Pigstickers and Battlefield Pork

[Nat Candle]

February 6th

Battlefield Park.

Nat was familiar with it, of course. He had wandered both the grounds and the halls of the Manor, on and off, through three barons and had acquainted himself well enough with a great many of its more accessible features. The restless spirits themselves rarely bothered him but were always worth regular wary glances cut along his peripheral vision, the byproduct of a lifetime of expecting things to go sideways just as often as he took things on faith. The young seeming wanderer was something of an optimist but he also wasn’t a fool.

He also hadn’t been a very good squire.

For everything he had sussed out about the district and its centerpiece, there were five things he had never made it a point to know about the ones who held it during his times in possession of the spear. Good intentions and sincere curiosity only extended so far when other affairs pulled him away or an entirely different pull kept him lingering overlong in the company of a different Baron. In the end, when Nayun abdicated, his regrets balanced evenly enough with his relief, and it became a matter to ponder another time. That time came when Mallory’s offer to ranking duelists and the eventual advent of his own rise to Warlord. The idea was, if nothing else, as intriguing as the person making the offer, and it struck him (in all of his cautious optimism) as a good a time as any to get better feeling on someone who was prominent in some of the circles he skirted the edge of and whose very nature seemed to give him pause on a deeper level.

In the end, it was how Nat found himself on the approach to the manor, his boots crunching through the snow and his breath puffing out in visible bursts against the biting cold. He was nothing if not consistent in his dress, almost dapper in neat but serviceable trousers, buttoned shirt, and vest, all in warm earthy tones that were contrasted sharply by a hand-sewn blue pocket square. The heaver winter jacket did very little to conceal the added girth of a heavy leather gun belt that bore the weight of slanted holsters that were occupied by a well-maintained pair of pistols and the hilt of a scabbarded sword that poked out from the back of his coat collar. His trail hat, as ever, remained the same.

The most striking difference came in the form of a plastic, triple-layered for strength, that was laden with various sized cartons that steamed in the frigid air and smelled positively delightful.

When you came calling, it was always good to come bearing gifts.

The contents of the plastic bag were enough to call out the Baroness. There was something about the smell of hot food on a cold day that reached out to everyone passing by like a siren song; and as someone who had spent several winters pilfering such meals, she was especially vulnerable to its temptation.

Mallory came around from the side of the manor house, where the wind blew a trail of smoke from the old forge tucked away behind it. She was dressed for work, her jeans and boots muddy from digging, and much of the rest of her marked with soot from tending to the forge. She jammed her hands into her coat pockets and hurried over, grinning as she caught sight of the gifts he bore: “You’re a very smart man, Mr. Candle.”

“You can call me Nat if you like,” he told her with unabashed amusement, using his free hand to doff his favored trail hat in a polite greeting. “We kept something regrettable from happening together once. I’d say that’s worth at least a little familiarity. It’s been such a busy day, I sort of skipped over having a meal, so I didn’t think it would be impolite to bring something to eat so long as there was more than enough to share. It’s becomin’ something of a habit of mine, it would seem.”

Up close, Nat lost only a little of his polish. The fit of his trousers, shirt, and vest were nearly impeccable, likely even tailored despite the fact that the material was of median quality, but it seemed almost as though he didn’t fill them out quite as much as he should. With a height just a touch above average, broad shoulders, and a slim waist, it gave him rangy look. The neat trim of his hair beneath the hat and few days growth of scruff made for another contrast, just as much as youthful features did with the worldly wariness of his eyes, pale blue rimmed with a subtler silver-grey that never quite met hers all the way. The studious and friendly wanderer had mastered the art of eye contact without truly locking gazes.

“Sharing a meal together is just as good for pleasure as it is for business.”

“Nat. Then you can call me Mal,” she said with an easy grin, and led the way into the old officers’ quarters that served as the manor house.

The chilling shapes in lit windows that the witch left every night to ward off interlopers were not visible in broad daylight, but the windows themselves gave off the eerie impression of being watched on approach to the door. There were a few murmured syllables of Latin to accompany Mallory turning the key, before the drafty old house admitted them.

“I haven’t been staying here at all,” she said in an apologetic tone as they passed by rooms with covered furniture and unlit fireplaces, “except twice when I passed out reading. But I’ve been keeping the kitchen warm, in case of guests.”

There were sounds of activity from the kitchen as they approached, someone stoking the fire, then setting a tea kettle to warm, but no one was there when they entered. Whoever it was had also laid out dishes and utensils in anticipation of their meal. “Pleasure and business?” she said, circling back to what he’d said earlier as they sat down to eat.

“I’ve lived in worse places.” Nat shrugged and smiled as he followed after her. “I even had quarters here during Ali, Sabine, and Nayun’s reigns, though I only used them when the odd bit of business kept me in the city too long. I live in a very small community outside the city proper, though I am currently in the process of relocating to accommodations inside now that I’m working for Miss and Miss Takamine Of No Relation. The sooner I can find something that fits my peculiar circumstances the better, but until then on the rare occasion I can’t make it home on a given night, there’s my office down in the Arena and Annex of Eden is generous enough to give me an open invitation to her sofa.”

