Introduction: Leocadia
Jun. 30th, 2016 06:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonmagitechEureka’s office was one of the largest chambers on the second floor, but you could be forgiven for thinking otherwise, because all but a Tundra-sized space was occupied at all times. When the Room of Records was initially constructed a variety of cavities had been carved into the walls for storage purposes, but they had proven insufficient for the files of the entire clan, especially given the number of calamities they had weathered; most of the floor space contained wooden cabinets in a variety of sizes and styles, often with drawers left slightly open to accommodate the press of papers inside them. One or two of the now-hidden holes in the wall went through to the outside, and every so often wind howled through them, strewing loose papers about.
In the middle of all this was one fairly large desk, covered mostly by stacks of paper, writing implements, and folders. Behind the desk, or more usually on top of it, was Eureka.
On this particular occasion he hardly reacted to the interruption, glancing up once and grunting in acknowledgment before returning to his frantic scribbling.
Chandler winced and said, “There’s a train in from Wind. You’re needed in case there’s cargo.”
“Trade matter,” he said. If it was possible to squeak in a monotone, Eureka managed it. “Your responsibility, yes?”
“Not until money’s exchanged. Fang’s gotten all concerned about what goods are passing through our territory, which I happen to think is perfectly reasonable, and those kinds of records are all yours.”
“Unfortunate,” Eureka said, and then his frills twitched. “Wait—you said Wind? Why would—there’s no—we don’t even share a border with Wind! The trains don’t even leave—are you sure?”
“Well…I’m not the one who spotted it, I haven’t been outside today, but Achinoam was sure. And just as confused as you are, I might add.”
“Very well. I will go.” He plucked a file from the mess on his desk and brushed past Chandler to the hallway out.
He wasn’t in the habit of doubting Achinoam’s judgment on non-demon-related matters, but it was still something of a shock to see the enormous orange sails approaching the far edge of the canyon. There weren’t as many as he would have expected; he’d seen one or two such conveyances when accompanying Sylvester to the Cloudsong, one of those excursions Eureka hadn’t bothered with in some time, and they’d been quite a bit longer than the train that was currently approaching. Curious.
He landed on the cliff’s edge and walked the rest of the way to the train, which on further inspection consisted of only an engine and a single wagon. The rails it had stopped on were technically Sparkspell’s own, given that they fell within the clan’s territory, though nobody went so far as to think the trains came this way as a convenience to them; mainly it seemed to be a way of pushing the maintenance for that stretch of track onto someone other than the Army. Eureka had rarely seen a train stop here, and certainly not one out of another flight. That didn’t happen.
When he reached the engine a bright blue Snapper appeared seemingly from nowhere and broke into what long experience told him was a grin.
“Hey there, little fella!” Her hat was slipping down over one eye, and she made no move to correct it. “Where’d you come from? Do you know anything about—no, you’re Nature, never mind. What’d you need?”
“I…” It took him a moment to sort out all those questions. “I am Eureka of Clan Sparkspell come to inspect your cargo. We have to keep a record of the goods that pass through our lands.”
“Why’s that?”
Eureka blinked. It had been years since he’d met someone unaware of the clan’s reputation. “We’ve occasionally been caught or implicated in…certain suspicious activities. It’s important that we be aware if someone is transporting illegal or stolen materials through our territory.”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s an issue of—we have to think about—” He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “If we’re going to be accused of something we’d rather not be caught unawares. And we do occasionally report things to the appropriate authorities. Additionally, we would not want to miss a…business opportunity.”
The Snapper laughed. It was disconcerting. “I know just what you mean. Sorry to say, I don’t have any business opportunities for ya. Matter of fact I don’t have anything except old Viatrix here.” She nudged the engine with her tail. “Actually, that’s why I stopped. Saw all those little holes in the cliff down there and thought maybe I could find someone to help me resupply, give me directions, that kinda thing. I don’t have the energy to power her just now.”
“Is it legal to take a Wind train out of Wind territory?”
