Post by Brandwyn on Jul 10, 2014 21:18:24 GMT -5
(OCC: This takes place in the southern edge of Meric on Lady Brandwyn's family estates. Open to Tandar, Brandwyn, Tory, Patrick and if others want to join please ask Brandwyn or Tandar if it is okay.)
Timeline: In the evening, Early spring after the Yule Ball in which Tandar and Brandwyn got engaged. Also slightly over one year past the onset of the plague...
Brandwyn closed her father's financial log book from five years ago. It was his last log book, ending abruptly in a tangled mess from a business perspective, because he had died in an accident involving a war horse. She marked the page with a beautiful lace bookmark made by her mother. Then she rubbed her eyes, forehead and temples and sighed in exasperation. She crossed her arms on top of the ledger and lay her head on them for a moment and let her mind drift.
Her lip brushed the beautiful engagement ring Tandar had given her just a few months before and her thoughts immediately went to him, wondering what he was doing that very moment and where he was, just as they always did whenever she stopped focusing on some particular problem.
"Oh Tandar, I could sure use your advice right now," she breathed into the crook of her elbow. "Is this to be my married life? Sitting at home, struggling to keep this place running and pay taxes and wondering if my husband has been murdered by bandits?" She supposed that was exactly what it was going to be like, a great deal of the time anyway.
But then she remembered the last picnic she and Tandar had gone on right before he set out on his ranger duties.
They had ridden out to her favorite spot when she was a child where there was a meadow hidden in the trees along a stream. It was secluded and hard to find and they'd had a perfect afternoon swimming and splashing in the cool stream. Tandar had laughed and they flirted just like the first time they had met. For a few hours they put aside all their worries and problems and just enjoyed eachother's company.
Brandwyn smiled as she recalled the day, nearly a month ago now. Perhaps he would be swinging back around this way in his patrol of the fief of Meric and would be able to stay a day or two. She missed him so much her heart ached. They hadn't even had a chance to set the date for their wedding yet and she was determined to get that worked out the next time she saw him.
That was only one problem she and Tandar faced, however, and not a very big problem all things considered. Tandar, with the passing of his father close to a year ago, was now the head of his household and often had to deal with affairs of his estate up in Caraway, even though he had appointed someone to care for his family home and lands. His household was far more prominent in Araluen society than was Brandwyn's. Her father and mother had been very minor nobles, Lord and Lady only with no other titles and just enough land to provide war horses to the Baron.
Which brought Brandwyn's thoughts back around to her biggest problem; the declining condition of her estate. If things continued as they had been doing for the last five years, and actually for most of her father's management of the House, then in another four or five years she would be destitute (not counting the merger of her lands to Tandar's once they were wed.) The Alston Estate was being run into the ground. She lifted her head and looked crossly at the ledger next to the pile of older ledgers on her desk. She had reached a conclusion nearly an hour ago. "My father was either an imbecile or insane," she stated to no one in particular.
"My Lady! You shouldn't say such things about your father!" admonished Tory Waterton's mother, Patricia of Coltrane. Brandwyn jumped a bit in surprise and watched the older woman cross the room with a tray of hot chocolate and small cakes, butter, hot rolls and orange marmalade.
Brandwyn recovered quickly and reached for a hot roll. "If you saw these ledgers, you would understand what I mean," she explained as she slathered butter and marmalade on it.
"Forgive me, My Lady. It is not my place to say anything, but I was raised to honor my father and mother," Patricia bowed her head and started to back away.
"Come sit with me," ordered Brandwyn. "I am in need of your wisdom." She motioned to the seat in front of her desk.
Patricia shook her head, "It wouldn't be proper, Miss Brandwyn."
Brandwyn glared at her, "it most certainly would be proper. You are not a servant here, Patricia," Brandwyn said sternly. "You are not a serf or a slave. That life is over. You are my Lady-in-waiting and as such you are to keep me company and offer up your council." She set the roll on the tray again and took Patricia by the hand and led her to the window seat under the huge picture window behind her desk and forced the woman to sit down. Then she sat down across from her, leaning her back against the thick window frame.
Patricia bowed her head for a moment and said, "I really have no idea what a Lady-in-waiting does. I have lived my whole life as a serf. Please forgive my ignorance."
Brandwyn smiled sympathetically at her. "Don't worry about it. I have no idea how to make use of Lady-in-waiting anyway. I just couldn't bear to leave you there in that hovel under that woman's thumb. It was breaking my heart and I can't imagine what it was doing to Tory." Brandwyn reached out and squeezed her hand. "Don't you understand? You are free to do whatever you want now."
A tear slid down Patricia's cheek. "I know that, but you paid for me and now I must work for you to pay you back."
"No, you don't owe me anything," Brandwyn disagreed. "Tory saved my life over in Gallica and you are the one who brought her into the world, so you have more than paid back the debt, not that there really was one anyway."
