Good Intentions - Part 1

Written by Clint

As I wandered down one of the many bustling streets of Ceranna, my thoughts were focused on Felina and what I could do to further mend our friendship. I had barely managed to express to her my sincere apology for all the ways I had scorned her in the past. I was blind to it all until recent events, but now the weight of my actions in so many past occurrences had become a heavy burden.

Though she might take it as a bribe, I sought a special gift for her as a way of easing tensions. I wanted to give her something personal, but not too much so.  Being somewhat unfamiliar with the notion of gift giving, I searched now for some sign of inspiration. After quite some time had passed, I happened upon a rather upscale auction taking place. It seemed far too fortuitous to ignore, so I somewhat abused my station in the city and arranged for a seat even though it was closed to the general public.

As usual in the typical garb of Pharasma’s followers, I stood out among the throng of nobility. All of them gathered to purchase more impractical items to flaunt their wealth and fill their homes despite the fact that all they owned and indeed their very lives were in danger of being destroyed in the relatively near future. While all the so called upper class strained to appear bored as the items they so obviously wanted were presented, I had no need to feign it at all. Endless arrays of garish and absurd items were shown and purchased for equally ridiculous prices, but nothing I saw would undoubtedly illicit more than a guffaw from Felina. Although that might have eased the tensions a bit further, it was not the response for which I aimed.

I had all but given up on leaving with anything other than a wasted afternoon, when the auctioneer spoke the word “Elven,” and my attention was recaptured. I scanned the crowd for signs of interest, but strangely, everyone seemed quite restrained. Soon thereafter, pin pricks of slight anxiety seemed to emanate from throughout the room. Except for one man who instead exuded an extreme air of self-satisfaction. His features were not elven alone, but were obviously shaped by human blood as well. He was what I guess some would call a handsome man, and though he looked quite fragile in frame, I knew better than to judge anyone solely by physical appearance.

Pretending to return my attention to the platform ahead, I closed my eyes, and focused my thoughts solely on him. Over time, I had learned how to better focus my empathic abilities towards an individual. My sense of a person would always take the form of vague imagery that I was unable to accurately convey to anyone else. This man had an extreme confidence that seemed to come from owning much wealth and land which were foremost to power in the upper echelons of society. I could not sense any deliberate malice from him, but I knew such a person could react in a drastic manner to a perceived disrespect.

Though I could not say why at the time, something about the whole situation irritated me to no end. Looking back, I realize that I had pretty much decided the elven “artifacts” belonged to Felina, and this man was about to try to take something of hers. Admittedly, it was quite childish behavior, and also a sign of many changes taking place within me, but that is another story altogether.

I made no attempt to pray to Pharasma, as it all seemed so mundane, but instead I relied upon my own strength. As strange as it was to place such importance on material items, the need to show Felina that I was willing to put forth great effort to make her how much she meant to me was more important than anything else at that moment in time. The first item was brought out, and I immediately felt the man’s confidence in the notion of adding something unique to his vast collection unopposed. As a man unused to opposition, I knew I could use his confidence to my advantage and catch him off guard.

The auctioneer started to describe the item, which on the surface seemed nothing more than a simple and unimpressive dull red gem, but obviously there was something more to it than that. He went on to say that it was a very rare item given the means of crafting them had been lost for many centuries. Known as “Taestysia,” with the proper focus during the elven state of trancing, the gemstones conjured up memories both of the creator of the stone and those of the one attempting to draw upon its magic. Even if it had not been a potential gift for Felina, I was thoroughly intrigued at the notion of recovering previously lost knowledge.

When the customary description was completed to his satisfaction, the agent opened the floor for bids. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment before the man calmly raised his hand and bid a relatively low but still higher than necessary amount. Even if I were unable to sense his emotions, his self-satisfaction was exceedingly obvious on his face as I glanced as casually as possible in his direction. As the bid lingered among the awkwardness, the only sound was of the occasional shuffling of another bidder’s feet or awkward cough.

At the last possible moment, I topped his bid by one-hundred pieces of gold. Almost instantaneously, I could feel an inordinate amount of irritation exuding from him and genuine surprise throughout the room. It took him a moment to overcome the unthinkable notion that someone else would dare to bid against him before he topped my bid with another twenty-five pieces of gold, and then without hesitation, I calmly added one-hundred more to my offer.

Given the initial wave of frustration, I expected more anger to follow, and though it was suitably present, there was also strangely enough a hint of alarm. Fully aware of the effect my appearance had on most, I unabashedly looked back at him with my best blank expression beneath a still drawn hood, and his indignation was palpable. He quickly regained his outward composure and added ten more gold beyond the current bid. For some reason, he was being much more conservative with his funds. I suddenly realized the amount of money with which he was willing to part was not as high as everyone expected, and he undoubtedly counted on his reputation to hide that fact.

Calmly, I added another fifty pieces of gold to my offer, and his façade crumbled as he stormed out of the auction house like a petulant child and never returned. I could feel all eyes on me along with a strong mix of curiosity and bewilderment throughout the room. The bidding continued uneventfully beyond that, and I was able to procure the stone at the escalated price, and more reasonably, a masterful painting of a regal elven woman by an artist I was told was now deceased and finally, a sovereign of an old, even by their standards, vintage elven wine that was preserved in the cold of the ocean floor among the wreckage of a trade ship lost long ago.

I had hoped Felina would see the gifts as something quite special, and strange as it was to me at the time, I was quite anxious at the notion of presenting them to her. I had begun to imagine awkward scenarios in which she would find the gifts unimpressive or perceive them as a blatant attempt to buy my way back into her favor when I really wanted nothing more than to surprise her with something personal and unusual.

I arranged to have the items delivered later that night and headed back. As the evening lamps were lit throughout the city, I waited inside the manor behind one of the windows looking out over the busy streets. At the exact appointed time, the delivery cart pulled up to the gate, was greeted by the gatekeeper and then escorted up to the manor. Shortly thereafter, I could hear the butler conversing with the gatekeeper at the door, and I made my way to the hall to present the gifts to her.