RP:A Halfling Too Big for His Britches
Summary: Zedidiah Gawkroger of Gawkroger Shipping Company and Gawkroger Animal Feed noticed an indiscretion in his accounts: the Larketian fort canceled its monthly order for dog food. Not willing to lose such a large account, he schedules a meeting with the fort kennel master. Hearing of a halfling (!!!!!) on the premises, Queen Josleen meets Zedidiah and the two Xalious natives quickly bond over their common roots. As they negotiate the next order of dog food and discuss Gigi's puzzling weight gain (a curse?! [nah]), Josleen tells Zedidiah of her plans to build an arborium in Larket. She needs to import rare and exotic plants from abroad, none more exotic than the jade wisp fern, whose export is highly controlled by the government of that territory. Could Zedidiah be of any help? His lips say yes, but his stomach flips over and smothers the truth: no. Having bit more than he can chew, Zedidiah leaves with a problem on his hands.
Knight's Training Yard, Fort Freedom
Zedidiah strolls into the training field the way he imagines a general would, chin held high, stomach sucked in (relatively, he's still quite noticeably rounder about the middle than your standard field commander) shoulders thrown back to show off the full height of his two foot seven frame. The only outward indication that he is thoroughly intimidated by the looming parapets and bustling soldiery is the way he keeps fiddling with the clasp holding his velvet cloak in place.
The kennel master is in the training pen with a german shepherd puppy who simply refuses to understand “Heel!” The lovable pup follows every time. But the master is not deterred, as his patience is boundless and skill unparalleled (how else do you get hired by monarchs?). Still, when he sees the halfling approach, his face falls. His patience extends no further than dog training, and this halfling (and he expected a halfling by the name alone) has come begging his patience for matters of coin and minutiae. The kennel master agreed to the meeting because the letter was so eloquent and persuasive he felt wrong to refuse to meet the merchant, but he regrets his weakness now. As he exits the pen he puts on a brave face and a stiff smile. “Baldrick Oliver,” he says while extending a hand downward for the short fellow. Once introductions have been exchanged and hands shaken, he admits regretfully, “I regret your traveling all this way as I am unsure of what I could do for you.” Behind him large kennel cages are lined in two rows inside a wooden structure with three walls and triangular roof. On one of the walls hangs dog portraits, mostly heroic dogs who saved lives, with their names etched in bronze beneath. Among the shepherds, bloodhounds, and mastiffs is a lone frou frou, sleek, athletic poodle standing tall on highest platform labeled ‘Best in Show.’
Zedidiah rises briefly to tip toes to clasp Baldrick's hand, or at least most of his fingers. "A pleasure to meet face to face, my dear man. As you've no doubt ascertained, I am Zedidiah Gawkroger, of the Gawkroger Shipping Company and, most relevantly, Gawkroger Animal Feed. I suppose though, the question isn't what you can do for me, but rather what I can do for you." He clears his throat and looks meaningfully down the line of kennels. "I trust these animals still have appetites, yes? And I noticed an error that would leave them unfed. You understand for my most valued clients, I offer this personal attention." More like VALUABLE clients, as the halfling slips his thumb under his suspenders, silver lines gleaming along his colorful little suit, down to the hair on his bare feet which is clearly freshly styled. The only thing out of place on his sleek (except the belly) attire are the gaudy jeweled dagger sheaths crossed behind his hips.
