Supply & Demand (tag Peter Galvin)

[Lady Grace]

The roast chicken with garlic smelled absolutely wonderful, but the past few weeks had sadly dulled Annie's appetite for any poultry dishes. Fortunately, the braised oxtails with chorizo were a delicious enough substitute to satisfy the Vendel's hunger instead. The remains of said dish had been pushed aside finally as Annie now looked down at an empty sheet of parchment, face curled into a frown of frustration.

She knew the what of what she wanted to say, of course. But there was still that gnawing sense of doubt in the back of her head. That, no matter how polite and tactful she worded her request, the Guild Master would relegate it to some forgotten corner of a desk drawer, buried like one of the Professor's so many notes and thinking it some minor squabble between visiting foreigners. Indeed, some small part of Annie did agree with that potential assessment. It angered her that she had allowed herself to be manipulated by that odious lout at the docks, thereby entangling herself into that race. But that was in the past and at least her being there was of some use. She shuddered to think what would have happened to the children -- again -- if she hadn't gotten them to safety (again). Such things were apparently beneath that buffoon's grandstanding.

No, it hadn't reached the point that personal honour needed to be avenged. For now, Annie had no desire to feed that glutton's ego by having him think he was actually worthy or important enough for a duel. However, much like a pimple on the buttocks, this would continue to irritate the Vendel unless she could avail herself of the necessary remedy. But getting such a mental balm here in Altamira could potentially take months -- even years! And that's if she (and the cretin) stayed here. What if she had to travel to Luthon or Carleon on behalf of her aunt's interests? She had to prepare herself just in case before it came to that.

Then Annie's thoughts suddenly shifted, recalling a talk she had had with Aunt Trudie a couple of weeks before she left for Altamira. Trudie had unveiled to her an interesting piece of jewelry, a gold chain with baubles of aquamarine and old Numan coins that, rather than the neck or wrist, would be fastened around one's boot. It struck Annie as being wildly impractical, but a proud Trudie bragged that, thanks to a few well-heeled connections with Mode du Lac, the Montaigne were already clamoring for her boot chains to wear for the latest balls in Charouse.

"And how many have you made?"

"Just the one."

"Only one?"

"My dear girl, supply is irrelevant. I can have a surplus waiting in months if needed. Ah, but creating the demand in the first place...that's what separates the sharks from the minnows!"

One foreigner asking about learning a little about a specific Avalon sword school while in Altamira? Not worth it. But if others -- especially the native residents -- started to feel the need to protect themselves from a certain mad Inishman's use of Donovan as well, why, the Guildhouse might put in an invite for such a master to come visit and teach itself rather than waiting and waiting for one to arrive on his or her own (and whether they'd be willing to teach then was an entirely new problem in of itself). Such a demand just needed the right sort of...encouragement.

A small smile crept across Annie's face. It was time to talk to Mister Galvin.

[crimsonjoe]

Peter Galvin was in his usual location- a small table in back of the Dos Caballeros y Doncellas. He had finished two hours and regaling the locals with some tunes and a few stories. The crowd tonight was more merchant-class, so he did not use some of the bawdier tales that were more reserved for when ship crews came by Eladio's place.

At the moment, he was busy checking the strings on his lute when Annie Sigurd entered. Peter gave her a small bow and waved at the Vest- Vendel.

"A pleasant evening to you, Miss Sigurd. And how are things in the pursuit of dubloons and guilders?"

Peter was polite. Besides the fact that Annie and him had been on several adventures together- the race, and the incident with the lantern and the other incident with the lantern- and had bonded over that. And Peter's three sisters would have smacked him upside the head for being impolite to a lady.

Plus there was the face that Annie Sigurd could probably break Peter in half. He'd seen her use her axe to scare off a dozen of Altamira's less savory characters, and, while Peter was no genius, he was smart enough not to cross the rather large Veste- VENDEL bodyguard.

[Lady Grace]

"Oh, it goes, Mister Galvin, it goes. I was hoping to catch up with Mister Tiwiliger on that front, but I've not seen him since our last...trek...to the apothecary." Though Annie was speaking quietly and in Peter's native Avalon. she was still careful to couch what she was saying in case the wrong people had ears around here. "I do hope he's alright."

