The Head Caretaker's Office (Lycaeum, Chyril 22nd late TT)

[Morg]

Fewer books appeared to be stored on the top level than on other levels. At least, staircases became fewer, and narrower, as Vincenzo ascended. Presumably the average punter's legs lacked the energy to climb to the very top of the mighty edifice.

The gallery wasn't hard to find. In fact, the staircase Vincenzo emerged from opened directly onto it. An immensely long room that stretched all along the east front of the building, one side of the gallery was mostly made of wide sheets of glass, giving a magnificent view over the city. Few buildings in World's Mouth reached as high as the great library, one notable exception being the mighty Prodesse Dominicus.

At intervals down the gallery, items of interest reposed on pedestals, with simple engraved plaques explaining what they were. Opposite one of these, a drum fashioned in bright brass and covered in a dark skin, was the Head Caretaker's office, marked simply as "D. Mastropietro, Senior Caretaker."

Within, the slim form of an old man, olive-skinned as were most Mouthies with a few remaining wisps of white hair, was hunched over a device that appeared to be an inverted telescope of sorts, focusing at something within or below. At Vincenzo's entrance, he started and looked up, frowning and squinting as his eyes adjusted to the distance between them. "You think you can help me with something? That's not why most people come to my office," he responded in a sharp voice with a hint of nasality. "I'm intrigued to hear what that something might be. Come, come in and close the door. No one else here, and it's private enough."

There was in fact no one else in the room, which was small, with a spartan bed taking up the length of one wall and a row of cupboards and dressers opposite. The room was generally tidy, but tools were scattered here and there. Mastropietro sat himself down on a three-legged stool, which was the only seat in the office, leaving Vincenzo standing unless he wished to seat himself upon the floor or bed.

[Guest]

At that moment in time, books held little interest for Vinnie, his goal clear despite a rather arduous journey to the top of the building. He did pause by the window and took in the scene, but despite the beauty of it all, his heart was heavy. It almost looks beautiful from here. And yet, the darkness is still there. The rot eating at it from within. Rot that eats away everything. Even a God. Should I even bother? Is there a hope? With a shake such thoughts were sent away and the young man continued to the office, closing the door as instructed and falling silent for a few flickers.

"Ah, signore, I am not sure that there is a way to put this subtly. Nor am I certain you are the man who will be able to help. But, we shall see, non?" The same generic smile that was reserved for most occasions and had become quite easy to assume was turned towards Mastropietro. "I do business in the city. Mostly working as a scribe for those not fortunate enough to be literate or needing a bit of help in dealing with our administration system. But, I do not come here to offer those kind of service. I am certain you have plenty of scribes here." A pause as the smile widened a bit, saccharine sweet and polite beyond measure. "While I work for them people talk. And I have heard of a certain problem your establishment has. I believe the problem has a name. Scullio, non?"

He paused there, observing the man, waiting to see if he reacted to the name, ready to leave if Mastropietro did not seem to be affected by it. He knew merely of Scullio's connection to the Lyceum, not vice versa. And Head Caretaker seemed just the man who might be the link he sought.

[Morg]

Mastropietro's reaction to the mention of Scullio was immediate and obvious. He stiffened visibly, frowning, then reluctantly nodded twice. This was not a man who was in the habit of concealing his thoughts or feelings.

Despite this, his response, when it came, was more than a little guarded. The combination of Vincenzo's suave politeness and his matter-of-fact words had clearly put the man on edge. "That is the name of the problem, yes," he stated. "Hmm... and so you say you've come to offer your assistance. I hope you won't be offended if I ask you what your motive is for doing so. Or is this a charitable endeavour?" The old caretaker evidently wasn't holding out much hope of the latter. He was suspicious, although only as suspicious as any intelligent Mouthie would be under the circumstances.

[Guest]

Muscles in Vinnie back relaxed when Mastropietro tensed at the mention of Scullio, his smile growing a tiniest bit. With polite attentiveness he listened to the Caretaker's explanation and hummed before replying. "This is the Mouth, non? Nothing is free, and same applies to my assistance. But, the problem with your current situation is that by all appearances you have no choice but to be polite and nice to signore Scullio. With me you shall have such a choice. To an extent." His fingers danced along the hem of his coat. "I may require your assistance in the future, but unlike now, I shall only call upon you to do what you are meant to. And I do believe you deal in information. Just what I need. Or, more precisely, will need it in the future." The smile turned saccharine once more. "Consider this a basis of a profitable friendship. My services and help will certainly not end here. Should further problem arise as we work, I will be most inclined to remove them so as to ensure your continued cooperation."

[Morg]

The Head Caretaker rolled up his sleeves and leant forward as he listened, resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn't happy with what he was hearing. As a Mouthie he knew all too well that it was rarely a good thing to be in someone's debt, financially or otherwise. Still, the man before him had not yet explicitly mentioned money, and that was a bonus. The Lycaeum was an organisation with a lot of resources but very few spare crowns to go round. A debt of service would almost certainly be easier to repay than a monetary one.

