"Why am I here?"
There was a particular odor in the room and it unsettled Weslyn in a way he could not immediately place.
It became obvious that they were not prepared to give an answer. This secretive gathering of men from the Commoner Council looked from one member to another until one just decided to speak directly to the matter. "Are you tired of being a lowly scribe?"
Weslyn had considered his status more and more often lately. There were various groups of councilors that had very divergent views on many things, which he was dutiful to record and pass along to Lanolylc. Lan worked to stay above the fray and to some extent Weslyn did as well, perhaps just in deference to his employer. A few men had made statements in Council, speaking against the Convocation openly, which Lanolylc as leader quickly silenced rather ambiguously as to his position one way or the other.
The smell in the room was becoming more identifiable. Something between nervous excitement, vague dread, and unsatiated blood-lust. It gave Weslyn a sense of nausea and a desire to run away, which members of the group before him always seemed to produce to varying degrees.
"What are you proposing?" Only strange "Where are we going?" questions so far, feeling out the waters, trying to read intentions. Wes looked with some sadness into the faces of each man, not believing any of them had any particular idea of how to proceed. He knew them all and their pathetic status in the Council, respected by none.
The men were clustered into a strange looking group, obviously failing to look non-nonchalant. "There is going to be an opening among the at-large Councilors," managed one of the taller men. "We wanted to let you know so you could, you know, consider filling it."
Weslyn raised his eyebrows. "Oh yes? Which councilor is leaving?"
This is obviously another question that was not anticipated and far too specific for anyone's liking. The gang of men, who were quietly labeled among the general council as "the Conclave", looked with befuddlement at each other and the taller of the group was poked toward a response. There was a silly yet pained grin on his face. "Oh, there are a few that have..." he paused to grope for a good statement, "...signaled resignation. Nothing really all that specific yet." There were a few moans and the man added, "We just wanted you to be prepared when a vacancy came open..."
The young man nodded. "I appreciate the heads-up. I would be interested in such a position, actually."
The gaggle of councilors looked collectively relieved and a few even chuckled nervously as this idea seemed to be mutually acceptable.
The first man who had spoke rubbed his nose. "I hope you remember your friends that let you know about this opportunity." There were some raised brows in being so overt about recognizing favors that wanted favors in return.
Wes blinked innocently. "I just realize I really don't know any of your names, to express my appreciation for your confidence. Perhaps you could leave me with a list of my generous benefactors?"
A few of the men made as if to rummage around for a paper and quill, but the others slapped down their hands and glared at the more foolish ones. "We need to be going," a previously silent yet more malevolent member of the group spat out as he turned to leave, leading the rest out of this meeting.
"Again, thanks for the information!" Wes called out and waved as the councilors scattered. The odor went with them and breathing was a bit more pleasant.
The young man opened his notebook and quickly scribbled the names of the fleeing men for whatever purpose he might choose to take advantage.
What the Conclave founders lacked in planning, brainpower, and overall hygiene, they somehow made up for in ruthless homicide. Less than a week passed and there were indeed two new vacancies in the Commoner Council at its next gathering. Lanolylc, who lead the Council, was kept only vaguely aware of the existence and membership of the Conclave by hearsay, and Weslyn had grown intentionally slothful in relation to them, not sharing the information he chose to keep to himself.
As the only man associated with the Council that had a firm grasp on reading and writing, the collected men were happy to appoint Wes to one of the vacancies. Lan was none-too-happy to lose his useful underling and be required to treat him now as a peer and a very informed one at that. The informant was now a potential rival and Lanolylc found himself at a suddenly distinct disadvantage, to the glee of the Conclave, who unwisely considered Weslyn a grateful asset to their cause.
They could not be more wrong.