A Friendship of Necessity (An SG Chosen RP)

[Quibby]

The rather large and extravagant home that his 'ally' was using never ceased to amaze.  Every detail was exact, from the mundane to the magnificent.  There were points where Asmodean felt the urge to stop and simply admire the beauty, allow it time to soak into him, to inspire him.  In his mind, notes had been composing themselves on mental paper since he'd stepped into the building, loud enough to nearly overpower the more subtle music that was his own thoughts.  Asmodean had always suspected that that music, that sense of harmony in his mind, was the reason why he had always been a more capable governor than general.  Battles were about dissonance, about breaking.  Governing was more of a balancing act, more about maintaining a harmony.  It made sense to him.

 

Ever since his arrival in Seanchan, Asmodean had been busy.  Common in his day were tales of rags-to-riches men and women, people who worked, sweat and sacrificed their way to the top to live happily ever after.  He himself had once been commissioned to write the musical score for an adaptation.  These stories were the basis for Asmodean's plan to rise in Seanchan society.  Well, that and a little bit of 'luck'.  His rise had started with the unfortunate death by slow roasting of the former court bard of a low-level Blood family.  Their son, a man-about-the-town, had stumbled across a replacement a few days later in one of his favorite taverns, a simple gleeman whose songs were summoning laughter and tears and, above all, applause.  The boy was utterly entranced by the man's playing, and he'd brought him home that very night to play for his father.  After countless hours playing for Lord Derleth, the gleeman found a permanent place as the court bard.

 

Shortly after this, Derleth's family began to experience a change in fortunes.  A rival family collapsed into disgrace and financial ruin, eventually being sold like animals on an auction block themselves.  Derleth happily took advantage of the situation, more than doubling his area of influence.  His bard showed an odd grasp of politics and governing, suggesting things that Lord Derleth would never have thought of, and this began a steady increase of Derleth's wealth.  One of Derleth's allies, another of the Blood, perished with his entire family in a house fire, leaving ruin in his district.  At his bard's suggestion, Derleth fronted the money to rebuild the other damages done by the fire, thus buying the loyalty of men who had been loyal to a dead lord.  Derleth's rise to prominence and rank among the Blood was astounding, landing him in the upper tiers of the wealthy, giving him and his bard access to personal invitations from the ruling family.

 

Asmodean was right where he wanted to be.

 

With a start, Asmodean realized that he was late.  A hurried walk through the halls of the manor house brought him to the door of Graendal's private sanctum.  Asmodean always dressed for the occasion, and today's meeting saw him in elegant silks, an ebony harp hanging from a shoulder strap on his back.  "The High Lady summoned me," he said, bowing slightly to the man at the door.  "Could you tell her that the court bard Jaros Nameros is here to see her?"