Innverse Stats | Calidus Reinhart

Chapter	Text
Interlude – The Competition	He was a boy of fourteen, then, when the Antinium Wars had first rocked Izril. And Calidus distinctly recalled questioning his tutors about that when the Antinium had begun surfacing and pushing the Blighted Kingdom’s borders. Everyone acted so surprised when they left Rhir and tried to colonize a new continent. But why would a hitherto unknown and highly powerful species not invade another country…?
Interlude – The Competition	Calidus was about to chase down the unhappy realization in his mind that he was living through one of those shifts in history when he managed to stop his brain dead in its tracks. Namely, with the application of two shots of Djinni Essence, the good stuff, bacedel—which was a spirit akin to rum, whiskey, tequila, or brandy, all of which he enjoyed.
Interlude – The Competition	So Calidus sat up in his bed and stretched. A happier man, because his brain no longer remembered…what it remembered. He looked around the rumpled sheets and felt distinctly unclean. Dirty, in fact. Positively disgusting.
Interlude – The Competition	Calidus realized that his company for the night had long since departed, though. That was the only pang; they didn’t stay. Not that he blamed them. Their transactions were often straightforward, even if no gold changed hands. Gold changing hands for an expert, he’d found, often guaranteed more fun, but amateurs were interesting.
Interlude – The Competition	Help, though…Calidus stumbled out of his rooms and knew the latest [Servant] had quit. There was just a…a sheen you got of too many hands on a dirty wall. The opposite of luster; the unbuffable effect of too much sweat and germine substances between cleanings.
Interlude – The Competition	The carpet had things in it. Since they weren’t moving or large, he ignored them in search of food. Calidus found it by walking into the kitchens, naked, and having the [Sous-chef] swear at him and push a plate of a handsome breakfast into his hands.
Interlude – The Competition	Calidus rather liked Ingon. He was not as friendly or gifted as some [Chefs]; in fact, he was average enough to make food taste better and provide mostly what you asked for, so long as it wasn’t exorbitant. He tended to burn seafood, having accidentally given food poisoning to former clients.
Interlude – The Competition	And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus’ authority—well, his noble family’s—far away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.
Interlude – The Competition	And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus’ authority—well, his noble family’s—far away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.
Interlude – The Competition	And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus’ authority—well, his noble family’s—far away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.
Interlude – The Competition	Calidus couldn’t remember, which was a sign the shots were going down well. Ingon replied carefully.
Interlude – The Competition	Calidus departed with that, eating the plate of breakfast without the need to use the utensils. A man could eat a fried egg with his bare fingers. In fact, he had six. Today must be egg-day.
Interlude – The Competition	For instance, Ingon was a good [Cook]. You had to have a good cook. Calidus had found, with experimentation, that you didn’t need to have a good head-of-staff. If you fired one every month for embezzlement, laziness, or sheer incompetence, you could keep your household more or less running. They didn’t have to be actual [Chamberlains] either; far from it. Your average [Manager] could do the job for one month poorly.
Interlude – The Competition	And poorly was good enough. They just had to manage the servants, hiring new ones who turned over almost as fast as their boss. But the system worked. The new manager, as long as they weren’t completely corrupt—and Calidus did make sure they weren’t—hired mostly trustworthy people. Who did their jobs and tried hard to restore the mansion and holdings to a semi-decent state.
Interlude – The Competition	The parties, messes, and excessive workload would break their spirits within months at most. Calidus had a few servants who’d been working here years, but the new ones tended to quit within a three month span.
Interlude – The Competition	To be precise, there were things to steal, and they were all a pain or useless. The carpets had long since lost a lot of their value, and unless you had a supreme bag of holding, good luck in rolling them up and hauling them out of here. The only bedsheets that were silk were Calidus’, and he got them [Cleansed], so if you were walking out of here with them, the guards would grab you.
Interlude – The Competition	Oh, and his guards were smart enough to do their job. They were paid well but rather mindful of the consequences of failure. Which was generally just losing a cushy job where you could relax and steal food and drink from the parties. But if you stole something, really stole something from Calidus, said object generally returned to him within a week, a month at the most.
Interlude – The Competition	Reputation. Deliberation. System…Calidus found a pair of pants and stood there, chewing as he wore them around his neck like a scarf. He had to own, he got why Ingon wasn’t too happy at seeing him.
Interlude – The Competition	Which was fine. Calidus rather liked himself. Not his mind, damn the blasted thing, but his body was fine. Slovenly, but lovely. Naked was not a good look for most, though.
Interlude – The Competition	And that was why the help rotated. Mind you, the servants were mostly female whereas Calidus had found his judgment worked best with men as his head of staff and so on. A good fellow could probably clean up just as well as a lady, but that was just how it was. [Maids] cleaned…not that he hired more than generic [Cleaners] or [Scullery Maids] at most.
Interlude – The Competition	Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, he’d come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus’ interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.
Interlude – The Competition	Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, he’d come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus’ interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.
Interlude – The Competition	Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, he’d come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus’ interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.
Interlude – The Competition	The menu of foods was one of those rare things Calidus worked on zealously, inebriated or not. The worst thing would be to lose the enjoyment of food by eating too much of it. He’d heard that the older you got, the less everything appealed.
Interlude – The Competition	Terrible thought. Calidus expected he had another thirty years in him and then hoped he’d die quietly in his sleep—or in vigorous activities of a fun kind, not war or anything else so horrible. He’d be quietly buried, the entire mansion disinfected, and if he got that far, Calidus thought he’d die with a smile on his face.

