Weaving - The Middle of Seven
Bennet’s back twinged as he sat up from his single bed. Would his suffering never end? He’d endured the humiliation of being caught uninvited at the Beast’s Ball, then he’d been forced to spend half a day suffering fools and scraping shit off of Gilligan’s Lift, and now he’d be sore for the entire First Ring. Must all things come in threes? Bennet was beginning to realize what he was. An elven man of tremendous talent, high birth, and poor fortune. A tragic story indeed. If the world would just let him spread his wings, they would see how high he could fly. Why couldn’t they recognize him for what he was? Bennet understood how his family could have missed it. At least now he could. Years spent vying for his father’s approval had taught him that difficult lesson. Being the middle of seven sons, Bennet guessed his father didn’t even know he’d been in Tenzentak for the last 6 years. It was no matter. His father was an important man with a busy schedule. Bennet couldn’t fault him for that.
If anything he should be thanking his father. Even with a business empire to run, he had granted Bennet so many opportunities, like his first-ever job as an apprentice ship inspector. An important role within his family’s shipwrighting enterprise. Bennet was still certain that it couldn’t have been entirely his fault that a fleet of his father’s newly sold vessels all experienced catastrophic sail failures. Besides, those sixty-some men were only stranded at sea for a week at most. It was all blown out of proportion. After that conundrum, his father was kind enough to get him a job with House Empress, working under the High Judge. Bennet thought he made a very good stenographer. However, his superiors quickly tired of his clever in-line-annotations. Apparently, there was no correct way to add things like “sounded guilty” or “wasn’t very convincing” to scribed testimony. So ridiculous. Ah well, leave it to the justice system to be stuck in their old ways. After stenography, Bennet was reassigned to a reliable scribe’s role in the tax department. A more foundational position. Despite having no appointed legislative power, Bennet somehow discovered a loophole where he accidentally exempted incoming ships from paying import tax for an entire week. He thought it was quite the discovery he had managed, but his manager was less enthused. That kerfuffle brought his time under the High Judge to a close.
Bennet’s misfortune amongst House Empress was not a total loss. His wit had been recognized! The High Judge all but paid for him to be sent away to Kerketh Academy. Sponsored by his father, and his Zessgorni house, Bennet was sent packing to become an arcanist. He excelled in this of course. It took no time at all for his peers and even some of his teachers to become jealous of his natural talents. Bennet was such a rising star that a unanimous decision amongst his professors sent him away to the Kerketh Dispatchment of the Blade Hammer Guild. He had hoped to continue his formal education in Tenzentak. However, the guild’s mages were more concerned with the practical application of magic, rather than lecture. But this was not all bad, for Bennet sought a palace to apply his newfound skills.
He was first assigned to work under an overrated master, with whom he argued endlessly. It was a short-lived arrangement, and the disagreements landed him amongst a party of adventuring peers. They were of his same rank, but those buffoons were hardly his equals. After they’d abandoned him inside a set of dangerous ruins, Bennet decided to forge his own path at the guild.
He took any opportunity offered. If it suited him, of course. Bennet engaged in a litany of different practices. Adventuring, security, craftsmanship, construction, clerical work, tutoring, research, communications, and manual labor when things were slow. Bennet became a “jack-of-all-trades”. Unfortunately, growing his resume came with an annoying cost. Bennet didn’t know why, but his assignments often ended in scandal and burnt bridges. It wasn’t Bennet’s fault. His fellow guild members couldn’t handle working with a savant! Few came from noble birth. Sadly, opportunities within the guild were growing thinner these days.
Bennet stood and failed to work the soreness out of his muscles. This would be a problem today as his transgressions at the ball ended with him being unceremoniously removed from his job at The Hall Desk. He’d expected that. The guild wouldn’t want a debonair nobleman’s son who went against the grain to be the face of the guild. Bennet couldn’t blame them. Frankly, he was counting on it. It was proving difficult to deal with a river of needy people every day. What he didn’t expect was to be put on tournament construction duty. Bennet supposed it made sense. Someone had to put the arena back together after each fight, even though this kind of work was beneath him, a spot of charity wasn’t. He would lend a hand where needed. With the missing 1-5 Potentium, the bulk of the meat-headed guild members who’d normally be on construction were likely on security duty. Ah well, at least this way he had good seats to watch the event, and wouldn’t have to think about Old Abby’s fools for a little while.