Peter's countryman was an unabashed greedy bastard (not that there was anything wrong with that, at least in Annie's mind), but the liquor merchant had shown shrewd business sense and he was a potential contact worth keeping an eye on, especially for her aunt's prospective interests. But for now, Annie could wait on that. Now, it was time to pursue her interests.

"May I buy you a drink?" Annie smiled warmly -- well, at least as warmly as she could pass for. She nodded in the general direction towards the locals. "You seemed to have drawn a good crowd tonight. And I think I even heard one of your songs being sung by the tamale seller this afternoon! You definitely know how to work a tune, Mister Galvin, yes, you do..."

She finally pulled up a chair and sat down at his table. Then she idly rubbed her chin, eying the Avalon carefully. "Tell me, Mister Galvin, the people we traveled to Altamira with. Not to mention the people we worked with during that whole business with the Professor and over at the docks...what was your opinion of them overall? I know Mister Tiwiliger is a fellow Avalon, but did you know him beforehand? Or that Inishman..." And here Peter could see a distinct twitch in the Vendel's face that the young woman couldn't quite mask. "...O'Neal?"

[crimsonjoe]

This was no friendly chat

Well, Annie was a Vendel- always playing for an angle. In that way, she was very like Mr. Twilliger. But she had always been square with Peter, and deserved a truthful answer.

"I've never met either of the two gents before coming to Castille and meeting them with you on the coach." Peter began, idly testing his lute. "Lionel seems to be from a much bigger city than me- perhaps Cardican itself. He's a cunning one- always has the big picture in mind. But he always treated me fair."

"As for O'Neal..." Peter blinked, practically feeling the air get colder from Annie. "Well... he's an Inishman." Peter said, shrugging, hoping that would explain everything.

From the look on Annie's face, he could tell that it didn't. So he explained further. "He wears his emotions on his sleeves. Something bothers him, he'll get in your face about it. When the times call for brute force, he gives you agressiveness. When the times call for diplomacy... he gives you aggressiveness. He's a little more blunt than most Inishmen, but it does seem to be a quirk in all of their bloodlines."

[Lady Grace]

"I seem to recall hearing that Inismore had to deal with Vesten raiders in its history -- and that more than a few of them stayed around to spread their seed," Annie scowled. "It would explain a lot."

The young woman shook her head and shrugged. The response Peter had given her wasn't discouraging at least. Part of her worried that the Avalon would have admitted being a boon drinking companion to the Inishman. That could have been problematic. Still, she wracked her brains for the best way to approach this just in case.

"I'll be honest with you, Mister Galvin...a man like O'Neal casts a bad light towards our profession -- Swordsmen. Especially when coupled with being foreigners in this city. The natives see an undiplomatic, undisciplined foreigner wearing the pin causing a ruckus and suddenly the rest of us foreigner visitors have trouble getting any work," Annie tapped her own pin, trying to soften her frown. She sighed. "I wish Mister Haynes had stayed around instead after we all arrived in town."

She shrugged again. "It didn't help being seen in O'Neal's company these past few weeks. Drawn into all sorts of trouble due to his big mouth. Thank Theus it all worked out for the best for the most part, but who's to say what sort of complications it may have caused in the long run? By just being acquainted with the man..." The Vendel shook her head, now looking concerned. "Keeping physical distance away from him is one thing, but social distance could be very useful right about now." She paused and looked right at Peter, then at his lute. "Do you understand the gist of what I'm saying?"

[crimsonjoe]

Peter paused in the middle of tightening a string. He glanced around the room before returning to look at Annie.

Annie- like Lionel- was playing a game, and Peter was finding himself a pawn in it. Not that he didn't like Annie. But Annie thought on much deeper layers that Peter ever bothered to- and Peter wondered if he was going to get caught in a trap no matter what he said or did.

With that being said- nothing Annie said wasn't true. Already, Mr. O'Neal had garnered a reputation- and even Peter was feeling some of the fallout.

