(1874-02-20) Dinner with the Dean
Dinner with the Dean
Summary: Ludovic invites Florian to share the evening meal. They talk in depths about the refugee problem.
Date: 20th feb 2018
Related: Refers to the qatunax situation and the d'korbina winter tourney
NPCs: None
Players:
Florian  Ludovic  

Great Hall, Daemon's Hall, Hellsmouth county, Aequor
The main hall itself is dominated by the large daemon's horns that are hung upon the main wall opposite the great entrance, beneath which sits a dais and the liege Lord's chair. A great fireplace ensures a certain warmth, though the cold stone walls throughout the castle ensure that heat is sparse.
20th Feb 1874

Ludovic has been having one of those bad weeks and it shows in the line of his shoulders and the tendency of his smile to fall away when he thinks nobody is paying attention. Beyond that he seems his usual fairly happy self, telling jokes to the knights as people settle into the scenes. As the actual dinner bell is sounded he grins at the other man, slapping him on the back and then moves off to the head table. Today Florian has been invited to sit up there. The other guests are Hilda (his mother) and a trio of women who are all involved in their own conversations. "Its good to see you again Florian."


A few things, perhaps, strike Ludovic as familiar. The gait, being one, ambiguous with its gentle grace— Familiar, as if at home with the circles of high propriety, and dance. The other, is the design of the brooch.

If able to be recalled, someone familiar wore this upon their ears.

Florian dips into a bow, spine allowing it with grace, "Your Excellency t'is a pleasure to see you well." They greet, to Ludovic, and, as they are released from the bow, however, their gaze turns to Hilda, as she's seen, "My Lady." Another bow is given, despite the lack of need for it, considering the highest rank has been bowed to already— Perhaps an unneeded show of respect, but one they offer.

They remain silent, until spoken to, and further invited.


Ludovic takes his seat and waves for Florian to take his-hers. "Thank you again for you, and your guilds, help during the tournament." he says comfortably. "It would not have gone so smoothly if we didnt have such skilled help." A quick grin is given across. "Might have been one or two knights I wish you didnt do such a good job on but, what can you do, huh?"


"I'm afraid that just with violence in conflict, one can heal, as well as hurt, the incorrect person." They say, as their expression allows for a light smirk. Really, just a raise of the lip, as if bound by social convention from doing much more, as they dip their head, and take their seat, "Our College, My Lord, tries its hardest to lend aide to Aqueor and her conflicts. … It is good, however, for yourself, and His Lordship…" They blink, for a moment, with a furrowed brow, as they cant their head, "I'm afraid I did not catch his name. He was of noble blood, and feared losing some part of his body. … Nevertheless, it is good for the Kingdom, that at least the two of you are able to retain good health and humour." They say, as they settle into their chair, eyes slowly gazing before the meal.

They seem to, however, rather than focus on the food, focus on the eatingware laid out, with a quick glance, as if taking note of what's there— To use to maximum effect, of course. One does not want to offend a Lord.


Ludovic is one of those Lords who, whilst clearly educated to a high standard, has spent far to much time in the field. The core of social convention is observed, without conscious thought, but the finest details are sometimes missed. In his favor this also translates to him saying thanks to the server who fills his goblet and whilst he doesn't actively thank the server that delivers his plate he does give them a warm smile. "You did good here." He adds to Florian's words. "And I'll be sure to pass that along. I know the value of a good word." Another smile is offered to Florian. "Not sure which Lord you're speaking of but I gotta admit that I too fear losing limb more than life. Odd that really. Its not as if I couldn't live without an arm if I really had too. So its strange when the thought of one leaves you colder than the other." He helps himself to some meat off the serving platter and then puts the platter down before Florian. D'korbina beef of course. The only place in the kingdom where its so common as to be boring. "What do you think of my County? Have you found time to enjoy your visit?"

Ludovic just gives Florian an easy grin. "Not sure how to take that." he admits. "My renown is that of a warrior, not a great ruler. My father was the man who build this house up to what it is today. Just hope I can do half of what he did before handing things on to the children." He tucks into his own food, evidently having the appetite of a warrior as well, turning to look at Florian again, once the edge of hunger has been removed, to say. "It is always good when the church is pleased."


"If I were to lose a few fingers, My Lord, I would likely take the vows and meet my death on the fields." Florian says, as if… This comment were the most normal thing in the world to them. A grateful dip of the head is given to the servantry— Not like they can afford to take such a thing for granted, like a Lordling, after all. Their eyes trace over to the man, however, only eating once it is tactful to do so, but before, saying… "You, on the other hand, My Lord, can still do great works without such parts… Though they do help, yes?" They softly dip their head.

