Tea for two

Entrance Hall

You find yourself standing in an outrageously long, yet narrow room. The walls reach several dozen feet in height and the ceiling is draped in an undeterminable mural. The coolness of the dark stone marblesque walls radiates throughout the room, giving it a more than eerie atmosphere. All along the walls, huge, thick torches flicker at a height almost double that of any ordinary man. Their light draws out shadows of guards and of the tall, cylindricle support towers. At the far northern end, the room comes stops at a set of humongous broad doors, guarded by yet another of the Lord Mirag\'s most trusted soldiers.

Obvious exits:

Oak Door leads to The Shrine.

Archway leads to Function Room.

Broad Doors leads to Black Tower Foyer.

Gate leads to Black Tower Grounds.

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[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:

Nighttime on Hevensday, Day 12 of October.

Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 15:50:55 MDT on Sun Apr 26 2009.

IC year: 3046

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[Mirag(#31700)] A table has been neatly laid for tea. Small pastries, a container with tea. Cups. The table is draped with black this late afternoon and the one inhabitant of the room is herself clothed heavily in black lace. The tea remains untouched as she sits by the window, her hands folded in her lap, waiting.

Footsteps sound in the corridor, a soft knock, a gruff voice announces, \"The scribe\'s here. Barzhol- eh, Barzhil, I mean\". ... and then into the room is ushered a thin, sharp-boned youth, brown of skin and hair. A leather satchel is slung over his shoulder it has clearly been opened (perhaps by the zealous guard who even now stands at the youth\'s side?) and a few blank rolls of parchment protrude from it.

The newcomer clears his throat, swallowing nervously, and in a dry, slightly husky voice. \"Good afternoon, Regent. Uzay has hired me to assist with the record-keeping. How may I be of service?\"

[Mirag(#31700)] \"You might start by explaining to me why I have a note from Farside Tower complaining of you being hired into my service?\" the willowy woman says, her voice slightly bemused as she gestures to the table with the tea things. There is a slight nod to the guard.

The young scribe, Barzhil, blinks. \"There was? I ... ah, I assure you I was quite unaware of this.\" He swallows again, his adam\'s apple bobbing up and down on his scrawny neck. \"Dear me, that is surely most unfortunate. I had been looking forward to a mutually profitable business relationship. What are the grounds for complaint?\"

He walks toward the table, but does not sit as yet.

[Mirag(#31700)] \"Apparently,\" the willowy woman\'s voice is still tinged with amusement as she moves towards the table herself, \"Farside is convinced that I am trying to steal you...or perhaps that they had an exclusive relationship?\" There is a pause. \"Do you prefer your tea sweet?\"

Barzhil looks flustered. \"But ... it has always been the tradition that persons of humble means such as myself must earn a living!\" he protests, folding his hands together. \"It as not as though the Steward has asked for a change of loyalties. He merely wishes to make use of my pen.\" At this he gives a thin smile. \"And I prefer my tea plain, thank you. I find that too much honey deadens the palate.\"

[Mirag(#31700)] Pouring the tea, the willowy woman nods, moving a cup near the scribe before sitting down and smoothing her dress. \"I shall soothe their minds and maintain your contract,\" she says, her voice meant to be calming. \"But first I wished to know something of you.

\"That is really very kind of you.\" The young man essays another, rather nervous smile as he, too, seats himself. \"What is it you wish to know, Regent? There really is very little to tell. I am the third son of Hilam - he is a shipping merchant, you know - and as to my scribe\'s skills, I have assisted in the family business for several years, as well as undertaking work for other clients. I have already offered to provide Uzay with references.\" He maintains his air of innocence as he reaches for his tea.

[Mirag(#31700)] \"I wish to know the sorts of things that references never tell you,\" the willowy woman says, softly. \"Try a pastry, they are amazing. I\'ve formed a contract with the baker.\" There is a pause. \"Do you enjoy your work?\"

\"After you, Regent,\" young Barzhil demurs politely. \"Does the baker come from Black Tower?\" Whilst he waits for Mirag to take her pastry, he sips at his tea.

\"Ah, this soothes the throat. Why yes, as a matter of fact I do - enjoy my work that is. I had considered applying for studentship with the Citadel, but on reflection I believe I can best serve the Eye where I am.\" Another of those tight smiles, and his adam\'s apple is no longer bobbing.

