(Florian and Quiquises are here)

Slowly, House Palantus had been reducing its already small footprint in the city.  Now, only a few remained, and except for a few house slaves which had been granted their freedom, they would be leaving with the last shipments of goods, due to arrive soon from the north.  House Palantus was based in Alexandria, on the far side of the Mediterranean.  This had always been a small outpost for them, their toehold in Gaul, and with times and economies changing, they could no longer justify it.  They'd intended to simply pack up and leave... a few meetings with House Mercator had changed all that.

The house slaves were told that House Palantus's holdings here would be taken over and run by new "agents" who would be arriving from the north, with that expected goods shipment.  The slaves were free now, and would be welcome to stay on and continue to live either in the Palantus Townhouse in the Old Town area, or in the Servant's Quarters section of their warehouse in the New Docks area, either way as salaried employees of House Palantus, running things in their absence along with the House's new "agents".

The last few to remain are simply biding their time now, enjoying some leisure before it is time to sail east to Alexandria.  Elderly Daphne Palantus simply didn't want to leave home until now, but understands that elderly people who are not cared for and protected by their families don't last long with the Visigoths in charge.  Her daughter Envira, Envira's husband Armeus, their four children, and Daphne's bookish, timid son Seraphus are the rest.  They all live in the townhouse, but intend to move out soon.

For Florian and Quisquises, this is a promotion.  Now they are free men... err.. free Faun and Human Boy.  Of course, they are still in Massilia, so "free" is a matter of perception.  They are not slaves, at least.

Live in the manor he might, but it would never be 'his.'  It was a matter of convenience; House Palantus had a task they needed to see done, and Florian had to sleep somewhere.

If anything, being in the townhouse as a free faun made Florian more uncomfortable than he had ever felt as a slave.  His place had been clear, back then.  Now, every step he took was fleeing one corner of the suddenly unfamiliar place for another.  The presence of the last few members of the family made things even worse - what exactly was the relationship with them now?

His hooves absently and noisily slid across the floor as he walked, his slouch depressingly low.  He had three uncomfortable thoughts rolling around; the odd task he had been given, the uncomfortable and unfamiliar concept of money, and the sheer boredom that being free in the main home offered.  Each problem morphed into the next.

Quiquises held an unusual role in the Palantus household.

There were, Quiquises had heard, men who could call on... things, from somewhere other than this world to find out facts they needed to know. Facts on their friends, facts of their enemies, where people were, what they were saying- where certain things were. Things that were of shadow, not out in the light.

 Quiquises wondered if, should he meet those things, they would think of him as brother. He'd been in the House but never of it. Nobody spoke to him much. (Few were supposed to- he knew secrets, after all. And he mainly spoke when spoken to, by his betters.)

 Servants left food out, like you heard tell house-spirits of old got, but he neither ate with the household servants nor got served to dine.

And now, he was skulking about the now even-quieter House, staying out of the way and awaiting orders that might never come. He thought about his manumission ceremony. Bless them, they did it the Old Way- or as close as you could get in this city, with nothing the Palantus family considered a proper Magistrate.

Quiquises was- a rarity for him- called in front of what family were still in the House, as their evening meal drew to a close. And they addressed him, not as a shadow that brought secrets, but as a person.

They'd declared why they were letting him go. (Cold reasons though they were, they were real enough.) The master rose, held him for a moment, declared "I declare you a free man". Then he turned Quiquises round, let him go with a slight push, saying "...by my hand".... and that was it. He was freed. They'd even given him a small piece of paper he couldn't read, saying so. (Or so he trusted.)

 So... now what? he wondered.

The masters were still in the House, but no orders came for now. Quiquises had leisure time, and- a new thing- choice about what to do next... but both were strange experiences for him, and he surprised himself by how little he cared for either.

On it's own, his mind wandered back to see what he could remember before this time, this place, this role. Three feet of dirt in front of me, a million miles away, and nothing but weeds to pull. was the answer.

He dearly wished for the answers, and stared at the freedom in his hands.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:28, Wed 01 Aug 2018.

Lost in his boredom, Florian hardly noted Quiquises until he was nearly upon him.  Startled, the faun froze in his tracks and regarded his new 'brother,'  His alien, odd brother....  Shifting sheepishly, Florian bobbed nervously when he started to collect himself.  This was probably the first time he had been entirely alone with another person from the household, having attempted to remain either alone entirely or with enough others that he could remain forgotten in the background.

"So, we're free now...."  The embarrassingly obvious words didn't have much thought behind them, as they tumbled nervously out.  Nor were they alone.  "And adopted in to the family.  Is that weird for you, too?  I mean, I like them well enough, but it feels weird.  To be free.  And an extension of the House Palantus."

By the time his nervous rant was completed, Florian's cheeks had flushed with embarrassment, and mortified silence set in.  Well, there was always a corner to sleep in the family warehouse....