Baldrick shakes his head sympathetically to Zedidiah’s plight. “I appreciate the personal attention and all that, but there’s still not much I can say. You’ll have to take it up with Her Majesty herself. Wasn’t me that canceled the order, but she, and I don’t reckon it right for me to speculate why,” he says with a sly sideways nod of his head towards the poodle portrait. That’s all the speculation Zedidiah should need, but Baldrick knows better than to gossip about his employer. Suddenly Baldrick’s eyes widen at something over Zedidiah’s head. “Well I’ll be.” It’s a lucky thing Zedidiah brushed his foot hairs today, for the Queen herself crosses the training yard in a dress whose retail value after shredding could still feed this entire kennel for a year. She hikes up the hem to the ankle with one hand, the other snapping at Gigi, a fat waddling poodle whose hairstyle and collar strongly resembles the dashing poodle in the portrait. “Gigi, drop it!” she reprimands the dog who freezes, cat turd still in his mouth, weighing his options. Is this morsel worth the consequence of disobedience aka a harsh tone and look of disapproval? He decides that for the time being it is not, and drops the poop and chases after Josleen who turns now to Zedidiah and Baldrick, beaming for no apparent reason. “Oh what a surprise!” There is no surprise here. “I didn’t know you had a guest, Baldrick.” She did know, and she looks expectantly to Zedidiah, her smile still maniacally brightening her face. It’s possible Zedidiah knew of her back at the village, and had even seen her before at harvest festivals and during her tavern performances. She’s the daughter of a renowned Xalious scholar and word spread fast that she had married the King of Larket months ago. She seems to vaguely recognize him too, Xalious being so small, but she can’t place a name to the face and decides it best to avoid the faux pas by guessing at it. Gigi greets the halfling as well, his plump body wiggling with excitement all over as he sniffs Zedidiah’s hands and tries to lick them with the same tongue that so recently tasted cat poop.
Zedidiah starts to work up the steam that will lead to eventually wearing down Baldrick's defenses and selling some darned dog food, when suddenly a monarch appears! An apologetic glance is spared for Baldrick, but as the man himself said, Zedidiah's business appears to be with the queen. A queen who only just the other year he saw performing in one of his home town's taverns. He sweeps back his cloak and slides into a bow, "Jo- Your Majesty! What a pleasure to..." The dog isn't stopping. Zedidiah's eyes begin to scream in terror and disgust while he fixes a rictus smile onto his face, planting his hands on Gigi's shoulders to look like he's giving pets while fending the animal off. Which is a poor decision, as it leaves the halfling's face at prime tongue height, a fact which Gigi surely can't but help and capitalize on. Blustering madly and pretending to be delighted he finally manages to force Gigi's head to one side, where he no doubt gets crotch and or butt sniffed. "What an unexpected delight! Zedidiah Gawkroger, at your service. I regret I was unable to attend your recent nuptials, but extend my congratulations." Of course, he wasn't invited in the first place.
Josleen‘s eyes light up with recognition at the surname. “Of course, of Gawkroger Shipping Company and Animal Feed. --Gigi!” She chastises her dog again, but he doesn’t stop. “I’m sorry about him, he’s very affectionate.” He dons a powder blue silk bowtie, no less, as the Prince Pooch. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe a Gawkroger married an Applebottom. Wulfram Applebottom. My family has long been acquainted with the Applebottoms, though I regret that I missed dear Wulfram’s nuptials to the lovely Pansy Gawkroger. A relation of yours, yes?” After Zedidiah answers, she asks, “And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” She already knows, but these sort of engagements follow a pattern and she’s always been an adherent to decorum.
Zedidiah , in the midst of the horror he's currently experiencing, does have a moment of clarity where he's able to appreciate Gigi's bowtie, which is actually quite fetching. Then it's back to wrestling the hound away from his sensitive bits while pretending to be delighted with the attention. "Ahh yes, cousin Pansy! The wedding was lovely and she seems quite happy. I'm not afraid to say I'm glad to have the Applebottoms as customers of Gawkroger Fertilizer and Farm Goods." A subsidiary of Gawkroger Sanitation. With Gawkroger Sanitation consisting of a few men with a cart, and some shovels, while the fertilizer company consisting of the same men, the same cart, the same shovels, and cleaner uniforms. "As for today, it seems due to an oversight, we didn't receive the order for the monthly needs of Baldrick's wonderful wards, nor for this Champion, who I believe I do recognize from his portrait." Gigi gets another 'stay away from my face' pet. "I wouldn't want to see them receiving anything less than the best of care, and I thought, for the Queen of Larket? A daughter of Xalious village? Best go down myself to make sure they're taken care of.”