“Sure! It’s just a bad idea. Without me along to maintain her she wouldn’t be holding up so well.”
“I see.” He made some notes in the file he’d brought along. He had no idea if there was a central train authority in Wind—though privately he rather thought there wasn’t—but if someone came through asking questions he wanted to be able to answer them. “We may be able to help you,” he said slowly, which is to say he said it at any other dragon’s regular speed. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned about twenty minutes later accompanied by Vinegar, who, though not entirely pleased about the interruption, hid this fact much better than he did; if he hadn’t known her so well he wouldn’t have even suspected anything amiss. Vinegar said, “Good morning, miss…”
“Leocadia’s the name, if you please.”
“Certainly.” Vinegar settled carefully next to the tracks. “If I might ask, Leocadia, what is it that brings you onto our land with another flight’s train to begin with.”
“Ah.” Leocadia looked down. “I, uh, may have gotten in a little bit of trouble back home. Smuggling operation. But you all don’t seem like the kinda clan that’d be bothered by that?” It sounded like a question.
“True,” Vinegar said. “So this train is, in fact, stolen goods.”
“No! She belongs to me, always has. I was hoping to set up shop somewhere with looser regulations,” and here she looked up at the crackling points of the Tempest Spire in the distance, “I wasn’t even planning to stop in these parts, but I kinda ran down. I had to take her with me if I was gonna keep doing my work.”
“Of course.”
Vinegar turned to Eureka, who somewhat exasperatedly gestured his approval. As the most senior member of the clan far too much weight was put on his opinion, at least as far as he was concerned. But he supposed he was technically responsible for this decision.
“I would like to make you an offer, Leocadia,” said Vinegar. “Out here in the canyon we are not so much under the Stormcatcher’s watchful eye. Our numbers are limited and our reach small, and this has sometimes hindered our work. My offer to you is a place to rest and resupply whenever you should need, a place where you will not be judged for your activities, in exchange for your assistance when a need for it should arise.”
Leocadia did…something with her face. The meaning of it was entirely foreign to Eureka, who hadn’t known a lot of Snappers in his time and was already at somewhat of a disadvantage interpreting her craggy features. She said, “Throw in payment per trip. Don’t have to be big, but I can’t have people thinking I work for free.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Deal.” The grin returned. “Now, what kinda vegetarian options you got around here? I have a job waiting for me up Light way.”
In the middle of all this was one fairly large desk, covered mostly by stacks of paper, writing implements, and folders. Behind the desk, or more usually on top of it, was Eureka.
On this particular occasion he hardly reacted to the interruption, glancing up once and grunting in acknowledgment before returning to his frantic scribbling.
Chandler winced and said, “There’s a train in from Wind. You’re needed in case there’s cargo.”
“Trade matter,” he said. If it was possible to squeak in a monotone, Eureka managed it. “Your responsibility, yes?”
“Not until money’s exchanged. Fang’s gotten all concerned about what goods are passing through our territory, which I happen to think is perfectly reasonable, and those kinds of records are all yours.”
“Unfortunate,” Eureka said, and then his frills twitched. “Wait—you said Wind? Why would—there’s no—we don’t even share a border with Wind! The trains don’t even leave—are you sure?”
“Well…I’m not the one who spotted it, I haven’t been outside today, but Achinoam was sure. And just as confused as you are, I might add.”
“Very well. I will go.” He plucked a file from the mess on his desk and brushed past Chandler to the hallway out.
He wasn’t in the habit of doubting Achinoam’s judgment on non-demon-related matters, but it was still something of a shock to see the enormous orange sails approaching the far edge of the canyon. There weren’t as many as he would have expected; he’d seen one or two such conveyances when accompanying Sylvester to the Cloudsong, one of those excursions Eureka hadn’t bothered with in some time, and they’d been quite a bit longer than the train that was currently approaching. Curious.