Still, he chose his next words carefully.

"A man like Mister O'Neal- he's like a tornado. There's a lot of damage in all directions whenever he touches down. So shielding yourself from that- that's a wise move, Annie. But I'm merely a singer of songs and a teller of tales, Annie. I'm not sure how a man like me can help you."

[Lady Grace]

"But you sing those songs and tell those tales quite well, Mister Galvin," Annie said, in honest acknowledgement. She didn't have her aunt's gift in subtle glibness or diplomacy yet. Not that she wanted to risk sounding false around the entertainer, but the Vendel wished she was better at delicate conversation and flattery. It was something Aunt Trudie had been trying to teach her in. Sometimes, it wasn't appropriate for a bodyguard to be intimidating all the time.

Diplomacy. Another thing O'Neal didn't have -- and another aspect she had to improve on then.

Perhaps the direct approach was needed here. "You may have gathered that I'm not particularly..." Annie paused, trying to find the appropriate word. The last thing she wanted to do was give Peter the wrong impression about the situation. "...comfortable with how the Inishman presents himself. Abrasive, impulsive, yet also loud and egotistical -- all that makes for a dangerous combination to anyone needing to interact with a Swordsman. The way he bragged about that debacle with the bull makes it seem like he took on an entire herd! To say nothing of those two children he put at risk by performing foolish stunts with that little shield of his rather than actually saving them..."

Annie paused again, taking a moment to rein in her rising anger. Her expression softened to one more of frustration and worry. "That song of yours, Mister Galvin. The one about Carlos...the people here like that one. Funny, catchy...it's already spread to all four corners of Altamira -- from the ranchos to the docks to the taverns and shops! It cut that bastard deservedly down to size!" The Vendel looked at him, smiling in what was a hopeful manner. "...might I perhaps entreat you to give a certain Inish Swordsman the same lyrical treatment? Maybe to serve as a humourous warning to the locals and visitors alike? And perhaps knock the wind out of his sails for a much-needed bit..."

[crimsonjoe]

Peter listened to Annie's suggestion with an open ear and a watchful eye. The hairs on the back of Peter's neck were starting to twitch.

The bodyguard made sense. O'Neal could be reckless. And for that very reason, Peter did NOT want to make another song like the one about Carlos. The last thing he wanted was to get in the sights of the impulsive Inishman.

Of course, being in the sites of an angry Vesten warrior woman- one who could wield an axe that was almost as large as Peter- didn't appeal to him either.

So he took his time to finish tuning his mandolin, and had another beer. While drinking, Peter knew he couldn't say anything that would get him in trouble.

Of course, soon his ale was finished, and he still needed to say something.

"Annie." Peter said. "The song with Carlos is insulting and provocative. But I'm not worried about Carlos. He is a pig who likes to whip unarmed children. I don't claim to be a warrior, but even I'm not worried about that worthless smelly barnacle of a man."

"O'Neal... he's a proud man. If a song went around mocking him, he'd go directly to the source and challenge him to a fight. And I've seen the man in a fight, Annie. It's not something I want to experience myself."

But as Peter spoke, an idea started forming in his mind- an idea that could ideally please the Vesten Warrior and not anger the Inish Warrior.

"In fact... let me ask you this. The song about Carlos is meant to make people laugh at him, because he is someone that deserves to be laughed at. Do you want people to laugh at Mr. O'Neal?"

[Lady Grace]

What kind of question is that? Of course, I want him laughed at...I want him mocked and utterly humiliated! I want--! The spark of anger threatened to fan back into a full fire in Annie's thoughts and she very nearly overlooked the very real threat to Peter that he was trying to bring up from O'Neal should he go in that direction. But I could step in and defend him if needed...

Then it finally dawned on the Vendel what the entertainer was trying to get across.

...without the training. Without the natives -- and more importantly the Guild -- seeing that Inish buffoon as a threat, I don't get any chance at getting that training. If he's seen as the fool and the clown he really is, no one would see him as the danger he can be as well.

She looked over at Peter, a newfound respect now in her eyes for the man's craft. If they were on the same page here...