She let that sink in for a minute. Neither of them saying more.
"Now, perhaps you can help me come up with a way to keep me from loosing Alston Manor," She said, looking out over the pastures that now only housed less than 50 horses. "Since my father took over running the place, there has been a steady loss. In the last five years, since my father was killed and the Baron has been managing things, our assets have been sold off one-by-one to pay for the servants and operating expenses." She rubbed her face in her hands again. "During the last year, he started selling off the horses - the breeding stock that could have turned this place around if he'd known what to do."
Patricia listened intently, nodding occasionally. She'd heard as much from the kitchen maids. They were all fearful of being tossed into the plague ridden streets.
"Now there really aren't enough of the good horses left and it will take too many years to make a profit from them anyway, especially when people aren't buying anything except food right now." Brandwyn went on. "I just don't know what to do to keep this place going. I only know I am not asking Tandar for a dime of his family's money. If anything I owe him money for a dowry."
Patricia looked out the window as the evening sun sank lower to the horizon just out of view. It cast long, red-purple shadows across the land. Suddenly she sat up, looking at the land outside the window. Rolling hills covered in rich pasture grass - acres of it. An idea dawned and she said excitedly, "So give the people what they want!"
Brandwyn looked confused, trying to figure out what she was looking at through the window, "Well that's what I am trying to figure out," Brandwyn countered. "What do you mean?"
"Food!" Patricia answered. "If all they are buying is food, then supply it!" She swept her arm out toward the pastures. "You have more than enough land to turn some of it into crops and still keep enough pasture to rebuild your herds."
Brandwyn looked at her like she was crazy. "Farming? I don't know the first thing about farming!"
"You don't have to," Patricia explained, "you just have to find someone who does know farming to be your crop manager."
Brandwyn looked out the window and considered the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. "Farming... there would be a lot to get started. I would need to buy seed. What would we grow?"
"Corn, wheat, beans and potatoes," suggested Patricia. "That will feed the commoners and that is who you need to have for your end user, with your manor Lords as your market target."
It made sense, Brandwyn had to admit, though she needed to ponder the idea and examine all the possibilities. One of those being what Tandar would think of the idea.
She picked up her now cooled roll and took a bite. Chewing it slowly, she pondered the possibility of branching out into farming. "We would need to hire workers to plant and tend the crops and more to harvest them. I have little money in the coffers, so how would I pay them?"
"Offer them a bit of the food they help harvest." Once again Patricia came up with a great idea. "In these times, most people would rather get paid in food than money."
Brandwyn nodded, "Farming...Hmph? I wonder what Tandar will think of the idea."
Timeline: In the evening, Early spring after the Yule Ball in which Tandar and Brandwyn got engaged. Also slightly over one year past the onset of the plague...
Brandwyn closed her father's financial log book from five years ago. It was his last log book, ending abruptly in a tangled mess from a business perspective, because he had died in an accident involving a war horse. She marked the page with a beautiful lace bookmark made by her mother. Then she rubbed her eyes, forehead and temples and sighed in exasperation. She crossed her arms on top of the ledger and lay her head on them for a moment and let her mind drift.
Her lip brushed the beautiful engagement ring Tandar had given her just a few months before and her thoughts immediately went to him, wondering what he was doing that very moment and where he was, just as they always did whenever she stopped focusing on some particular problem.
"Oh Tandar, I could sure use your advice right now," she breathed into the crook of her elbow. "Is this to be my married life? Sitting at home, struggling to keep this place running and pay taxes and wondering if my husband has been murdered by bandits?" She supposed that was exactly what it was going to be like, a great deal of the time anyway.
But then she remembered the last picnic she and Tandar had gone on right before he set out on his ranger duties.
They had ridden out to her favorite spot when she was a child where there was a meadow hidden in the trees along a stream. It was secluded and hard to find and they'd had a perfect afternoon swimming and splashing in the cool stream. Tandar had laughed and they flirted just like the first time they had met. For a few hours they put aside all their worries and problems and just enjoyed eachother's company.
Brandwyn smiled as she recalled the day, nearly a month ago now. Perhaps he would be swinging back around this way in his patrol of the fief of Meric and would be able to stay a day or two. She missed him so much her heart ached. They hadn't even had a chance to set the date for their wedding yet and she was determined to get that worked out the next time she saw him.
That was only one problem she and Tandar faced, however, and not a very big problem all things considered. Tandar, with the passing of his father close to a year ago, was now the head of his household and often had to deal with affairs of his estate up in Caraway, even though he had appointed someone to care for his family home and lands. His household was far more prominent in Araluen society than was Brandwyn's. Her father and mother had been very minor nobles, Lord and Lady only with no other titles and just enough land to provide war horses to the Baron.