He landed on the cliff’s edge and walked the rest of the way to the train, which on further inspection consisted of only an engine and a single wagon. The rails it had stopped on were technically Sparkspell’s own, given that they fell within the clan’s territory, though nobody went so far as to think the trains came this way as a convenience to them; mainly it seemed to be a way of pushing the maintenance for that stretch of track onto someone other than the Army. Eureka had rarely seen a train stop here, and certainly not one out of another flight. That didn’t happen.
When he reached the engine a bright blue Snapper appeared seemingly from nowhere and broke into what long experience told him was a grin.
“Hey there, little fella!” Her hat was slipping down over one eye, and she made no move to correct it. “Where’d you come from? Do you know anything about—no, you’re Nature, never mind. What’d you need?”
“I…” It took him a moment to sort out all those questions. “I am Eureka of Clan Sparkspell come to inspect your cargo. We have to keep a record of the goods that pass through our lands.”
“Why’s that?”
Eureka blinked. It had been years since he’d met someone unaware of the clan’s reputation. “We’ve occasionally been caught or implicated in…certain suspicious activities. It’s important that we be aware if someone is transporting illegal or stolen materials through our territory.”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s an issue of—we have to think about—” He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “If we’re going to be accused of something we’d rather not be caught unawares. And we do occasionally report things to the appropriate authorities. Additionally, we would not want to miss a…business opportunity.”
The Snapper laughed. It was disconcerting. “I know just what you mean. Sorry to say, I don’t have any business opportunities for ya. Matter of fact I don’t have anything except old Viatrix here.” She nudged the engine with her tail. “Actually, that’s why I stopped. Saw all those little holes in the cliff down there and thought maybe I could find someone to help me resupply, give me directions, that kinda thing. I don’t have the energy to power her just now.”
“Is it legal to take a Wind train out of Wind territory?”
“Sure! It’s just a bad idea. Without me along to maintain her she wouldn’t be holding up so well.”
“I see.” He made some notes in the file he’d brought along. He had no idea if there was a central train authority in Wind—though privately he rather thought there wasn’t—but if someone came through asking questions he wanted to be able to answer them. “We may be able to help you,” he said slowly, which is to say he said it at any other dragon’s regular speed. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned about twenty minutes later accompanied by Vinegar, who, though not entirely pleased about the interruption, hid this fact much better than he did; if he hadn’t known her so well he wouldn’t have even suspected anything amiss. Vinegar said, “Good morning, miss…”
“Leocadia’s the name, if you please.”
“Certainly.” Vinegar settled carefully next to the tracks. “If I might ask, Leocadia, what is it that brings you onto our land with another flight’s train to begin with.”
“Ah.” Leocadia looked down. “I, uh, may have gotten in a little bit of trouble back home. Smuggling operation. But you all don’t seem like the kinda clan that’d be bothered by that?” It sounded like a question.
“True,” Vinegar said. “So this train is, in fact, stolen goods.”
“No! She belongs to me, always has. I was hoping to set up shop somewhere with looser regulations,” and here she looked up at the crackling points of the Tempest Spire in the distance, “I wasn’t even planning to stop in these parts, but I kinda ran down. I had to take her with me if I was gonna keep doing my work.”
“Of course.”
Vinegar turned to Eureka, who somewhat exasperatedly gestured his approval. As the most senior member of the clan far too much weight was put on his opinion, at least as far as he was concerned. But he supposed he was technically responsible for this decision.
“I would like to make you an offer, Leocadia,” said Vinegar. “Out here in the canyon we are not so much under the Stormcatcher’s watchful eye. Our numbers are limited and our reach small, and this has sometimes hindered our work. My offer to you is a place to rest and resupply whenever you should need, a place where you will not be judged for your activities, in exchange for your assistance when a need for it should arise.”
Leocadia did…something with her face. The meaning of it was entirely foreign to Eureka, who hadn’t known a lot of Snappers in his time and was already at somewhat of a disadvantage interpreting her craggy features. She said, “Throw in payment per trip. Don’t have to be big, but I can’t have people thinking I work for free.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Deal.” The grin returned. “Now, what kinda vegetarian options you got around here? I have a job waiting for me up Light way.”