Florian and Quiquises are free, but they know that free is a very relative term in Massilia.

Some are free to leave the city, even they.  Men do every day, to work in the fields.
 But not the families.  The Visigoths do not let the children or wives leave.  Field workers return every night.  Other travelers are very restricted.  And it is not easy, and not safe.  If you have a stamped tax certificate- something the merchants get when they are traveling- or on a ship (which also pays its fees) that's one thing.  But, just walking along a road, you are fair game for anyone.  Or anything.  The wars have left the land of the Empire depopulated, and all sorts of dangerous beasts have moved in.

So even the free are kept in the city.

With slaves, there is a lot of variance among life styles.  The slaves who do the worst, most awful labor live horrible lives.  Others live fairly well.  Some even own property.  About a quarter to a third of the human population are slaves.  They are bought and sold, generally, at the slave market, which isn't open every day- just when a ship has come in, or the regular "swap meet and sale" is held.   The slave market is near to the Palantus warehouse.  It's just a short walk, and so Florian and Quiquises have seen it in action often.  For Florian, enough to get a fair handle on who is worth what.

Today, a slave ship has come in.  It is docked across the harbor in the Outer Harbor area, where most of the ocean going ships that do not belong to local families dock.  There is already buzz, even before they begin to unload, that it has arrived from a distant, exotic port.

It takes some doing to randomly trip on someone so keen on keeping out of the way. Even in the momentary discomfort, Quiquises was somewhat impressed.



"Yes. Very. 'New', y'might say.



Quiquises paused, in thought about what Florian just said. He had, of course, been told that the Palantus familiaris would be his Patron, and he their Client. Which was kind, but not unexpected- they weren't just going to abandon him, thankfully. But, until just then, he hadn't thought of himself as related to the household. More like a shovel that was no longer needed, and 'put away' in a shed.

"What will you do, do you think?"

In the mortified silence that followed, Quiquises added.

"...because I think I might take a walk, first. You?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:48, Sat 04 Aug 2018.

Florian's mouth gaped, and then he managed to shut it.  Quiquises looked to be handling the shift to freedom far more gracefully; perhaps he had somehow known to expect it in advance.

"I...guess?"  He replied, the idea only slowly becoming his own.  Aimless wandering would likely only lead to further awkwardness, whereas leaving the home for a few hours would mean more effectively avoiding the family.  "Anywhere specific you want to walk to?"

As the faun settled down his posture stabilized into a sheepish one, but at least he stopped constantly shifting his weight.

Quiquises thought about the question, for a moment.

He liked that the faun came down to his level. That was nice. Towering over people was a thing people did to pull rank on you.

"Out in the sun?" Quiquises finally said, deciding it on basic novelty. It hardly mattered where- the idea of just being out in the open for a moment for no particular reason seemed novel, to him.

(You can use the map of Massilia to designate any place more specific you want to go, of course)


Out in the sun gives them a lot of opportunities.  From here in the New Docks area they can see across the harbor- quite a commotion where that slave ship came in, and that means, something exotic.  The poor souls, whoever they are, won't be sold off right there- they'll be taken to the slave market to be put on display.  Everything in Massilia happens at its proper place, by order of the Visigoths.

If it came from somewhere exotic, it might mean animals, too, and those will go to the Animal Market.  Once, people bought exotic animals sometimes just to show off wealth. Having a few strange colorful birds around your property was a sign of status.  Peacocks were very popular for this, and a few of the wealthy houses still have them.

Here in the New Docks, it is a slow, sleepy day.  A single ship belonging to House Mercator is loading up for a journey somewhere- it looks like bundles of cloth and furs, bound for the merchants of the east.

Otherwise, what they see while outside depends very much on where they choose to go.

"All right.  Maybe we can watch the sailors?"  Florian suggested.  He quite liked watching people work along the water, or play in it.  There was some deep-rooted attraction there, no doubt.

Florian's immediate reaction was to avoid the markets, especially the obvious.  There was no need to go near them and experience the sorrow farmed there.  The gates were a possibility, with the prospect of true freedom, but then their freedom had not actually been free, and a debt was owed.

Trying not to be bogged down by too many thoughts, the faun gravitated more towards the water, though away from the orcs whenever possible.

They don’t have go far to see ships and sailors, they are in the New Docks ward of the city.  This area is most commonly used by traders who live here locally- or at least, are property holders here.  Many of the trading families of the Mediterranean have scattered branches.  Trusting to family loyalties more than local hires, they will settle brothers, sisters, and cousins of the leading members of the household in different key ports.  The Mercators are a well known example, with Mercators across the Mediterranean.  Massilia is an old port city, and despite the Visigoths still has one of the best reputations as a port anywhere west of Italia.  Of course, most of the Mediterranean coast west of Italia is under Visigoth or Vandal control.