Even though he was her guest, when they reached the kitchen and the places laid out for them, Nat was immediately moving to open containers and arrange them as if he were the host. Things were lined up in orderly fashion, though not compulsively, and the empty bag was folded over and tucked beneath one of the heavier containers for use when the food was gone or ready to be put away. Mallory’s curiosity was worth a smile that was wry but sincere. “The business would be in the form of your offer of crafting services for those who gain rank in Duel of Swords. I’m not sure who has taken you up on the offer, but possibilities of such a boon are both generous and promising. I’m interested. Please? The reality is, you and I move in some of the same social circles, or at least you exist firmly in ones I skirt. I don’t have very many friends, precious few really, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have at least another positive acquaintance.”

Mallory hummed at his living situation and nodded sympathetically -- she could relate to worse places -- but stayed quiet until after the subject of weapons had come up. “Something tells me it’s gonna be an offhand weapon you’re after,” Mallory said, narrowing her eyes slyly at him before she took her first bite of lunch. “A knife or even a hatchet can be good company for a sword in your main hand,” gesturing with her glove-clad right hand to indicate a thrust. She had kept her right hand covered in public at most times for the last few weeks, and now was no exception. “And I like to think we could be friends, Nat... You’re friends with Eden, and you helped Penny in a situation where a lot of people would’ve made that worse. Just don’t take it personally if I end up putting your new weapon to the test soon,” she added. “Overlord Isle... That’s one way to secure new accommodations.”

Nat smiled and there was an unperturbed good humor to it.

“Maybe. Or something with more functionality than a sword. A sword is made for only one thing, where as a good hunting knife or handaxe have more utilitarian purposes that just doin’ harm to someone else.” He picked at his plateful of food, putting down a mouthful here and there but without any sense of urgency. When the witch touched upon friendships and something a little less friends, the sincerity of his good nature dimmed only a little and only to soften his features in resignation. “Eden is very dear to me and I have come to think pretty highly of Penny too. I don’t like subscribing to the notion that a problem only has one unavoidable solution, even if I’m forced to acknowledge it sometimes. I think, in a very sad way, Penny needed help much more than those kids that night. I’m only glad it ended before any of us ran out of options.”

To the implication of potential new accommodations, Nat snorted a laugh. “While I’d very much like to see and explore the Overlord’s Isle, I think it might be a little too big and opulent for my tastes. Definitely not my style. But I imagine you’re onto something if you think I’ll be seeing you before I have a chance to match blades with Matt Simon, if his treatment of Gren Blockman is any indication. If he’s not going to afford at least some level of respect for someone with Gren’s character and history in the duels, I imagine I won’t get much better. And if so? So be it. In the end it’s a game where the only stake is my pride and money I’m used to doing without anyway, so I have far more to gain than to lose.”

“You know... for all the reading I did about the history of dueling here, the way that challenge played out caught me by surprise. I knew Tests of Worthiness implied something in the name, that a challenger did or didn’t need to prove they were worth fighting against a title-holder... but I didn’t think about that until after the dust settled.” She shrugged, then, and took another forkful of food. “I’m still learning. I have no idea if Matt will call on me again, or if he just wanted to shake things up after a quiet season. But it is just a game with pride on the line... unlike Magic,” she added with a wink. “I could’ve done amazing things with Matt’s tower...”

She set her fork down and thought for a moment. “You know... I think we have a weapon you’d like. Some of the orcs leaving town after Orktoberfest dropped off antlers here, sort of a thank-you-slash-apology for poaching on the grounds. Izumi’s started using them for a set of knives and axes -- I think half a dozen to choose from.”

“It’s a mechanic,” Nat said and shrugged, stuffing a forkful of food into his mouth and chewing on it for a time. “Something that enhances the flavor of the sport. I think it and the notions of being Loyal or a Renegade just add nuance to an already adversarial game. Clearly, though, some of the folks around here are more passionate about it than others. I can respect that but I also don’t know if I want those sorts of things to rule my decision-makin’. I don’t have much in the way of pride.” His smile was rueful. “But I do like seeing an underdog come out on top. In this case, clearly I’m the underdog.”

The suggestion she made clearly piqued the wanderer’s interest. “Oh yeah? That sounds about up my river.”

“Well, underdog...” she said as she took another forkful of food. “Soon as we’re done? We’ll take a look.” She chewed quietly for a few moments. “Can I ask what you’re planning to do with all that cash if you win?”

“My whole day is open.” The statement was made with spread hand and a fork with a piece of shrimp on the end of it. Nat was, of course, smiling. At least until Mallory asked her question. It was worth something a little more wan. “A very important research project regarding various magic effects of certain items and how they can be dismantled, retooled, and re-implemented into new vessels with more defined effects.”

“That... is very interesting. And tricky. Safiya and I get a lot of requests to transfer enchantments -- her moreso -- and we turn more down than we take on. Though every case is different...” Her interest had been piqued, clearly, but after a few more bites she put a hand up: “But it’s fine if it’s none of my business.”