Interlude – The Competition

He was a boy of fourteen, then, when the Antinium Wars had first rocked Izril. And Calidus distinctly recalled questioning his tutors about that when the Antinium had begun surfacing and pushing the Blighted Kingdom’s borders. Everyone acted so surprised when they left Rhir and tried to colonize a new continent. But why would a hitherto unknown and highly powerful species not invade another country…?

Interlude – The Competition

Calidus was about to chase down the unhappy realization in his mind that he was living through one of those shifts in history when he managed to stop his brain dead in its tracks. Namely, with the application of two shots of Djinni Essence, the good stuff, bacedel—which was a spirit akin to rum, whiskey, tequila, or brandy, all of which he enjoyed.

Interlude – The Competition

So Calidus sat up in his bed and stretched. A happier man, because his brain no longer remembered…what it remembered. He looked around the rumpled sheets and felt distinctly unclean. Dirty, in fact. Positively disgusting.

Interlude – The Competition

Calidus realized that his company for the night had long since departed, though. That was the only pang; they didn’t stay. Not that he blamed them. Their transactions were often straightforward, even if no gold changed hands. Gold changing hands for an expert, he’d found, often guaranteed more fun, but amateurs were interesting.

Interlude – The Competition

Help, though…Calidus stumbled out of his rooms and knew the latest [Servant] had quit. There was just a…a sheen you got of too many hands on a dirty wall. The opposite of luster; the unbuffable effect of too much sweat and germine substances between cleanings.

Interlude – The Competition

The carpet had things in it. Since they weren’t moving or large, he ignored them in search of food. Calidus found it by walking into the kitchens, naked, and having the [Sous-chef] swear at him and push a plate of a handsome breakfast into his hands.

Interlude – The Competition

Calidus rather liked Ingon. He was not as friendly or gifted as some [Chefs]; in fact, he was average enough to make food taste better and provide mostly what you asked for, so long as it wasn’t exorbitant. He tended to burn seafood, having accidentally given food poisoning to former clients.

Interlude – The Competition

And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus’ authority—well, his noble family’s—far away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.

Interlude – The Competition

And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus’ authority—well, his noble family’s—far away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.

Interlude – The Competition

And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus’ authority—well, his noble family’s—far away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.

Interlude – The Competition

Calidus couldn’t remember, which was a sign the shots were going down well. Ingon replied carefully.

Interlude – The Competition

Calidus departed with that, eating the plate of breakfast without the need to use the utensils. A man could eat a fried egg with his bare fingers. In fact, he had six. Today must be egg-day.

Interlude – The Competition

For instance, Ingon was a good [Cook]. You had to have a good cook. Calidus had found, with experimentation, that you didn’t need to have a good head-of-staff. If you fired one every month for embezzlement, laziness, or sheer incompetence, you could keep your household more or less running. They didn’t have to be actual [Chamberlains] either; far from it. Your average [Manager] could do the job for one month poorly.

Interlude – The Competition

And poorly was good enough. They just had to manage the servants, hiring new ones who turned over almost as fast as their boss. But the system worked. The new manager, as long as they weren’t completely corrupt—and Calidus did make sure they weren’t—hired mostly trustworthy people. Who did their jobs and tried hard to restore the mansion and holdings to a semi-decent state.

Interlude – The Competition

The parties, messes, and excessive workload would break their spirits within months at most. Calidus had a few servants who’d been working here years, but the new ones tended to quit within a three month span.

Interlude – The Competition

To be precise, there were things to steal, and they were all a pain or useless. The carpets had long since lost a lot of their value, and unless you had a supreme bag of holding, good luck in rolling them up and hauling them out of here. The only bedsheets that were silk were Calidus’, and he got them [Cleansed], so if you were walking out of here with them, the guards would grab you.

Interlude – The Competition

Oh, and his guards were smart enough to do their job. They were paid well but rather mindful of the consequences of failure. Which was generally just losing a cushy job where you could relax and steal food and drink from the parties. But if you stole something, really stole something from Calidus, said object generally returned to him within a week, a month at the most.

Interlude – The Competition

Reputation. Deliberation. System…Calidus found a pair of pants and stood there, chewing as he wore them around his neck like a scarf. He had to own, he got why Ingon wasn’t too happy at seeing him.

Interlude – The Competition

Which was fine. Calidus rather liked himself. Not his mind, damn the blasted thing, but his body was fine. Slovenly, but lovely. Naked was not a good look for most, though.

Interlude – The Competition

And that was why the help rotated. Mind you, the servants were mostly female whereas Calidus had found his judgment worked best with men as his head of staff and so on. A good fellow could probably clean up just as well as a lady, but that was just how it was. [Maids] cleaned…not that he hired more than generic [Cleaners] or [Scullery Maids] at most.

Interlude – The Competition

Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, he’d come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus’ interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.

Interlude – The Competition

Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, he’d come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus’ interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.

Interlude – The Competition

Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, he’d come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus’ interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.

Interlude – The Competition

The menu of foods was one of those rare things Calidus worked on zealously, inebriated or not. The worst thing would be to lose the enjoyment of food by eating too much of it. He’d heard that the older you got, the less everything appealed.

Interlude – The Competition

Terrible thought. Calidus expected he had another thirty years in him and then hoped he’d die quietly in his sleep—or in vigorous activities of a fun kind, not war or anything else so horrible. He’d be quietly buried, the entire mansion disinfected, and if he got that far, Calidus thought he’d die with a smile on his face.

Calidus Reinhart

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