As mentioned before it is a slow day.  Sea trade is busy in Massilia, and sometimes a dozen ships may depart in a day.  Today it is only one, a ship of House Mercator.  House Narcidus is also making their ship ready, with sailors checking and caulking seams and otherwise inspecting the ship.  But they won’t begin loading until the hull has been checked, and so the ship will sail tomorrow at the earliest.

Orcs leave human mariners alone.  Orcs themselves seem to dislike sailing.  When at sea, they will fight, ramming and boarding other ships, but most of them have no talent for seamanship and no desire to gain any.  The Visigoths, as a result, have no traders of their own and hardly any navy.  Mariner is a human occupation.

Orcs also tend to leave the more important families alone.  The Visigoths collect taxes and tribute, and occasionally make a show of demanding some ritual of obedience.  Aside from this, their leaders get that if squeezed too hard, the major families, with their trading connections scattered across the sea, will leave.  With them will go a lot of tax income.

Put the two factors together, and this is why the New Docks, despite being next door to the Slave Market, is seldom visited by Orcs.  You can walk around the docks and warehouses here and almost never see one.

It also bears on why, along with freedom, you were specifically left as “employees” of House Palantus.  As long as you have that, you have some security.  They are less likely to find some random reason to abuse someone under the wing of a trading house.

You are both probably well known in this neighborhood, as it is where you have worked since arriving here.  Florian especially- being the only Faun around he is a novelty, and easily recognizable. And having a high charisma score he is well liked by many of the people who know him.  Along the New Docks, with the sailors and dock workers, you are among friends.

(Sorry for the delay- this all sounds, due to close location and Quiquises' willingness to just "Get out of the house", perfect.)

The two walk past the docks owned by one of the peculiar trading Houses:  The Honored Of Neptune Open Trading Society.  It's peculiar in that almost anyone can join it.  No blood ties, no long guild initiation, if you have the gold to buy in, you're a member.  Of course they don't have a big guild hall- just offices along with their warehouse next to the dock.

At the end of every voyage. the profits are distributed in accordance with the investment. It's a strange and new way of doing business, although they say it's been going in the Empire for centuries now.  It just hasn't been very popular here.

They have four ships, three of which are currently out on voyages to the east, and one running along the Narbonensis coast to Baelo, the north side of the Pillars of Hercules.  Right now, with none in, the "dock gang" is relaxing, making repairs, cleaning and generally having an easy time.

They are talking about a petition by a local tavern owner to be granted a license for gambling.  Mixed attitudes- a few of the workers are convinced it's only a scheme to suck out even more money for the Visigoths to collect.  Others think its just for fun, so who cares what you spend your fun money on, as long as you like it?

Florian knows them.  As mentioned before, he is well known here, and has a good reputation.

Florian sent Quisquises a glance, begging permission with his eyes, before directing them more towards the sailors and ships.  He was almost eager to introduce his fellow 'servant' to the friends he'd made.  Somewhat automatically, the faun produced his pipes - a set of a few crudely whittled reeds of varying lengths and widths - and gave the workers a tune.  A mournful one, to be sure, with a few teasing lilts that intentionally stopped just shy of scratching the itch left by the rest of the piece.

While Florian's music was commonly heard at the Palantus manor, he was usually discouraged from playing his sad songs or otherwise ordered to play cheerier melodies.  Beautiful as that music may have been, it hardly compared in scope or complexity to the heart-wrenching dirge he had selected.

Quiquises soaks in every last detail he can of the goings-on around him. As if he were going to be questioned on what he saw, and there was a trick to the tableau in front of him.

He bristled, slightly, at the prospect of being introduced to Florian's friends. Quiquises, typically was "some child" or "an urchin" at best. Names made that rather trickier. But... he did not object out loud, or make a scene. (Trying his best to take the route where he'd cause the least fuss.)

The music was a gift, in this regard- and Florian certainly performed well enough that Quiquises fell back into the scenery a little. Aside from a little awkwardness at the end (do you cheer such a song?), Quiquises enjoyed it a great deal.

Not enough to stop looking around like he was going to be graded on it, but sincerely nonetheless.

The Dock Gang applauds the flute music, and calls Florian and Quiquises over, having a few questions for them.

News of House Palantus “reorganizing” has reached the dock gang.  Officially, House Palantus isn’t leaving.  But word gets around quickly among dock workers.  They know already that all of the key people are leaving shortly, that a few slaves have been granted manumission, and that some “new people” will be arriving to manage the affairs of the house.  It’s plain to the dock workers:  House Palantus is making a run for it, leaving a few employees so they can still make some money here.

“It’s just like the rich bigshots,” one of the dock workers says. “If they’re heading for friendlier shores, they could have taken you along too.  Well, it could be worse, I’d bet if it was House Bastior leaving they wouldn’t give you a choice, just kept you on as slaves to whoever they picked to manage things.”

