The Tilted Scale
Twenty-Seventh Day of the Second Month 293 AC
After some thought you find yourself distinctly
unenthused at the notion of hundreds of heavily armed guards loose in your lands and see on reasons to offer concessions over any trinkets of gold or sorcery. Still there is no reason to be impolite about the matter."It is indeed a worrying thought that such artifacts could fall into the hands of creatures that had beleaguered this city. Yet while I trust the Fiery Hand to drive away the weaker servants of the pit, I must say that their leaders could have easily slipped past even the greatest of warriors to steal such treasures unhindered."
You imagine your smile is a rather unsettling thing as you speak, and from the look of him Hario is aware of the trap he has laid for himself. Still he rallies with some skill. He motions to Ser Richard sitting at your side, more glaring at his tea than aught else, for it has never been his drink of choice.
"I hardly imagine it would be beyond the abilities of of your sworn shield..." the priest hesitates, though it has something of an air of mummery about. "No, sworn sword, I forget the precise name you Andals give such a position, though I imagine that all of us will be learnign quite a bit of the customs of the Sunset Lands in the days to come. A word of warning I offer though, if may."
"Of course..." you trail off expectantly, truth be told somewhat invigorated to be sitting opposite from someone with more wits than hair, even if he may yet prove to be a foe, as opposed to the foolish bravado of the former archon and men like him.
"Swords make an uncomfortable place to rest one's head, but a shield can be carved and worked into many more useful shapes, and what better shield for any ruler than the trust of his people?" he counsels, offering what is perhaps the most carefully veiled threat you have ever been subject to. Indeed a threat is hardly all it is, more an offer of support with a dark seed at its heart.
"I have found that my scales are thick enough to endure a few pricks," you counter lightly. Where wearing a dragon's skin now your tail would be lashing in warning. Still you offer the sweet with the bitter, for truly you have no intention of robbing the priests of Rh'llor. Only bargaining hard enough that it might be
called that, in the finest Braavosi fashion. "You made a excellent point, holy one and given the extensive activities in the catacombs below, it would be wise to bring them to safer places. Would we know each other better, I would offer to store them in my vaults for you, though I think the Iron Bank would be a good intermediate, given our very recent acquaintance. After all, they have a reputation to deal fairly, no matter with whom."
"I cannot lightly make such a decision," Hario relies a touch more hurriedly than he had done so far, obviously disliking the path the conversation has been sliding towards. "I must seek guidance first, both with my fellow Flame Keepers and of course the Flame himself in prayer and meditation."
To that you agree graciously enough, segueing to matters of the city and its factions for a moment, not that you would truly trust his words but one more perspective, partizan though it will undoubtedly be can only better your understanding of the whole. His tales paint a picture of a city battered by the changing tides of fate ad sorcery, many of the major mercantile families all-but ruined by your raiding and the humiliating loss of Westheaven, which had left a faction made up primarily of wealthy and owners to press for control of the city, though they had proven unable to unite behind an strong leader, choosing instead a week reed that could bend with many and varied interests.
If all he tells you is accurate however it also shows something else, and it can hardly be by accident: the Flame Keeper has an excellent grasp of palace politics for some who has likely never trod its halls in his life. You would guess domestic slaves hear far more than the average Tyroshi magister assumes and many of them share those tidbits with the local Red Priest, who of course passes them on. Another offer half made, and one you shall have to at least ponder. Eyes and ears you lack far more than swords and though you aim to rectify that soon, your own spymasters could certainly benefit from the resources Hario could provide them.
Rather than addressing this directly you decide to ask for a show of good faith first. "It is a pitty that my coffers will be strained with rebuilding the areas affected the worst by the fighting. Had I enough coin to immediately rebuild this area, it would be easy to assess the catacombs and then do some work on the temples vaults, so that we might all profit from it..."
The answer it not swift this time, nor is the hesitation merely another move in the game. "I can see that the faithful provide the sweat of their brows for bettering their lives on this earth and of course some measure of coin, but alas I do not think that would be entirely adequate to truly rebuild. "
Tyrosh Temple of the Red God committed to slum rehabilitation
With that still somewhat distant promise you and Ser Richard take your leave, the knight grumbling about over-clever priests almost as soon as you are in the air.
"Would you prefer the rock-headed ones, screaming about the evils of magic to all and sundry?" you ask wryly.
"Yes, hanging is a lot quicker," he replies.
You cannot truly fault his reasoning, but there will be plenty of nooses being tied here in the days to come without adding any more.
What do you do next?
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OOC: The project the Flame Keeper committed to will be settled in greater detail later once he has all the numbers on his end.