Josleen is utterly charmed by this folksy reminder of home, and being called a ‘daughter of Xalious.’ And by a halfling no less! Oh the halfling folk, they’re just better than the rest, in Josleen’s opinion, for they are hardworking, but know how to balance home and work, know how to enjoy a good party without devolving into base recreations, share a good sense of humor and fondness for all things green, just like she. “Well I do appreciate you making the trip, though I am embarrassed to admit it was no oversight.” Baldrick takes note of Zedidiah’s discomfort and picks up a toy bone. “Here, Gigi boy.” Gigi immediately trots over to Baldrick for a game of fetch. Baldrick throws the bone far, Gigi gives chase, brings it back, and is immediately exhausted, poor fatty. Panting, he lies down at Josleen’s feet. “As you may have noticed, Gigi’s cutting a large figure these days than he cuts in that there portrait. I worried the feed may be responsible for the weight gain.” Mysteriously, all the other kennel dogs are still trim and hale. “Gosh, it sure is hot. Why don’t we move inside to my office?” She waves goodbye to Baldrick, who bows as she departs. Gigi slowly waddles left and right until he is standing then follows the Queen and halfling on their way inside, the pair chatting, Josleen happiest of all for this reminder of home.
Zedidiah does take note of the contrast between Gigi's proud, some might say halfling-esque, proportions in contrast to the lean and hearty wards of Baldrick. He dips his head politely, thumbs slipping back under his suspenders, and allowing his round little tum a bit more breathing room now that he isn't trying to impress soldiers. He rolls his tongue around his mouth as he falls into step with the Queen, weighing his options. "Well, I'm glad I came to talk to you then. You see, we're bringing out a new line of dog food, for the health conscious. It's farm to table, ingredients grown on the same plots my very own meals come from." Technically true. The roughage and unsavory bits are produced from the same farms that eventually produce bacon and potatoes. "Although... and forgive me, Your Majesty, if I overstep. But I know the affairs of state must occupy much of your thoughts. I can scarcely extrapolate from managing my simple businesses to your proud nation, and I know how busy I am kept. However..." Zed ponders how much to risk on this contract, then looks up toward Josleen with his most down-home, gormless smile. "I noticed Baldrick's hounds seem to be doing quite well on the current diet. Perhaps Gigi is merely more regal, and requires a finer feed. Or..." He let's the or hang in the air.
Queen's Tea Room
Josleen‘s interest is piqued by farm-to-table dogfood. Sounds expensive, and the best, which is what her precious pooch deserves. She nods agreement with his assessment that Gigi is more regal. “Yes, and he is quite sensitive. His stomach upsets easily.” Does it? He was just eating cat poop. “...Or what? I have instructed the castle staff not to sneak him any more table scraps.” But she can’t possibly watch her staff all the time, and indeed they do feed him table scraps liberally, all the time, behind her back. When the halfling pulls on his suspenders, Josleen suppresses a ‘squee,’ her eyes ‘squee’ instead. The Queen leads Zedidiah to a tea parlor that she uses as an office. It is set across the hall from the King’s office. His door is open and Zedidiah can sneak a peek at the King in his infamous dark armor sitting behind a black, wooden desk conversing with a general. The office features dark wood with marble accents (this is the Hard City after all, famously built of high quality marble from local quarries). The King’s office is sparsely decorated, belieing little of the man personally. Josleen’s ‘office’ sharply contrasts that of her husband’s. Instead of a desk there is a crushed velvet chaise set before a golden coffee table and a plush deep purple (nearly black) loveseat set across the table from the chaise. Floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows and tapestries, embossed gilded wallpaper, flawless marble floors, a silver tea caddy with a fine porcelain tea set upon it, all lends the room a feminine and luxurious (on the verge of gaudy) air. To the right of the entrance is a 10 foot tall portrait of King Macon and Queen Josleen holding hands, the king in his imposing dark armor, the Queen in her finest gown, and between them on the floor a trim looking Gigi. The real Gigi trots ahead and curls up in a gold-threaded dog bed placed beneath the portrait. The Queen sits on her chaise and invites Zedidiah to sit on the loveseat. “Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? Something stiffer?” Open on the coffee table is blueprints for a massive arborium and a list of exotic, foreign plants that need to be bought and imported. “Have you a green thumb?” Most halflings do, and so she assumes he must too. She gestures for Zedidiah to flip through the greenhouse plans at his pleasure. The dome-shaped arborium has four separate climate zones: desert, temperate forest, arctic tundra, and rainforest. “A storm mage has been hired to design the climate controls. But you came here to speak on something else. Tell me more about the dog food. Are the ingredients grown in Xalious?”
