for Ashton
Dec. 11th, 2024 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lost_and_foundry posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
morphicpoolsThe months after the defeat of the Absolute have been nothing short of a whirlwind for Barcus and his Ironhands. Alliances have been formed and strengthened, with the Gondians. They've committed to volunteer work repairing the city's ruined infrastructure, in order to seal their reacceptance into Baldur's Gate. After that, a stream of requests for work from both Upper and Lower City citizenry began to fill their days, and their coffers. The Ironhand-Gondian alliance is still an upstart laborer's guild, but it's already a powerful one.
Fortunately, at this point, most of the hard diplomatic work is complete, and Barcus can unclench a little, take time for his own pet projects, and at long last send a letter home. For years, he's intended to bring his youngest brother to Baldur's Gate as an apprentice, and the timing is right now. What's not right is the fact that the roads all up and down the Sword Coast are still teeming with danger. Even some Mindflayers may have survived, free of the Netherbrain, to find their own way.
He can't go alone, but at the same time, he can't drag his fellow gnomes away from their work. Even if he could, very few are fighters. The only solution is to hire, and so he makes a few discreet inquiries around town.
The upshot of all of it is a meeting in the Elfsong in the early evening. Barcus is waiting at a table, with a mug of ale neglected by his elbow, as he scribbles notes in the margins of a ledger. At this point in his career, he could be wandering around in clothing as ostentatious as Lord Gortash's was, but that sort of thing is no good for working at the forge, and so he cuts a rather unassuming figure, in a brown wool tunic, a plain doublet, and a knit scarf that's a little too long for his small frame. He also has reading glasses, but he must have forgotten they exist, because they're perched on his forehead, rather than over his eyes.
Fortunately, at this point, most of the hard diplomatic work is complete, and Barcus can unclench a little, take time for his own pet projects, and at long last send a letter home. For years, he's intended to bring his youngest brother to Baldur's Gate as an apprentice, and the timing is right now. What's not right is the fact that the roads all up and down the Sword Coast are still teeming with danger. Even some Mindflayers may have survived, free of the Netherbrain, to find their own way.
He can't go alone, but at the same time, he can't drag his fellow gnomes away from their work. Even if he could, very few are fighters. The only solution is to hire, and so he makes a few discreet inquiries around town.
The upshot of all of it is a meeting in the Elfsong in the early evening. Barcus is waiting at a table, with a mug of ale neglected by his elbow, as he scribbles notes in the margins of a ledger. At this point in his career, he could be wandering around in clothing as ostentatious as Lord Gortash's was, but that sort of thing is no good for working at the forge, and so he cuts a rather unassuming figure, in a brown wool tunic, a plain doublet, and a knit scarf that's a little too long for his small frame. He also has reading glasses, but he must have forgotten they exist, because they're perched on his forehead, rather than over his eyes.
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Date: 2025-01-12 05:16 pm (UTC)"We grew up together in the Underdark, but when we went our separate ways, he...honestly, I'm not sure what happened to him. He was always a fiery sort, a true believer, mostly in himself." And Barcus, who still struggles a bit with confidence in everything except his work, loved that about him. "Which was fine until he wanted the Ironhands to murder all of the Gondians in cold blood on the steps of the Foundry. He was their leader before me, you see. Luckily the rest of them had more sense, and mercy, than he does."
"They followed me instead, I exiled him and told him to leave the city, and I'm not sure now if he's fixated on vengeance or reclaiming his power, but either way..." He shrugs helplessly.
He smiles faintly. "Yes, it's best practices to keep one's employer alive, I assume." The bit about loyalty, though? That's a surprise, and while it would be easy enough for someone to make that claim and then still turn on a dime, he doesn't think that's the case here.
Barcus looks down at himself, his simple clothes, inkstained fingers, neglected reading glasses, and has the grace to laugh. "I'm afraid I'm more or less exactly as I present myself here. Built for a workshop, or maybe a library, not a battlefield."
Philomeen will yell at him for not checking references, but: "I think we'll do well enough together, you and I. If you want the job, it's yours. Ah, and..." He scribbles a number on a sliver of paper and nudges it across the table to them. It's...generous. "Half up front. I don't wander around with that much gold on me, but if you come to the guild headquarters tomorrow I can give you an advance so you can collect whatever supplies you want before we go."
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Date: 2025-01-15 03:55 am (UTC)"Okay, so there is someone who has it out for you because he's butt hurt that people like you more. Got it. And he's pretty bloodthirsty but the sounds of it. Noted."
Yeah Ashton doesn't really think Barcus will be a problem for him, the guy seems upstanding enough and even if he wasn't it's not like Ashton could really judge all that much.
"Probably a good idea in a city this big, never know who could be wanting to cut your purse strings." Shrugging they finish their ale before continuing. "Works for me. I'll swing by and we can get set up to head out. You said you wanted to travel light, right? I have something that can help with that."