"Your County is as expected of a man of your renown, My Lord." =Etiquette=, Florian says as they slowly begin to use the utensils provided in slow movements, to begin to eat, "His Excellency of the Church, whom insisted my attendance to your grand evening of dance was delighted as well." They offer, in placating praise, as their teeth softly tear at the meat, sinking in.


Ludovic just gives Florian an easy grin. "Not sure how to take that." he admits. "My renown is that of a warrior, not a great ruler. My father was the man who build this house up to what it is today. Just hope I can do half of what he did before handing things on to the children." He tucks into his own food, evidently having the appetite of a warrior as well, turning to look at Florian again, once the edge of hunger has been removed, to say. "It is always good when the church is pleased."

"And, from what I understand and have seen, you have upheld your Dynasty and Holdings." They remind, as if the works of his blood were just as much his own than his ancestors, as they seem to… Eat slowly. By the time Ludovic scarfs down most of his food, they seem to have only gotten a quarter of the way through their portion of beef. Not doing the disservice of judging the food badly, but seemingly just pacing it out, as it were. … Or perhaps their gut is only a fourth of the size of Ludovic's…

"Indeed. … Pray tell, My Lord, but how fares your son?" They inquire, as a sip of the goblet is taken.


Ludovic smiles at her-his praise. "That is kind of you to say. Thank you." He reaches for some more food before the following question gains a slight frown. "Winter is a difficult time for infants, as I am sure you are all to aware. He is a little sick right now but the nannies assure me it is normal. So I do my best not to worry."


Florian dips their head softly, as they continue their moderate pace. However… They seem to be favoring the wine. Perhaps a failing of their pace, but the Dean seems to nurse his vice, as food is eaten, and then swallowed, "Children… Have the tendency, Your Excellency, to be very much imbalanced… They are without the fortification of age." Their eyes glint over at Ludovic, as their lips part, from the goblet, swallowing, "If you wish, My Lord, I've a pressed herb that could serve the child well, if applied as salve, in these colder months. Something to bolster Sanguine, and good health."


Ludovic smiles gratefully. "I am sure that will be greatly appreciated. Thank you Dean." He picks up his own goblet and then looks back to Florian. Further words come to mind before being shoved away as too gloomy and then he finds something that he doesn't mind speaking of. "It will be calving time soon. I expect to hold a celebration, or at least a game of calf-chase, about that time. Do you think you will still be here or will duty call you away?"


=Etiquette= Lips press upon the goblet. Bound to the Bottle, as it were, before… Only a modest sip is taken. Restraint. The goblet is placed down, as the knife reaches the beef, slicing at it… "I am here at your convenience and leisure, Your Excellency." They say, with a slow dip of the head, "With the hospitality I was shown by yourself, and your House's guests and honorable members, I would be most happy to attend."


"Good. Thats good." Ludovic says, smiling again as he replies. "I'm glad nobody has offended you. We've had some controversial guests of late and i'd hate for that to have put you off." he makes eye contact with a server and they move across to refill cups. "It's been a difficult few weeks. It's important that I know everyone is happy."


A soft chuckle is offered, to Ludovic, "I've seen enough of the Galenthian Court. … You needn't worry of my blood causing any issues, as it were." They make mention, softly.

As this is said, a drink is taken. A hand is shifted to the cup of the goblet, tipping it. A queer time to drink, but a stalemate nonetheless. A twitch of the lip. A strange aftertaste, or a distaste for Galenthians? If Ludovic cares to pry, such a thing is hard to discern, but able to be noticed. Florian simply… Does a good enough job at keeping it vague.

"The inn you offered my stay in." They softly chuckle, as if thinking back to the memory of it, "That was a very kind gesture, Your Excellency."


Ludovic nods slowly, as if absorbing what is said about the blood. "It was a small thing. I am pleased that it gave you comfort." He leans towards her a little, lowering his voice as if to share a snippet of gossip or a secret. "I would benefit from some time with a tutor in the art of stewardship. Someone skilled with the particular issues I am facing of late. Do you think you could make that happen?"


Florian simply leans forward, as Ludovic does. As if the two were simply a pair of gossiping scullery maids. Their soft features simply giving a slow, careful nod, as the man gives his words, "… Of course, Your Excellency." They answer, with a smooth movement of their lips, "The College is loyal to Aequor, after all. We are here, at your leisure." Their eyelashes dart, as their pupils scan at Ludovic, "I will assist in ways I can, personally, Your Excellency. Though this will require red ink, and the appropriate crowns to assist."


