"I'll be cleared up here in a just a moment." Scotti shoved the letter in his jacket pocket. It was Imbrallius, his damnably handsome face peeking through the shutters, smiling in that way that melted the hearts of the stingiest of patrons and the roughest of stonemasons. "What do you have there, Scotti?" asked a voice. Jurus P.S.: Bring a wagenload of timber if you can." Ill be here 2 weeks and you wont be sorrie. Come & meat me at the M'ther Paskos Tavern in Falinnesti, Vallinwood. Now Ive got more business than I can handel, but I need somone with some clout, someone representing a respected agencie to get the quill in the ink. Things have only just calm down, and ther's a lot that needs to be rebuilt. If you have'nt or have been following the politics hear lately, you may or may not know that ther's bin a war between the Boshmer and there neighbors Elswere over the past two years. If your'e smart and want to make lot of extra gold for Lord Atrius (and yourself, ha ha), youll come down to Vallinwood too. "Dear Sckotti, I emagine you alway wondered what happened to me, and the last plase you would have expected to find me is out in the woods. Liodes Jurus, a fellow clerk some years before, who had left the Commission after being accused of unethical business practices. By the poor penmanship, atrocious spelling and grammar, and overall unprofessional tone, it was manifestly evident who the writer was. He handed the boy a gold piece, and opened it up. A fat-faced courier had entered his office and was thrusting forth a sealed scroll. "I have correspondence for Decumus Scotti of the Atrius Building Commission." Probably invent a clerical error, blame it on his old predecessor Decumus Scotti, and require an additional cost to rectify. Scotti wondered idly what the fellow would do with the contracts for the new statue of St Alessia for which the Temple of the One had applied. It would probably be young Imbrallius who would take most of it on, which was as it should be, he considered philosophically. Scotti began the task of organizing all his work to pass on to his successor. "Please have your room cleared immediately." "I'm glad that you understand," smiled the managing clerk, smiling thinly and withdrawing. Unfortunately, that means releasing some of our historically best but presently underachieving senior clerks." "Lord Vanech's men have been giving us a lot of competition lately, and we must be more efficient if we are to survive. "But you know that things have been difficult." "Lord Atrius is perfectly aware of your contributions," said the managing clerk, closing the shutter that demarcated Scotti's office behind him. To be accurate, he could not imagine a world without himself in the Commission. No one could imagine a world without the Commission, least of all Scotti. Energetic and ambitious middle-class lads and ladies worked there, as well as complacent middle-aged ones like Decumus Scotti. It had stood for two hundred and fifty years, since the reign of the Emperor Magnus, a plain-fronted and austere hall on a minor but respectable plaza in the Imperial City. ![]() It seemed as if the palace had always housed the Atrius Building Commission, the company of clerks and estate agents who authored and notarized nearly every construction of any note in the Empire. Scene: The Imperial City, Cyrodiil Date: 7 Frost Fall, 3E 397
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