“It’s not about not making it your business.” Nat confided only as much as he needed to in the moment. He seemed to like Mallory well enough but she was still something of an unknown quantity. “The item in question is very powerful and very dangerous, and I have concerns over it fallin’ into the wrong hands.”

“Does altering and transferring that power into a new vessel make it... safer?” She kept picking at her lunch. “I’ve handled -- and relinquished -- a few things that I’d describe the same way. Objects I’d work very hard to keep out of the wrong hands.”

Nat nodded.

“Safer and gives it a cleaner purpose.” There was a mix of emotions that churned in the wanderer’s expression as he sought to explain things to the Baroness as carefully as he could. It was clear that he had some unpleasant personal experience with the focus of the topic. “I have an ongoing problem of a personal nature that I’d like to resolve. Finding a constructive way to alter the nature of this item might help me solve that problem. Solve it for me and other folks like me. Folks like our mutual friend Penny.”

That piece of information caught Mallory by surprise, clearly written on her face. She set what was left of her meal aside and leaned forward to frown at Nat. “If there’s any way I can help Penny, I’ll gladly--” Now it was her turn to pause, to carefully consider the extent to which she could trust the other man. There were many blanks she had not yet filled in... “Does she know you’re working on this?”

“No,” he said flatly and shook his head. “My theory is sound and based off of other repurposing experiments I’ve undertaken in the past, but theory isn’t reality. I’m already getting my own hopes up that this will bear some fruit but I wouldn’t want to get hers up only to let her down. We have a tentative friendship brewing and I doubt such a significant disappointment would help.”

His answer seemed to ease her caution somewhat. “Yeah, I can understand that... Well, whatever it is -- especially if it can help Penny -- if you want my help on it or Safiya’s, let me know. Like I said, we do turn down a lot of these requests... but I can only imagine we’d say no to this if we thought it was impossible.”

The wandered seems to consider this for a time. He would eat a little, glancing from the food on his plate to the spartan austerity of the kitchen and then return his gave to Mal. His eyes never met hers, not really. Nat never looked anyone directly in the eyes and had long ago mastered the art of eye-contact without that full aligned meeting. It didn’t prevent him from studying the young woman before him, in all of her subdued grace and the stark differences that had set her apart from most humans. He was naturally cautious with certain subjects, this specific item in his possession most of all.

“I have a makeshift lab. Na-Rae pays me a good, honest wage but I can only improvise on spell components so much before I need to seriously consider how much money my penchant for magic research is worth at any given time. Or project. In this case, my interest and passion for this project led to the situation you currently see unfolding with Mister Simon. I’ll either come away with the bounty and a potentially greater revenue stream or my current efforts will continue to plod along. Either way, I think the research and experimentation will take far longer than I’d like, but such is the way of things. I don’t know this Safiya, but I think I am at least comfortable enough with you at this point that I’d like your opinion.”

Mallory nodded. “With enough information, I can at least give you an idea of price. But for six thousand nobles...” The witch had to take a moment to think, tapping her middle finger against the base of one horn. “...barring extraordinary component costs, that’s about four hundred working hours of my undivided attention. But that depends on a lot of things... and I might be able to do this for a lot less.” She steepled her fingers. “So what is it you need done?”

Nat winced at price and quickly shook his head. “I’m not looking for anyone to do all of the work for me. I’m very interested in figuring this all out on my own and, no offense intended to you and your partner, but I have zero intentions of letting the item out of my possession. I would welcome any help you’re willing to give and I will certainly be willing to pay, within my means, but I have a very personal investment in the item in its current incarnation and more so with the intended result I want. Ultimately, what I need is to figure out the source of the magic fueling the enchantment and deduce out to break the enchantment itself into its core equations and reroute them to a new but similar purpose.”

“Well... as I said, transferring something like that can be... tricky. But the source itself?” She withdrew her left hand from her right, running her left ring finger across her palm as her expression turned thoughtful. “Without a doubt. If I can examine the item, I can figure that out. It shouldn’t take long.”

Nat nodded along, his brows furrowed despite being agreeable. Tentatively, anyway. “I keep a makeshift workshop and laboratory down in one of the old Annex storage rooms. It’s nice: fireproof, not much noise escapes. Thick, sturdy doors. I know you’re pretty busy with any number of things, so there’s no rush. At the very least, I’d appreciate a second opinion of a few things of note. I’ll even spring for lunch at the bistro.”

“So you’re saying if we blow ourselves up, no one will know for a while.” Mallory smirked — and thought better of it, enough to put a hand up and add, “Kidding. I’m no alchemist. Things are pretty busy for me, yeah, but we can do that soon.”

She settled her fork onto her plate and stretched in her seat with a quiet sigh. It had been good pork. “C’mon. Let’s have a look at those weapons. I’m not sending you home empty-handed.”


((OOC: All thanks imaginable to the player of Mallory for the great scene!))