"You have a different approach, don't you?" she asked quietly.

[crimsonjoe]

"I think that Mister O'Neal has gone out of his way to establish that he is a dangerous, brave man willing to fight and defend his honor. And, as someone who has fought with him, I believe he would be pleased if we spread the message about how dangerous Mister O'Neal is." Peter played a few notes on the mandolin, satsified with the tune.

"After all, Altamira is full of people who have their pride and are prone to violence. If they discover just how powerful Mister O'Neal is, it would make them realize that they would clearly be outclassed going against Mr. O'Neal. And surely they would stop their prideful and violent ways, less they catch the attention of Mister O'Neal."

Peter tapped the back of the Mandolin as a good luck charm. "After all, what other choice would they have?"

[Lady Grace]

"Hrrm..." Annie drummed her fingers lightly on the table. Her own pride hated the idea of feeding the Inish pig's ego, but she was slowly seeing Peter's idea. Indeed, in her time in Altamira, Annie had observed how proud the Castillians were in their own right -- especially their Swordsman. With some amusement, the Vendel bodyguard recalled that one strutting peacock (a practioner of Soldano) she (thankfully) briefly had to deal with who whined ungratefully at Annie when she intimidated a pack of thugs into running away from them without the need for bloodshed. The fact that said thugs had seen her as the main threat and were already ignoring the Soldano apparently didn't dawn on his tiny mind.

And Annie remembered that, as much as the Guild would try otherwise, Castillians had a tendency to take matters into their own hands when their pride ran hot -- with or without Guild approval. Back alley duels were not uncommon here. Hearing a tune about a certain wild and dangerously skilled Inish Swordsman would certainly try anyone's patience. Why, any Castillian might be tempted to test steel with such a challenge at stake.

Any? Many.

This...this has potential....

"Really, you'd be doing the people of Altamira a service by warning then about how dangerous and chaotic a 'hero' like O'Neal is. All that Castillian blood shed by his hands, all those Castillian black eyes dealt by his buckler. They couldn't say they weren't told..."

And then, hopefully, the more pragmatic Swordsmen would want to ask for training in Donovan as well. There would finally be the demand!

There was a chance that this could all backfire. That the idiot would luck into winning any fight presented to him and actually have his prestige grow. But Annie had to take the risk for her own sanity's sake.

[crimsonjoe]

"Indeed," Peter said. "In fact, I..."

Peter paused as a group of Castillian manor workers entered Dos Caballeros. One of the cleaning girls- Esmerelda- gave a small wave and a smile at Peter as they walked over to the large table in the back. Peter broke out into a wide grin.

"Annie... give me a couple days. I think I have an idea, but I need time to work out the details. Let's meet back in three nights and see how this song plays out. Now, if you'll excuse me..." Peter stood up and picked up his mandolin, "I have guests to entertain."

================================================

It was near closing time when Annie finally had time to go back to the bar. It was a slow- the serving wenches were already cleaning up- and Peter sat in a chair by the dying embers of the fire and began singing a slow tune:

# He walked into Castille without a single fear
With his buckler and sword by his side
He knew that he had no peer
He ate the finest chicken and drank the greatest beer
And all the men thought they could duel him
Could duel him, but... #

# He's so good, he blocked every blade that came at him
He's so good, He's the best in Altamira
The best... the best... the best... #

# The Inishman spotted a bull, waltzing down the street
He said that this could not be allowed today
He charged without a beat
No Castillian could have handled the task, for he was so quick and fleet
Fools might have challenged him,
Might have challenged him, but... #

# He's so good, he blocked every blade that came at him
He's so good, He's the best in Altamira
The best... the best... the best...#

[Lady Grace]

The tune, much like the rest of Peter's work, was catchy. The Avalon certainly knew how to work a melody. Of course, Annie had to bite down on the bile that was already rising up in her throat due to the lyrics "praising" that vainglorious git.

If it had that sort of an effect on her, the Vendel silently hoped that the reaction would be similar in the Castillians. Right now, she just had to give it time and see if the song, one way or the other, would spread like wildfire....