two drinks, one of rum and the other of bourbon. Mace motioned her to set down both of in front of him and signaled for her to leave them. ”You wanted this drink, yes?”

To anyone watching them it would look like a simple offering of refreshment. For the two men at the table it was a gesture that would either richen their relationship, or destroy it. The decision was now Mr. Bower’s.

[Milo L'Evienne]

A dictator…Barrett took it in with a thoughtful expression. He couldn’t say his charge could accurately be described as such, but surely there were situations where a semblance, a degree of such was beneficial. Whatever the case, to the offer of another drink, he tilted his head in agreement, a smile of thanks, though surely it surpassed the rule of two. A rather rigid rule, considering he was certainly made of stronger stuff than that.

And so while waiting, he merely watched the man’s reaction to his words, those words intended to invoke just that. A reaction he could get a read on. ”Thank you,” he said quietly to the waitress when she set a glass in front of him, and before she wandered off again. So he’d consider it, then so would Barrett as the fellow was right. Such individuals were rare indeed and ultimately, the assessment wasn’t his to make. But there seemed an honest interest, and a will to serve in light of that. ”It is,” he said of quieter venues before picking up his tumbler and swallowing a good portion of the bourbon.

”Thank you. Yes I did.” he added then. ”But then again, all things in moderation.” A slight smile in response as after another swallow, he set it down again with an air of finality. ”I hear the accommodations here are above par. Are you staying at the inn Mr. Essex?” he asked then with apparent idle curiosity, with more interest in truth in the length of the man’s stay.

[Mace Essex]

His offer accepted Mace relaxed slightly. He still had to be cautious but communication could now be fluent, each understood the clandestine nature of such discussions. Speaking in allegory facilitated open conversation, yet it remained closed to foreign ears, not that a casual listener would know any better however. Watching Bower take a slug of his spirit, Mace mirrored him, though he sipped slowly, a man of self control and moderation where appropriate, just as his present companion advocated.

”Yes, they are meant to be quiet decent. I would expect nothing less from the Crown. Their reputation is deserved. And as I have no contacts in the city, I shall call her home for the majority of my stay, which is as yet of an undetermined span.”

That he had no one else in Prime to which to turn to was not strictly true. He had one contact, a Mr. Hashshashin, an old Arakmatian friend of his fathers and long deceased mothers that Mace had never met before. His address nestled in his backpack still and upon his fathers urging, would look him up on the morrow.

”Do you live in Prime Mr. Bower? Or are you visiting our capital also?”

[Milo L'Evienne]

Good, Barrett thought when receiving his answer. An undetermined stay. Long as it was three brightenings or so, given already scheduled events, then good enough and if following his instincts along a logical path, the fellow should find himself receiving a message of sorts during that stay, and here at this inn. And from there, surely out of Barrett’s hands for the most part. ”The capitol city has plenty to keep one busy, whether visiting or residing in it. Some say it has a rather cold and lifeless feel to it these brightenings. Of course,” he added with a slight frown. ”a river turned to blood in light of everything else that’s occurred certainly doesn’t lend itself to a festive air.”

”But as for myself?” he asked, and leaning back in his chair, cradled the half filled tumbler between his hands. Difficult question in truth, as even without his current employ, he’d a daughter, her husband and a new grand-daughter in the city. That, in fact, had been somewhat of a coincidence given the unpredictable nature of the Aethercrown. He’d actually been considering moving to Prime, before being asked back into service. Worked out nicely. But live in Prime…temporarily, permanently, who knew? Made the difference between moving in, and just visiting. And so he smiled an odd smile that he was known for, after all, much still depended on the whims of the Aethercrown. ”I guess you could say that I’m visiting, Mr. Essex, while entertaining an option to stay on.”

[Mace Essex]

With a measured stare, Mace absorbed everything that Bower had to say. Yes, fire raining from the sky was strange, yes, a river of blood would cause mass panic but that was the thing that Mace lived for, he found such phenomena exciting. Commonly accepted norms did not apply to him, they never would. His was a life less ordinary, and each twist in fate wasn’t so much a hurdle as it was an adventure.

”I’m sure it does Mr. Bower. It is the largest city in the Empire and the masses that populate her only