New Places Old Faces

Lord Elliot stayed in the shadows as he made his way from his shop to the warehouse. He wanted to familiarize himself with multiple routes between the two locations. The more options available the safer he felt. He was excited about the chance to cripple House Venture with his new associates. He cared little for the plight of the Skaa, that would simply be a side note...an after thought of his sweet revenge. As he arrived at the warehouse he noticed Voira's Terrisman entering the building. Elliot smiled as he remembered his family's old Terrisman. He shook his head clearing away the thought's of old and strode into the warehouse. He stares at Dorlin for a moment or two almost in disbelief.

"I ne'er had thought to see you or Lady Voira again, much less under these circumstances. You both seem to be doing well".

Papers rustled as they hit the table. Dorlin spun, his fists coming up to the ready. But they dropped at the sight of the noble. Clearing his voice, the Steward smoothed his robes, placed his hands behind him, and bowed his head in respect.

"Lord...Elliot, I believe? I apologize, my lord, but I can't seem to recall you from before the impromptu meeting. Nor, I'm sad to report, can I remember you from my Mistress' societal circles."

He smiled amiably.

"Forgive me, my Lord. I would not think to infer that you are mistaken, but if such as you say is true, I have never been told of it."

"It must have been 6 years ago in Fadrex, back when the name Calsolite meant something."

He shook his head and waved his hand.

"I shant bore you with details, or of times long gone. I am a changéd man for better or worse. Seeing the two of you simply lit a fire in my heart long dead for 8 months now."

Elliott walked over to the table and sat down stealing a glance at the papers.

"What interest have you in this rebellion?"

The papers were plainly visible, the Steward having merely dropped them to the table. They were maps; specially, maps of Urteau. They didn't seem to be terribly detailed: the streets were crudely sketched, the labels sloppily written. The sheets were scattered, giving Elliot a limited view of several pages. Each seemed to be a separate section of Urteau, and the page concerning the unloading bay of House Venture lay at the top.

The nobleman's question caused Dorlin to furrow his brow.

"I believe we outlined the reasons for our involvement two nights ago. Mine, as you may recall, my Lord, was that House Venture has become far too cruel to its skaa, and subsequently should be brought low."

Elliot nodded.

"Ah. So you did. I was hoping to dig a little deeper if I may. For you see I have been around other Terrisman. My family had one very dear to me. His name was Rahed. Him and the others were not like you. They were soft spoken. Invisible unless a need was present."

He pauses.

"My point being Master Dorlin...why do you feel it's your responsibility to bring about this change?"

A shadow of a smile crossed the Steward's face.

"My Lord, if I might so bold in my presumption, I should ask rather why others do not step forward to right what I believe is a societal faux pas. The nobles are, of course, within their rights to do with the skaa as they please. But certain behaviors are expected."

Dorlin turned to face a rotting pile of abandoned crates and regarded them impassively. The iron bands that had maintained the integrity of each sat loosely upon the wood, the planks having to large degree having dissolved or pulled away with the inevitable passage of time. He gestured to them in his slow, ponderous way.

"The skaa are tools, as I need not remind your Lordship, and tools must be handled properly to to maintain their optimal use. If a tool is unused for any appreciable length of time, it grows rusted or," the Sterward gestured again to the boxes, "rotten. However, if one works a tool too hard, that tool breaks far more quickly than it would have otherwise.

"The skaa are the nobles' tools, correct, my Lord?" His gaze returned to regard Elliot, and his expression was complacent. "Moreover, they are given to them by the Lord Ruler himself. You of course have no need of this reminder. But I make it to make this statement: how would you feel if you, having lent a tool you owned to someone, were to discover that they not only had abused the tool to near worthlessness, and that the lendee's friend's and neighbors were complicit in its mistreatment?"

The question hung in the still air, and Dorlin allowed it to fall heavily upon the nobleman before him.

Elliot looked at the boxes when they were gestured to and then looked back at Dorlin.

"My feeling's would not come close to those of the Lord Ruler. I must admit I am deeply impressed. Your logic is infallible."

He smiled and bowed his head in slight admiration before speaking again.

"Do you think the Mistborn is going to be a problem? From my experience they are untrustworthy and unpredictable. Both of those factors make it rather hard to create a plan that feels safe"

A troubled look fell in the Steward's usually impassive and emotionally restrained face. But the expression vanished as quickly as it had come. He shrugged, the meticulously kept robes creasing as he did.

"I have not had much experience with them, my Lord. My Mistress, and therefore I, spends much of her time in attending balls and other societal functions. There are rumors concerning who might be a Mistborn, of course; there always are. Nor are such rumors strictly kept within noble circles. You observed yourself not two days ago from our skaa employer's lips a rumor that Abelond Venture himself is Mistborn."

Dorlin's eyes watched Elliot, but Elliot had the distinct feeling that they didn't see him.

"Regarding our skaa Mistborn, however, I cannot say I trust her. She showed little enough restraint with her emotions and Allomany. Such behavior could get us killed. No, I certainly don't trust her. But then," he smiled, and a spark of humor flashed within his pupils, "I cannot honestly say I trust any within our cotory yet, save the Lady Voïra."

Elliot hid a smile when he saw the troubled look on Dorlin's face. 

"Save Leena I cannot say I have had any experience with them...my family however had dealings with a Mistborn and that little experience left a large impression."

He sighed as he reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a gold ring. He stared at it for a few moments before setting it on the table. He then looked at the Terrisman and smiled.

"I can't imagine any of us trust one another yet. Only a fool trusts implicitly those he just met. Trust will be necessary though if this plan is to succeed, and trust must begin somewhere. You do not have to trust a man's word to trust his skills. I would offer you my skills to make you a weapon to defend yourself, but judging by what happened the other night you prefer a more hands on approach, or your weapons are cleverly hidden by your robes."

He picked up the gold ring and held it out to Dorlin. A look of sorrow shown upon his face as he did this.

"So instead I offer you this as a gesture of good faith. It belonged to Rahed. He claimed it was a good luck charm, perhaps it will bring you more luck than it brought him. It simply has become far to heavy for me to carry any longer, and I believe he would want it to go to another Terrisman."

"'The other night'? You refer to my outburst, my lord? I would take that moment back if I could; it was wrong of me to lose my restraint not only before you, my lord, but especially before my Mistress. I fear I may have shamed her, though she would never tell me so."

There was a touch of fondness in his bass voice, and his otherwise hard face softened a touch. That look remained as he accepted the ring and examined it.

"Your Terrisman owned this? Than it is valuable indeed, and not just monetarily." Dorlin slipped it on his unadorned hand, moving from finger to finger until the ring found a fit. Finally it did, seating securely upon his right forefinger. He then bowed deeply from his waist. "You honor me, Lord Elliot, in this. My thanks."