"Well, you have me interested," he admitted. "We're playing with an open hand, as it were. You know what we have to offer." That wasn't strictly true... the Lycaeum did have an ace or two up its collective sleeve... but it didn't hurt to keep quiet about that for now. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come to us. So what is your proposal?" He smiled, causing a myriad of creases to fork out across a face that could once have been handsome. "You mention choice. Choice is the path to the Light... What choice would we have with you?"

[Guest]

Having gained the man’s attention and still being present in the room, Vincenzo allowed himself a smile and raised his brows attentively when Mastropietro spoke. Negotiations have begun and now all that remained to be seen is how much each side was willing to risk and what they sought to gain through the relationship. And as Vinnie discovered a few months ago he enjoyed this part of a conversation. Only one thing confused Vincenzo and that was the out of place mention of Light, but it hardly made him slow down. “Open hand it shall be then. To put it bluntly, I do not plan to blackmail you as Scullio does. I might be a hopeless romantic, but I do believe people are good and decent at the core. Treat them kindly and they shall repay you. So, what I meant is that you will be able to choose if you will help me with my goals or not. You won’t have to do it because I am twisting your arm with some dark secret. I find such relationships to lead only to violence in the end. And we both wish to avoid the violence.” He leaned closer and smiled sweetly before adding. “I am not mistaken about this am I? We do wish to avoid the violence don’t we? At least between your organization and me that is. Signore Scullio shall have to be dealt with. But, that won’t concern you. It will be strictly between him and me. I suspect you won’t even be mentioned at all.”

[Morg]

The mention of possible violence between Vincenzo and the organisation caused the old caretaker to frown. Mastropietro wasn't a man who was used to talking candidly about violence, nor to bandying threats about. Still, he only seemed disquieted by it, not put off, although his answer skirted round the direct question he'd been asked.

"I can tell you straight away that if you were to get Scullio off our backs we would be keen to help you in whatever way we could," he replied. "We're good people, here, when it comes down to it. Not rich people..." The issue of money was finally raised, and Mastropietro sighed. "We would not be able to offer much in the way of compensation. But then I expect that if you've done your homework you'll already have figured that out. We would, however, be able to offer assistance in kind."

The caretaker stood, seeming more comfortable with the situation now. "You say that the specifics will not need to concern us. That is good, for we do not wish to know... although I must warn you that a foot wrong could be devastating to us."

He smiled. "Anyway, your suggestion seems a good one. But... would you perhaps indulge an old man with one more thing?" A gleam appeared in his eye. "I love to hear people's stories, and I would very much like to know the nature of these goals with which we might be able to help you."

[Guest]

Violence was something Vincenzo sought to avoid at all costs, at lest the violence in which he was directly involved. Lyceum had potential to be a useful ally and he was merely making sure they did not see him as a threat, but rather as an asset, just as he saw them. "No compensation won't be necessary. Money is the least of my concerns here. Soon-to-be-late Signore Scullio seems very short sighted, though well informed it seems." Then came the other question and Vincenzo did not hesitate for an instant having prepared for such a possibility. Mastropietro's gleam was answered by a confident smile, his gaze met, young man showing that he did not buy the old man bit for a flicker. "Of course I will share, but perhaps you might answer a question for me before I do? I warn you that it might require you to be quite verbose." He paused for a moment, but went on without waiting for a reply. "The Church of the One? What do you think of its current situation?"

[Morg]

The gleam winked out of the old caretaker's eye within the flicker, to be replaced with a very guarded expression, tufty white eyebrows narrowed. The question wasn't exactly an innocuous one... a Mouthie answering it in a particularly careless and stupid manner could get into a lot of trouble... yet it hardly merited the reaction that it provoked in the man.

"I think that it is not currently fulfilling its potential," he replied at length, sitting back down. "The One Church could be the greatest force for good in all of Tazlure. It commands the hearts and souls of millions. With that sort of influence, it could be striving to eliminate poverty and crime, and to be a light against the darkness. But instead it marshals its forces to fight for coffee, wastes resources on grandiose extravagance in its trappings, and even persecutes the innocent at times. Adhiel and other non-humans, no matter their religious affiliation. Hatred is whipped up against them while in the shadows a dozen other problems grow and feed from the Church's inaction." The words were impassioned, but there was little tone in Mastropietro's voice, just a hard steeliness. "So, in summary, I think that it is misdirecting its efforts."

He rocked back on his stool and forward again, awaiting Vinnie's response.

[Guest]

Vincenzo's face was a carefully wrought mask of intense interest, a mere shadow of a smile curling his lips upward a barest fraction of an inch. The man said all the right things and he wondered if he should share his previous employment and position simply to see the man's expression at the revelation. "Ah, but you have no idea how much your words made me happy. For you see that is just what I intend to do. Seek a way to reform the Church if at all possible and make it what it was meant to be. Might does not make right as it has behaved in the past. Kind hand and gentle touch are required if the church and through it faith of Dominicus are to grow further. And that is where I shall need your help. I will need it if I am to succeed. You have access to a greatest font of information in the city and I will need to base my struggle upon it since force would not work. Words and mind will win this battle not swords and spears. And together we could make something wonderful." As he spoke, Vinnie's eyes lit up, his words strangely passionate for the usually calm and calculated man. He wanted Mastropietro to see things his way, and for now their deal was forgotten, only Dominicus and his plan in his mind.

