Escariot Residence
He didn't sleep again last night, working on something he thought was useful. In front of him a candle was slowly dying out as it's wax diminished to a stump. before it was a pile of papers with scribble, drawings, and numbers doodled all over it. He'd been scribing for a year now yet his skill wasn't as good as it should be. He sighed as he tried to decipher what he set on paper, while an open book was in his other hand. His notes were a pain to read. His teachers at the college said he had talent, but they all dreaded having to read his writing because of the chicken scratches he had for letters. The young man sighed.
Matiel pushed himself away from his desk and blew on the candle. He could already feel the icy morning air seeping through his shuttered window, small shards of light passing through the slits. A shrill twinkling of birds twittering from outside was filling his head with sounds marking the early day's time. Matiel stepped to the window and opened the shutters. From his home's second floor he had enough of a view to let him see most of the rising day. Below him the streets of Trade Avenue were still empty save for the enterprising few on their way to work. Sea air sent a blasting chill to his face and made him frown, his thoughts on King's Court's past experiences. It wasn't much of a surprise to him that an Orcish invasion would be repelled. Whatever it was that happened to this place there would always be something in response. Quick and valiant defense was the predictable outcome. His entire household was in panic to assure their collective survival, his brothers in haste to come home and carry most of their belongings off if ever the city fell, but no. Matiel knew the city wouldn't fall. It needed something much, much more fundamental to fell a city, a people.
Already he heard the servants shuffling outside his door. Soon a knock would come enquiring if he was awake, the usual start to a routinely planned day: Go to school, Go to Notwen, Go to Market, Go to Store, Talk to Grandfather, Talk to Father, Talk to Mother, Talk to Sisters, and sleep. Somewhere in between them he would slip in meals and some personal errands.
He drew away from his window's edge to let the rising sun slowly creep in. He walked to his dresser and pushed his face an inch away from his mirror. He regarded the lines beneath his eyes and the deathly paleness of his skin. With his wavy hair and soft eyes he really did look like a girl. He was thankful his facial hair grew thick early on in his age. He was tired of being the woman among his friends. The sensitive poet that captured women's hearts. If only that were true.
He closed his eyes and willed his face to what he wanted it to look like. Another day to live a lie was here and he needed to play his part well. When he opened his eyes a smiling, cheery face greeted him in the mirror. He almost puked as he held his face like that, looking at it without love.
"How many more years must I spend here?" he asked himself. He wanted to leave this place behind and find somewhere else to live, somewhere else to carve out his name, but no. He knew that where ever he went it would always be the same. If anything the place he wanted was a place that he needed to make for himself. He looked down at his soft hands and felt the weakness in them. He clenched his teeth and cursed. These hands would shape the world someday, with just his bare hands the world will see him and know what he wanted to say.
He pulled away from the mirror and walked to his door to open it into the rest of the house. Outside the family's two maids and butler weren't so surprised to see him this early. They've grown used to his times and had adapted accordingly. Already a steaming hot breakfast was waiting for him in the kitchen. They knew he preferred to eat apart from his family and leave home earlier than them. He was always about on business and they were good natured enough not to hinder him in his efforts.
Matiel made sure he smiled at the servants and was hearty in eating his breakfast. The hot meal easily lightening up his weary mood. He'd already spent two nights without sleep and the effects were catching up on him. Soon coffee wouldn't be so useful. He knew he needed to sleep and was thankful tomorrow was his day off both from work and the college.
He quickened his pace to bathe and dress himself accordingly. He packed his papers and books securely in his satchel and went out with a cheery goodbye to the family servants. Outside the bustle was slowly picking up and the familiar was waking up. Soon these streets would be filled with men walking in quickened paces with worried or angry faces. Someone always owed someone around here. Matiel was careful enough to stay away from that sort of business. His grandfather was a great teacher when it came to money and Matiel always listened when the old man talked.
Right now he walked, preferring his legs to the horse drawn carriage owned by his family. Using it always meant using it with the family. He did his best to avoid that, seeing little use in talking to them at any time in the day. He needed to finish his work here and finish it soon. He had no time for pleasantries.
Morntingtide
Bardic College
The recently rebuilt Bardic College in King's Court was a marvel of elegance. A large amount of currency had been dropped into it's funding. A gift of beauty and culture given by King Balthasar I to his citizens. Built of a rustique auburn brick shipped from Dort and with decorative doorways carved from fine timber of the outlaying lands of T'aquar. It was a feat and a half just to acquire such material considering the state of current diplomacy. Large tethered vines covered lattice work sidings in many spots granting a more visually appeasing aspect from the stone.
The main entry had various intricate symbols that the unpracticed eye could not make out, nearly runic in nature. Wards? Blessings? It would take a skilled student perhaps a master of history or magic to decipher them all as they covered the entire surface of the double doors. Above the doorway hung an illustrious sign that proclaimed this place "The Bardic College". Beneath that an inscription of an olden language that bolstered "To achieve excellence in the contemporary performing arts". Next to the this were two large flowing banners with exquisite pictures depicting song, dance, and other arts. Many related to actual historical events of the Kingdom.
One could enter freely into these doors as a guest, student, or one seeking knowledge from this institution. The current headmaster of the college is Skuttles.
Inside was found a large reception area. Obviously it had been set up for a high volume of new entries as there were many chairs, a quiet lounging area filled with serene shrubbery, along with a small buffet for those waiting. Many tapestries were hung about the room, depicting times of heroism, legendary history, and a few religious passages from the church of Dominicus.
A middle aged halfing was seated at a large oaken desk that dwarfed him, as he could just barely see over the table top. Dressed in very proper attire he was found to be scribbling notes on aged papyrus. When approached he stuffed his notes of work quickly into a drawer and looked up with a polite smile.
"Morganior HillBorn at your service! Most call me Morgan for short. How may I help you this fine day?" he inquired with a bit of jovialty that played across his azure eyes.
Matiel walked up to the familiar halfling with ease. There already many around him walking to and fro the college. Some came in in wealthy carriages drawn by sleek and shining horses. Most of the students here, Matiel noticed, were among the gentry and well off. Besides, who exactly had the time to formally teach themselves the pettiness of art but these landed cretins.
Matiel was careful to instill a jolly cheer in his voice as he greeted the gnome with a smile, "Hello Morgan. How's the start of your day today? Well I hope."