"Pretty sure theres nothing that can be fixed merely by throwing crowns at it." Ludovic returns. He looks comfortable with the discussion, dropping any pretense of subterfuge and instead reaching for a refill. "I've an excellent education, like you'd expect, but it was made with the expectation that I'd be managing a piece of these lands and not the entirety. Think I managed alright so far, really. Least I think the sort of problems we've seen are mostly just the sort that come from the hand over. Nobody really expected my father would pass so soon."


"Shrewd investment is the cornerstone to a stable realm, your Excellency. … Unreliable routes often bleed, without properly equipped patrols. Towns prosper less in taxes, without the means of flourish." Florian reminds— Making clear the lack of intrigue and subterfuge. Instead relaying a simple truth of matters of stewarding, "I would be honored, however, to accept you within my tutelage, if you deem it necessary." They fold their hands over their lap.

Florian lets out a breath, however, before dipping their head, "The loss of your late father, Your Excellency, I'm sure weighs heavily upon your head. … You are wise to approach others, to ease your burden."


"We have strong investments." Ludovic agrees with a nod. "Everything was running fantastically before the qatunax came. So I'm not too worried about that side of things although, I guess, the longer it gets put off the more likely I am to lose something I cant replace. And Lady Isolde's been a true gift from the One." He smiles at Florian. "But its not right for me to be so reliant on delegation. I want to be a good Viscount, not just, well." He gives her a quick grin. "Would be easy just to hire people and get on my horse and only come back for money. Just aint my way."


Florian simply blinks, at the man's words. They seem to take a breath in, through those soft lips, as they consider his approach to things, "Perhaps, your Excellency, but there is a hierarchy of your House's servants for reasons. … You cannot be expected to handle all things, matters small especially, after all." They offer, in a calm bit of reassurance, in that matter. Their eyes remain upon the man, as they consider him, "All I require is the appropriate ink, and a letter detailing what ails you, Your Excellency, and we can begin with the more pressing matters. … I've always found a lesson to be best learned upon action, rather than paper."


Ludovic gives a dark chuckle. "Don't think I could find a pot of ink deep enough to cover all of that Dean." He gives a loose shrug, putting it all behind him. "Think I've found a good steward." he says. "I'm not planning to do everything but, I should at least be able to look over what she's done and understand it fully right? And what about when theres a few paths to be taken. I don't have to be the one that plans where every last crown goes, but I do have to be able to make an informed decision about which path is best. Its that sort of tuition i need." he nods. "Gotta say I suspect it will be better done through action. I'm not wanting to go get out the books tonight though. So, maybe, we can talk about something else." He takes a swig from his drink, eyes reflecting thought. "Alright. Hows about this one. The last couple of raids brought a couple of dozen refugees back with them. Some kids, some not. Some are dying, some not, but they are all reliant on charity for now. How would you recommend I go about finding all these people work?"


"I presume the refugees have all been assigned to an almshouse." Florian begins, as they take a breath, and a gulp of the drink next to them. Thinking something over in a matter of quick maths, "Infrastructure, is often a use of the displaced. To reclaim help reclaim roads that would be more commonly travelled, if they allowed the better transport of goods." They suggest, as their eyes scan at the nobleman, seemingly mulling something over, before nodding, "Any man and woman of age, and ability of body, should be put to work there. Have them prepared to assist in the reclaiming of land, and you will find that prosperity will return, slowly, as well as reinforcements and lines of supply to suffer less complications."

Florian simply blinks, however, as their lips part once more, drawing a quiet breath, "They will find use for their skills. The wise woman will heal those with blisters. The mason will lay stone. The carpenter will repair bridges and home. … Giving them purpose, and a means to provide, will give the common heads of house a reparation of pride in self and Duchy." They offer, as they swirl the cup in their hand, thinking, as they set their shoulders, allowing a distinct crackling, "Of course. But it's also a steward's work to present the choices in a way you may understand, so that you may best choose what is right for your lands."

Florian folds their hands, once more over their lap, however, as they dip their head, "If you wish for me to give counsel, Your Excellency, and assist in matters of path and divergence… I will remain within your lands for a while longer, at your allowance."


"The important roads are all vir sidus made, and well maintained, so its going to be hard to find much work there." Ludovic explains. "And I don't really have the funds to go building anything serious. I mean." he thinks on it. "I guess I could. The last twenty years or so were really strong. In fact Lady Isolde suggested we should step up horse breeding here in the county so that our horses would be an actual export." He frowns, thinking and then shakes his head. "But that would just need a few barns wouldn't it?"