[Mirag(#31700)] \"The baker seems to have gone under the radar before but she is part of Black Tower now,\" Mirag says, taking a small pastry for herself and a delicate bite of it. \"I imagine you can. Do you ever pay attention to what you\'re writing? Remember it?\"

Barzhil politely selects the next-smallest pastry, transferring it to his plate. The question sets a frown on his sharp brows. \"Information I transcribe for clients is of course strictly confidential,\" he comments a little sharply, altering the question a little. \"I hope you are not suggesting I betray that confidence. Steward Uzay has not asked me to do so. It may be that in the course of the task I am hired for a little ... sharing of information will be necessary. Such information will naturally be provided by him as required.\" The burst of speech over, he raises the pastry to his lips and takes a small bite.

[Mirag(#31700)] The slight woman smiles and takes another nibble. \"That was the answer I sought.\"

\"Ah,\" the scribe mumbles once he has cleared his mouth of pastry. \"Forgive me if I misunderstood.\" He reaches once more for his teacup, but before raising it to his lips, he asks, \"Is there any particular information tht you wished me to .. ah, share, when the time comes?\" The query is ended by another sip of tea.

[Mirag(#31700)] \"If there is something of danger to the Tower, it would be good to know,\" the willowy woman says softly, \"but otherwise, it serves my purpose to be able to trust in confidential messages.\"

\"Do we not all serve the same purpose?\" Barzhil counters. \"To glorify the Eye and to act within the Eye\'s will?\"

[Mirag(#31700)] The willowy woman nods approvingly and takes another bite of pastry. \"Indeed. Have you spoken to the Dark Citadel about their inscription needs?\"

At that question the scribe blinks. \"Inscription needs?\" he repeats. \"Was there some particular need that you believed one such as myself might fill?\" He leans forward in his chair, clearly interested - half the pastry still lies forgotten on his plate.

[Mirag(#31700)] \"Oh, I suspect that the High Priestess has needs of her own,\" the willowy woman says. \"She does not share much with me, but she did ask if you would attend her at your convenience.\"

At this particular piece of information Barzhil, cup still in hand, twitches, spilling a few drops of tea across the table. \"Oh! Forgive me!\" he mumbles, the confidence of earlier quite dissipated as he tries to mop at the spill with a corner of his sleeve. Tricky business transactions are an easy thing to handle, but tea parties quite another matter ...

[Mirag(#31700)] Raising an eyebrow, Mirag smiles. \"It is a mark of the esteem you are held in..\"

Barzhil has succeeding in clearing the spill, but at a price - the sleeve of his robe is now dark-stained. \"Ah ... quite,\" he mutters in response, clearly unsure that such esteem is a good thing, for his adam\'s apple is bobbing up and down again. Hastily he gulps down the rest of his tea.

By the time he is finished, he has regained his earlier composure. \"Did you have any other questions for me, Regent?\" He curls his fingers round the empty teacup.

[Mirag(#31700)] \"More tea?\" the Lady Regent\'s voice is calm. \"What are your goals?\"

Barzhil looks toward the teapot, then shakes his head. \"Ah, no thank you,\" he declines politely, reaching for the half-eaten pastry instead. He takes a bite, showing little appreciation for its fine flavour - he is sweating a little, and whether it is the late afternoon heat or the company, who can say?

\"I believe I have already told you that, Regent,\" he answers, a slight huskiness creeping back into his voice now that the tea is finished. \"To ply my pen to the best of my skill, to serve and glorify the Eye. And to root out heresy and blasphemy - rest assured that should such things have taken root even within the highest echelons of Umbar, it will not go undetected.\" Answer given, he looks up to the willowy woman before him. \"And what of yourself, Regent? What are your goals for our fair city?\"

[Mirag(#31700)] \"At the moment, my goals are far more modest, really, than the city. I wish simply to restablish Black Tower and to serve the Eye with my mind, body, and soul,\" the willowy Regent says, smiling. \"Well, I will let you go then I am sure that there is much preparation you have to do.\"

Whilst Mirag gives her answer, Barzhil chews on the last of his pastry. At the final words he nods almost too eagerly. \"Indeed! I should start on my duties as soon as possible.\" He coughs, and looks away briefly. \"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Regent, and for the most excellent tea. I look forward to a mutually profitable relationship between myself and Black.\"

He manages a thin smile to accompany those words before rising to his feet, bowing, and going on his way (escorted by the rather bored-looking guard who\'s been waiting for him all this time).