Ch 3: Arrival

There are many cities within Drakthiss that have no compare. The capital of Brevantiss is, of course, the greatest city in the world. With streets wide enough for a dragon to walk them and a market filled with more diverse goods than any other. The ports of Ventariss are legendary for their boats of living wood and of course the home of the Union’s academy, Arcthiss, is home to sights and sounds beyond understanding. Even the average town within the empire is the envy of many of the greatest cities of lesser nations.

• Jerkahn, a Sponsored Writer, in his book Drakthiss: The Jewel of the World

Moonfallow was the ugliest place Solomon had ever seen, a town of squat buildings built from dark brick with roofs of some kind of sickly green tile. The streets weren’t the clean cement of Brevantiss, or the well-maintained cobblestone of his family estate, but rather ugly unworked stones held in place by gravel. The look of the place wasn’t helped by the constant drizzle of freezing rain that had been falling for the entire afternoon. Solomon had hoped to get a glimpse of the people of Moonfallow as well, but with the rain the most he saw were people moving quickly between buildings wielding umbrellas and wearing heavy coats with wide-brimmed hats.

The carriage reached the edge of the town and kept going, working its way through a winding road that slowly made its way upward. Based on the maps Solomon had studied, they were on the path to Victor’s, or rather his estate. He felt tempted to try and catch a glimpse of it, but based on its elevation and the rain he knew he’d catch only a shadow of a view at best and so leaned back in his seat.

Aside from this carriage were two wagons following behind carrying his personal effects, some furniture, some raw materials for rebuilding any damaged parts of the manor, and of course, his servants. He’d insisted on a covered wagon for them, which he’d wound up having to pay from his first stipend payment himself, but it was worth it seeing the rain. He’d wound up with sixteen servants, for which he was grateful, but they were hardly of the specialties he had hoped to find. For one thing nine of them were young women he’d been told were in some kind of trouble from a brother, or a cousin, or even their own families. He’d been horrified to learn of some of their stories, but he hadn’t been surprised. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have use for maids and seamstresses and cooks but he’d hoped to bring more specialized labor with him. Aside from them he’d gotten a one-handed apprentice carpenter and his younger brother that had only just started training as a mason, a driver that they’d tried to force into retirement on four separate occasions, his apprentice, and a gardener.

He’d almost certainly need to hire some additional construction help to restore the manor, its gardens, and any furniture that had been stolen or damaged. He’d also be smart to make sure the apprentice carpenter and mason could finish their training somewhere in the town. He may even need to see if any of the female servants would be willing to apprentice in something. It was rare to have them apprentice for the more specialized roles, though some lesser houses had started the process and in the cities he’d heard it was becoming more popular for women to take apprenticeships in general.

He broke from his ruminations as the carriage came to a complete stop and grabbed his parasol, stepping outside before the driver, Duncan, could get the door for him. He’d opted not to take a valet, as he had other priorities and didn’t think he could trust anyone the way he’d trusted Edmure. He put the umbrella over his head, hearing the soft pitter patter of the rain drops on its canvas and took in his new home.

It was an older construction, with large portions of it built of stone. It was unpainted, very out of style for the last hundred or so years, and the grayness of it made it seem to fade against the rain. The roof was shingled in a dark green, and the walls largely overgrown with vines and moss. The windows were long and lean, reminding him of those of a church, and at almost every corner were small elaborate gargoyles whose menacing visages he could only barely make out. He turned to see they’d ridden through where the wrought iron gate had been, though it seemed that something had destroyed or removed it at some point. The manor itself did seem to be in good shape though. At least from the outside.

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He heard the wagons near him beginning to empty, and his new servants starting to unload crates.

“Just get what you need, and my necessities. Duncan, Regis, please take the carriage and the wagons around the back for now and get the horses settled and get inside as well. Let’s not get any more wet than we have to.”