[Morg]

Mastropietro smiled an indulgent smile, with a hint of world-weariness in it - but only a hint. There was also enthusiasm there, and genuine pleasure. With his earlier words, Vincenzo had already proved that he was no idle dreamer. And now he'd opened up. This was a man with ideals and with the tools to back them up - or at least the drive. And with the Lycaeum behind him, a powerful force for light might well be in the making. Of course there were other issues, but the principle was sound.

"I promise you that we will help you in this," the old caretaker stated firmly. "Yes, together we could help them see reason." He brushed a finger through his tufty eyebrows, and sat back, looking a little sheepish. "I am glad to see that I... we are dealing with a man whose views so closely match our own. And our resources would certainly be far better spent on such a cause than on a foul, selfish crook like Scullio. Yes, if you have some way of getting us out of this predicament, then we will stand behind you as far as reason allows."

Yes... with the belief of enough men such as this one, perhaps there is hope for the Mad God after all. Perhaps he can be saved.

[Guest]

There was a momentary gleam in Vincenzo's eyes as Mastropietro agreed to his words, a hint of madness showing in his features, but lasting but a flicker, replaced by a calculated expression of satisfaction. "Excellent, signore. I think this will work rather nicely. Give me a few days to take care of signore Scullio. Hopefully my plan will work as I anticipate, but even if it does not, I have a few backup options." Then came the time for him to test the soon to be formed alliance for the first time. "Tell me something, signore. Priests of the One.... Are they supposed to own personal wealth or is it a newly acquired habit? And most importantly is there a rule against it in the old books of Dominican faith?"

[Morg]

Mastropietro nodded in satisfaction as he listened, then closed his eyes for a flicker in thought as he pondered the question he'd been asked.

"The Mouth wasn't always like this," he stated by way of response. "Not in my lifetime, or in my father's or even my grandfather's, but it used to be like everywhere else. Money was a means to an end, not an end in itself. But then something went wrong." His sharp old voice had taken on a caustic, sardonic edge. "Now, ecclesiastical law is not my field, and I do not recall anything in the Book Interdictum or the Reformo that specifically forbids the accumulation of personal wealth on the part of the clergy. But the Book Apostolic - the Book of Virtues - states that charity is one of the prime virtues of adherents of the One Church, as it helps to bring about the equality that is the natural state of the Children of Dominicus." He gave a thin-lipped smile. "So, in a sense, the hoarding of moneys is in direct contravention of what is stipulated in the Fas. Not to mention the ultimate punishment for selfishness laid down in the Censur."

The elderly man's keen wit showed through again as he finished. "Is that the answer you were hoping for, young man? Or will it serve your purpose?" He smiled again. This was proving to be an interesting encounter, as well as a fortuitous one.

[Guest]

For a flicker Vinnie hesitated, chewing his lower lip as he pondered a reply, feeling that this was a rather important moment, maybe even more important than when Mastropietro agreed to his help. Only the truth would do here, since it had worked so well so far. "I fear that I shall have to use it, though it is what I was hoping for. Life is about giving much more than about taking and we have become overly focused on the later. Sadly, I do not think the Mouth can change as a whole. More drastic measures are required. We need to cut off bad flesh since I fear it can not be cured. And that requires substantial knowledge of its disease and also ample evidence that it indeed is bad. Otherwise the rest won't accept its removal." With a sad smile, the young man sighed and looked at the Caretaker. "I was part of Purificatio not so long ago. Truly believed in what I was doing, but time came when I realized that I was part of something I did not like. So I left. And could not sit around watching my city and my God go to ruin. It is a lofty goal that I am after, but without ambition there can be no progress. I believe there are others who think like me, but do not say anything because they fear they are alone. Well, I plan to give them proof that they are not alone. Perhaps when they see someone else making the first step they will join. Provided that first step does not kill me." With a shrug, Vinnie smiled once more, showing more emotion in these past few months than during his entire life. "But, I will not let fear stop me. Not this time. Not when I think I could actually make it."

[Morg]

If I ever had a son... this would be how I'd want him to be. I should really introduce him to young Lucan.

"You're not alone," the old caretaker stated firmly. "Many here think as you do. And, once we are rid of Scullio, perhaps we will even be in a position to act on it. I do not know if you are aware, signore, but this library has long been a refuge for those who were discontented with the status quo in the Mouth. It is often the case that, the more educated a person becomes, the more their eyes are opened to the corruption and decay that surrounds them. That is the nature of the light we aim to bring."

Mastropietro shook his head, his moustache wobbling. "But I talk too much. It'll make me weary." Indeed, the enthusiasm he'd shown had visibly tired him. "You are a young man; you will not be out of breath if you talk, then run, then talk again, then fight. Go, then, and set the wheels in motion. I will help you as far as my aging body allows."

[Morg]

Archived without skilling due to player inactivity.