Zedidiah clears his throat as his only answer to the Queen's 'or what?' query, assuming the walls have ears. Instead he prattles on about life back in Xalious for a few moments, straining to recollect the gossip overheard from his employees, before simply giving up, making up new plausible gossip, and simply framing it all as rumor. Zed spends a long moment after arriving in the Queen's chamber simply resting his hand on the loveseat. Finally he clammors up on it and smiles. "The decor in here is lovely, you have excellent taste for fineries. Tea would be lovely, thank you." Which in Zedidiah's opinion, means tea, light sandwiches, a few pastries, and a few more pastries. He peruses the blueprints like a good sport, adding. "Well I have my little garden," False. "But I like to say I have a gold thumb instead." Others have called his thumb brown, due to the historical prime export of Gawkroger Shipping. He smiles kindly over to Josleen, glad the conversation is back to business, "Oh yes, my team rigorously selects ingredients from local farms in order to give our noble four legged friends meals as nutritious and healthful as we could wish for them. And you must know, Xalious soil gives rise to the very crops that feed the brightest minds of the mage guild. If it's good enough for them, it's good enough for our pups, I say. I would certainly recommend moving at least Gigi onto this more refined diet, which offers many benefits including fuller coat, improved heart health, more energy, and just superior quality of life." He nods, making a note to remember to make new packages for the dog food when he gets back. "Although, as I said before, it is odd that only Gigi is affected so. And if you've already addressed mundane causes, perhaps it is worth considering this might be a targeted attack? Someone purposely causing the royal canine, a champion, to fall into ill health?"
Josleen smiles at Zedidiah’s compliment of her decor as she signals for a servant to step forward. She is aware that halflings regard tea as a small feast, and puts in the order for pastries and a few small savory sandwiches. Before the servant leaves she adds, “Oh and could you bring some lettuce for Gigi? He seems anxious.” Then turning to Zedidiah she explains, “He’s a very anxious dog and chewing on lettuce helps with his anxiety.” She’s receptive to the pitch and about to inquire after the price when suddenly Zedidiah suggests conspiracy, and to a moderately superstitious woman who has in recent months had good reason to be cautiously paranoid. “Really…” she gasps. “You know, I hadn’t considered it, but there was some grumbling at the last dog show about his win.” Indeed, because no judge in his right mind would vote against the Queen’s dog. “Jealousy? Or perhaps something even more sinister… you’ve heard about the trouble we’ve been having with witches?” She purses her lips. “They’re quite quick to hex, aren’t they? Thank you, I’ll have one of our mages look into the matter. Have you seen this before, in your line of work? Sabotage of champion dogs?”
Zedidiah nods seriously, because this is a serious concern that he takes very seriously. Gigi's anxiety? Very serious, you can tell by how wrinkled his little bow gets, and the little teepee his fingers make under his chin. "I'll inquire with my nutrition experts," the guys who shove animal feed in the bags, "About something for anxiety. Just for Gigi, the champion. No extra charge, just a favor between neighbors, as it were." He frowns more deeply. Witches, making a dog gain weight? Very serious! "I don't know from witchery, but I do know the proper practice of magic is in established and hallowed institutions, like the guild of your own dear father, and not just laying curses willy nilly." In his line of work, import/export of sewage and, recently, dog food, has he seen much of the darker side of dog shows? "Unfortunately, a story like this is all too common. Jealousy and inability inspire the lesser folk to lash out against their betters. Whether the source is witchcraft or mundane I wouldn't hazard a guess. I can promise my own supply lines will be thoroughly investigated, but since the other hounds are faring well I think any adulteration must be occurring on this end."