"If it was just that group of refugees it would be easy. I could just do stuff like giving mothers handmaid an assistant but its not just these few. I covered it up till now by giving them all work for the tourney, but I cant exactly keep throwing tourneys." He lets that sink in, still thinking over the words. "I'll have to think about reclaiming land. They were displaced by the Qatunax so nothing really comes to mind."

He blinks at Florian's offer to stay and give counsel. "I'd be honored if you stayed Dean. In fact, I was hoping the d'medici might be willing to take over their basic needs. Medicine, shelter, security, food and all that sort of thing. It would be good if I could move some of my people off and you did a great job for the tourney."


Florian tilts their head, perhaps a bit confusedly, "Well, yes, Your Excellency. But the Vir Sidus, I'm afraid, did not account for proliferation." They explain, with a motion of the hand, "For instance, while a road may lead to the Capitol of your lands— It is but one city. Additional roads must be constructed— Some already exist, though as trails, rather than what you may be accustomed to. … Widening them to allow for wagons, and safening them, will increase the size of your hamlets, allowing them to prosper into towns."

"… There is not a single farmer with enough lands to sate your local Guilds' needs, in regards to trade. Land can still be tilled." Florian explains, thinking about things on a more applicable level— But not necessarily one that's a participative activity for Ludovic, "And most certainly your outlying towns, Your Excellency, would benefit greatly from trade. While it would take time… Trade, will allow your means to fund your soldiers and keep a large militia."


"Ah so." Ludovic says. "You are thinking of projects to encourage these people to settle in other towns then? Better roads would definitely be part of that, your right." He smiles a little guiltily. "I always keep thinking they will just be going home this year but I suppose, even if I did manage to push the qatunax all the way back over the old border - a lot of those people wont want to go back." He frowns in thought as he drinks some more of his alcohol. Eventually saying. "They have different skillsets than our people too. So that might even increase the goods we make ourselves. Which, like you said, is good for trade." A wry smile. "Maybe i'll even get lucky and one of them will know how to make d'mollari's whiskey."


"Your Excellency, you are their Lord Protector." Florian reminds, as they take a drink of their cup, offering a light smile to Ludovic, "Their lands have been tainted, and torn from their hands. To what, will they return to? Graves, burnt homes, and ruined roads. … Those lands, will have to be retaken in time. Not from the enemy alone, but from destruction, and the enemy itself." Their neck slowly crackles, as they rotate their neck, but they dip their head, "Perhaps, Your Excellency, you could… Offer incentive, to breeders of horses, and brewers of brandy. I'm certain the local merchants would be quick, to house a prospective man or woman of trade, if it meant the proliferation of trade knowledge."

The skin would have flushed a brilliant pink, if it weren't from the loss of blood, from the flogging they had received for their self-imposed penance. The powders see to it that the faint discoloration that remains from the flustering not be seen, "Please, Your Excellency. You needn't… Lower, yourself, to be honored by my presence here. Your courtesy humbles me." They offer, as if… Attempting to deflect the compliment, and return it right back.

Florian considers something, before dipping their head, "We could handle such an undertaking, yes. Though, an agreement would likely have to be reached, for the expenditure of labor."


Ludovic smiles at the returned compliments, accepting them without extra comment. "It is jarring to remember that this is not a traditional war." he replies. "I've never fought against a foe that would destroy entire villages like this. If we'd lost those lands to anyone else then what I was thinking would have been right I expect. These though." he nods, frowning. "They don't have much to go back to. The qatunax don't seem to be destroying the infrastructure though." A snippet of information on the enemy. "They don't even kill everyone anymore. Mostly they seem to be gathering them up and herding them off to the One knows what."

He gives a brief nod at the answer to his suggestion that the d'medici could take over the displaced and the refugees. As if to say 'of course' "Tell us how much you would need to do it and we will see if it works out."

"I might offer some incentives for people to take apprentices." Ludovic suggests. "And maybe we'll look at ways to set up some of the others with businesses again. You've given me a lot to consider."


A blink.

"I suppose there are a great many reasons why savage wish for… Intact, bodies." They think, outwardly, with a knitting of their lips. Their expression offering nothing hopeful in that regard. No words of advice, no blathermouthing about possibilities.

An unheard understanding.

"I will send you a letter in some time, then?" They tilt their head, as if quite willing to strike a deal, simply requiring time to draft one, "If you ever require further help with your consideration, I will be at the same Inn, in which you provided a room. Simply send a missive, or visit, Your Excellency. My lamp remains lit even at late hours."


"I will keep that in mind Dean." Ludovic says. "We'll talk more about the responsibilities another time."

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