“Wouldn’t want to manage their things, the things they get mixed up in,” another says.  “Honored of Neptune is too big to keep secrets, everything they have is up and up, respectable, but Bastior holds their cards close.”

“Careful with that talk,” a tall, older sailor advises quietly.  "So, what’s it like now?  Are you going to be their manager now, give orders to the likes of us?”  The question is naturally directed more to Florian, because they don't expect that the young Quiquises, even though free, would be given any responsibilities more than  "apprentice clerk".

Given the circumstances, Quiquises listens to Florian and continues to learn.

It actually feels "at home" for him that he's sidelined and not-attended-to. And Florian might know something Quiquises did not.

Even moderate applause for the song one wanted to play was far, far sweeter than the brightest praise for one played under pressure and protest.  Florian basked in it, debating giving another tune before the sailors all bore down with hundreds of questions.  Florian expected as much, at least partially, and he was fairly relaxed with the rate of them.  If anything, the presence of another member of the house was the part that made him less comfortable.

"At least I - we - got our freedoms out of it.  I'd rather be here doing the a favor as a free man than the alternative of still being a slave, here or elsewhere."  Florian softly protested, slowly sliding his simple pipes back into his belt.  "Besides, if I want to be somewhere more friendly, I come here."

"I think they wanted me to stay and manage, but all I agreed to was to stay around long enough and help whoever it is they brought...sent? in to get situated.  After that, I don't think I have the taste to help run a merchant empire."

"I'll just have to make my own way." Quiquises says, quietly, so Florian can hear. "Maybe see you where to you're going?"

(He's sort of realizing Florian and he are in the same boat, and so is looking for common cause.)
This message was last edited by the player at 01:55, Tue 21 Aug 2018.

The dock workers and sailors are skeptical. How can someone not want a life as a trade clerk?  That's an easy life.

"There's a good many people who dream of such a chance, the tall old sailor says.  "Steady, good pay, you write things down in books, you tell the likes of us what gets put where.  Don't be so quick to dismiss a chance like that.  Someone like you..."

He looks down towards Florian's hoofed feet.

"Now don't take this wrong, I'm sure they work well where they are supposed to, but I don't think it's a sailor's life for you.  I wouldn't want to climb around rigging, or up and down ladders, wearing those.  No, I say you got yourself a fine chance and I know others who would gladly take your place."

"Hello?" calls Haakon.  "Anybody?"  He turns to the porter.  "Wait here please." He says, and with that he walks around the building, looking for someone, anyone to whom he can introduce himself.

Finding nobody for the moment, he sought out a room in which he can store those things he will not be taking to the market and from which he can easily access the roof should the insideness get to be too much.  He paid the porter giving him a tip larger than the fee so that more went to the porter than the porter's master.  "Thank you," he said, "What's your name.  I'll be sure to ask for you in future".

Having found himself a room with access to the roof, he moved to the entrance awaiting the return of whoever was in charge.  In the meantime, he sat in tailor's seat and began sewing the parts together with green thread as he worked to finish Swift's dress.

When Florian and/or Quiquises returned from the docks, he rose to his feet and offered his hands.  "Ave!", he said in Latin, "Pleased to meet you  I am Freiherr Haakon Pedlar, otherwise known as Haakon the Dressmaker.  I shall be staying here for a while.  I hope my presence does not place any burden on anyone."

House Palantus actually has two properties in Massilia, the townhouse and the warehouse.

Up to now, Florian and Quiquises, having been slaves, lived in the quarters in the warehouse in the New Docks District, rather than the Palantus Townhouse in the Old Town, which although very nice was considered too small for any servants but the principal domestics.

Who Haakon would meet depends on which of the two buildings he headed for.

OOC: Thank you! Huge help. Either didn't get  parts of that before or just missed it.

Having heard the dockmen speak, and Florian (for lack of a better word) "holding court", Quiquises subtly indicated to his 'travelling companion' that, perhaps, they should check out their new accomodations.

Floria snorted.  "Ever seen a goat climb a cliff?  They might as well be walking straight up."  He gave a friendly push to the sailon in question.  The comforts of affluence were an uncomfortable topic for the satyr, almost as much as tryig to put his own objections into words woud be, and he was eager to deflect them.  "The sea is where the nymphs bathe.  Apparently I'm to marry one, from what the stories say about my kind.  I don't figure any will wind up here for me, or that an untamed wild beauty would settle for a clerk and a slave both.  A sailor, now....."

Quisquises' subtle indication that they should leave made Florian worry that perhaps he had said something the other former slave found offensive.  He produced his pipes again and excused himsekf into another tune.  Not cheery, specifically, but a good rhythm to work to all the same.  There were words to it that Florian didn't actually know.  He remained a few paces behind Quisquises, using the distance and the music to avoid any awkward conversation.