Were anyone else uttering Zedidiah’s oily obsequiousness, Josleen would be en guarde for deceit, but coming from the lips of a halfling, a member of that race Josleen considers too noble to be capable of deceit (even the burglars), the Queen is disarmed and willing to believe that he a. cares about Gigi’s anxiety, b. has strong views on the proper practice of magic, and c. knows about the witch drama plaguing Larket and is on the side of the Royals. She nods at his conclusion and inquires after the price of the superior dog food, then puts in monthly subscription for the entire castle. “The kennel should enjoy better feed as well,” she declares as if she just agreed to feed orphans in Gualon’s swamp. Shifting gears she says, “Does Gawkroger Shipping Company take on any special orders? You see, I’ve yet to find a trustworthy merchant versed in flora transport and foreign customs to help me import some of these rarer specimens.” She points at the list of flora yet-to-be sourced. “Have you transported live plants across oceans, or know someone who could do this without damaging the fragile plantlife? I’d appreciate being pointed in the right direction.”
Zedidiah nods and graciously accepts Josleen's willingness to continue giving him money. He prefers to think it is due to his shrewd words rather than his delightful stature. He draws in a deep breath as he peruses the list of flora. Has he, the poop merchant of Xalious, significant experience transporting live plants across oceans? "I do believe I can be of assistance, yes. Foreign customs, the care and maintenence of plant life? Why, I can hardly think of anyone more qualified." Other than literally anyone."Gawkroger Shipping could certainly assist you in a special endeavor. I'll take a personal interest."
Once again Zedidiah is aided by the accident of his birth as the Queen does not cross examine him any further on his talents and ability. He’s a halfling, of course he’s good with plants. “I’m happy to hear there. This plant in particular,” she taps a name on the list, it reads ‘jade wisp fern’, “Is endemic to a rainforest across the western ocean. The government there highly controls its cultivation and exports are prohibited except under very special permissions. It’s rare and has strong medicinal uses, and it’s magical properties are only just being understood by some of the greatest minds of our day, including my father. So I would very much like to possess one, but unfortunately the permission to take a plant for academic purposes has a 10 year waiting list and they don’t let monarchs jump the line, if you could believe that! There must be some other way to secure the plant. I’ve asked the castle legal minds to look into it, but they hardly understand trade laws. I am sure your legal team would be better suited and steeped in this literature?”
Zedidiah nods slowly, drawing careful measured breaths. He is doing his best to reconcile Josleen, the small town bard, with the Queen of Larket, and bearing in mind that while Queens have deeper pockets, they can also have people executed. "You know, the Jade Wisp Fern rings a bell to me my mind. I will need to double check with my record keepers," a notebook in his office, "and my legal team," his good luck, "But we might already be engaged in shipping one for another customer. I'm sure I could persuade them to wait for the next, while I divert this to an esteemed monarch in dire need. Not sure offhand where in the permit process we are precisely. But this does not seem a difficult endeavor."
No, Zedidiah, you have tipped your hand. Really? You’re already shipping one? This is such a snake oil salesman tactic that for Josleen to-- “Oh really!” she exclaims delightedly. “May I know who the other buyer is? Inquire with them, and if you need me to write to them to persuade them, I will happily do so!” Is anything a Queen does persuasion, and not an order? “What lucky! Almost seems too good to be true.” Almost, eh? “Oh I am glad you did visit today.” At some point during Zedidiah’s careful pitch the tea and pastries were set out. Josleen selects a tiny quiche for herself and digs in. “I have an appointment soon, but if you have a few minutes to spare I’ll show you the arborium plan.” Aka drone on about a project Zedidiah must pretend to be interested in. Josleen is very, very passionate about it, having inherited some of her father’s interest in the natural world. The few minutes stretch long, the appointment delayed so that the Queen may further beguile this halfling with plants, his favorite.
Zedidiah tucks into those pastries with the fervor of a man who is in over his head. It might be his last meal, as he very delicately establishes buffers on his overpromising. "As I say, the name tickled my mind...these are delicious, by the way. I'll check with my records keeper. In any event, I'm certain I can have it by the time the aborium is ready to receive it." Then he pretends to be interested in plants, and is exceedingly interested in sandwiches, until it is time to go.