Which brought Brandwyn's thoughts back around to her biggest problem; the declining condition of her estate. If things continued as they had been doing for the last five years, and actually for most of her father's management of the House, then in another four or five years she would be destitute (not counting the merger of her lands to Tandar's once they were wed.) The Alston Estate was being run into the ground. She lifted her head and looked crossly at the ledger next to the pile of older ledgers on her desk. She had reached a conclusion nearly an hour ago. "My father was either an imbecile or insane," she stated to no one in particular.
"My Lady! You shouldn't say such things about your father!" admonished Tory Waterton's mother, Patricia of Coltrane. Brandwyn jumped a bit in surprise and watched the older woman cross the room with a tray of hot chocolate and small cakes, butter, hot rolls and orange marmalade.
Brandwyn recovered quickly and reached for a hot roll. "If you saw these ledgers, you would understand what I mean," she explained as she slathered butter and marmalade on it.
"Forgive me, My Lady. It is not my place to say anything, but I was raised to honor my father and mother," Patricia bowed her head and started to back away.
"Come sit with me," ordered Brandwyn. "I am in need of your wisdom." She motioned to the seat in front of her desk.
Patricia shook her head, "It wouldn't be proper, Miss Brandwyn."
Brandwyn glared at her, "it most certainly would be proper. You are not a servant here, Patricia," Brandwyn said sternly. "You are not a serf or a slave. That life is over. You are my Lady-in-waiting and as such you are to keep me company and offer up your council." She set the roll on the tray again and took Patricia by the hand and led her to the window seat under the huge picture window behind her desk and forced the woman to sit down. Then she sat down across from her, leaning her back against the thick window frame.
Patricia bowed her head for a moment and said, "I really have no idea what a Lady-in-waiting does. I have lived my whole life as a serf. Please forgive my ignorance."
Brandwyn smiled sympathetically at her. "Don't worry about it. I have no idea how to make use of Lady-in-waiting anyway. I just couldn't bear to leave you there in that hovel under that woman's thumb. It was breaking my heart and I can't imagine what it was doing to Tory." Brandwyn reached out and squeezed her hand. "Don't you understand? You are free to do whatever you want now."
A tear slid down Patricia's cheek. "I know that, but you paid for me and now I must work for you to pay you back."
"No, you don't owe me anything," Brandwyn disagreed. "Tory saved my life over in Gallica and you are the one who brought her into the world, so you have more than paid back the debt, not that there really was one anyway."
She let that sink in for a minute. Neither of them saying more.
"Now, perhaps you can help me come up with a way to keep me from loosing Alston Manor," She said, looking out over the pastures that now only housed less than 50 horses. "Since my father took over running the place, there has been a steady loss. In the last five years, since my father was killed and the Baron has been managing things, our assets have been sold off one-by-one to pay for the servants and operating expenses." She rubbed her face in her hands again. "During the last year, he started selling off the horses - the breeding stock that could have turned this place around if he'd known what to do."
Patricia listened intently, nodding occasionally. She'd heard as much from the kitchen maids. They were all fearful of being tossed into the plague ridden streets.
"Now there really aren't enough of the good horses left and it will take too many years to make a profit from them anyway, especially when people aren't buying anything except food right now." Brandwyn went on. "I just don't know what to do to keep this place going. I only know I am not asking Tandar for a dime of his family's money. If anything I owe him money for a dowry."
Patricia looked out the window as the evening sun sank lower to the horizon just out of view. It cast long, red-purple shadows across the land. Suddenly she sat up, looking at the land outside the window. Rolling hills covered in rich pasture grass - acres of it. An idea dawned and she said excitedly, "So give the people what they want!"
Brandwyn looked confused, trying to figure out what she was looking at through the window, "Well that's what I am trying to figure out," Brandwyn countered. "What do you mean?"
"Food!" Patricia answered. "If all they are buying is food, then supply it!" She swept her arm out toward the pastures. "You have more than enough land to turn some of it into crops and still keep enough pasture to rebuild your herds."
Brandwyn looked at her like she was crazy. "Farming? I don't know the first thing about farming!"
"You don't have to," Patricia explained, "you just have to find someone who does know farming to be your crop manager."
Brandwyn looked out the window and considered the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. "Farming... there would be a lot to get started. I would need to buy seed. What would we grow?"
"Corn, wheat, beans and potatoes," suggested Patricia. "That will feed the commoners and that is who you need to have for your end user, with your manor Lords as your market target."
It made sense, Brandwyn had to admit, though she needed to ponder the idea and examine all the possibilities. One of those being what Tandar would think of the idea.
She picked up her now cooled roll and took a bite. Chewing it slowly, she pondered the possibility of branching out into farming. "We would need to hire workers to plant and tend the crops and more to harvest them. I have little money in the coffers, so how would I pay them?"
"Offer them a bit of the food they help harvest." Once again Patricia came up with a great idea. "In these times, most people would rather get paid in food than money."
Brandwyn nodded, "Farming...Hmph? I wonder what Tandar will think of the idea."