The Upper City, North End

Goldsmith Manor

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Goldsmith Manor is the ancestral home of the Goldsmith family. The family's name stemmed from their dealings in the precious metal even before the winter, and they used to own several gold mines in old Daguerre. When the winter came, they brought with them thousands of gold ingots, many of which would eventually be given to the crown in exchange of a noble title. These ingots have been melted and reforged several times in the last hundred years to make the Guerrmark, standard currency of what is left of the world. The Goldmiths remains an influential family, though not one of the most important ones, and they still have a good amount of the gold they brought with them three generations ago. Many of them have gone onto work as bankers and merchants, but they've never been able to truly raise their standing any further. The current Head to the family, Ezra Goldsmith, chose instead to venture into the wastes and sate his thirst for adventure, instead of pursuing the more common interests of his family. Many times did his cousins wish for his death out in the cold, but Ezra managed to survive and even have a daughter, though the rest of the family considers her a mongrel half-breed. The manor itself is almost 100 years old, built across the road from the stone wall where the largest and most powerful noble families have their own homes. It's a two floor building in traditional daguerrian style, built in solid brick and adorned with expensive, if not rather old furnishings. The first floor's equipped with two parlors for the use of Lord and Lady Goldsmith (though Lady Goldsmith has long since passed), a kitchen, a grand spiral stair leading to the second floor, a large kitchen, a library and a family room and a dining hall, as well as bathrooms, a set of servant's quarters and two separate pantries. The second floor contains four bedrooms, a master bedroom where Ezra Goldsmith lives when he's not out in a business trip, his eldest daughter's room, and two empty rooms, meant for other children or guests.

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'Please do not expect me home for dinner!' Nadira succinctly stated in a firm, clear voice, albeit, the statement was not necessarily directed to either the maid or the manservant in particular. The young woman had already gathered her belongings and was on her way to the door; not knowing what she'd need this evening, this simply included some money, her painting supplies-- just in case; and her weapon-- also, just in case. Nadira didn't know precisely where the evening was going to take her, after all. She did pause to take a look at herself in a mirror along the way to make sure she was presentable. As usual, she was quite pristinely and presentably-dressed, even if her Amiri-cum-DaGuerrian outfit was unconventional by current standards.

There were two people who were always at the house with Nadira, even if her father was out on vacation. One was the stuffy butler, Frederic. He was an old Daguerrian with flabby cheeks, ashen skin and a prominent bald head. Other than his eyebrows, it was if there wasn't a single hair on Frederic's head. The man was always pristine in the way he dressed and had raised her father, and probably been in the service of her grandfather before that. Though he had never mistreated Nadira, there had always been great deference and little warmth between them, and he had ratted her goings out to her father more than once. It was obvious that Frederic, in spite of his utmost professionalism, would've preferred a more proper heir to the estate. On the other hand of the coin was Kiraz. She was Nadira's cousin, maybe, or at least some soft of family, from her Majai side. Kiraz herself did not know her own age, but she was probably a year or two older than Nadira. She was a comely Amiri, from the same family as Nadira's mother, though neither girl was entirely sure were the bloodline connected. She had been kicked out of the family almost 15 years ago for refusing to go through with an arranged marriage. Her father threatened to have her banished from the clan for her transgression, probably only meant to scare he straight. Kiraz, her temper fiery, rash and reckless, packed her bags and hopped onto the next lone-train that passed by their small settlement. The woman never speaks about her journey, but it took her almost 8 months to finally find Nadira's family, at which point she was taken in as a maid. She had tanned skin, chocolate eyes, black hair and many suitors among the servants of other noble houses, but she had ever entertained the idea of marriage even if she had entertained a suitor or two. She had ever been Nadira's partner in crime, her confidant and accomplice. That afternoon, unfortunately, only the stiff Frederic was downstairs as Nadira got ready. "Is the lady heading out?" he asked, as if it was not obvious enough.

Idly fingering a fold of her veil, Nadira did her best to keep a smile upon her lips as she pretended to arrange the piece of already neatly-ordered fabric. 'Yes, my dear Frederic, I am taking my leave for the evening,' she carefully enunciated, then smiled at her reflection before snapping her bright-eyed gaze to the butler. Of course, it had to be Frederic. 'I shouldn't think it necessary for you to wait-up for my return,' she added as more of a directive than out of concern for the old man's well-being. With one eyebrow cocked upward, the heiress regarded the man with a markedly calm expression as she tried to recall how long it was her father was going to be away for on his current expedition (Memory), as that would dictate exactly what it was she was going to do this evening. Suddenly quite animated, she asked, 'Is there anything at all that you can think of that I should fetch while I'm out?' She paused, cocked her head slightly and offered an overly gracious smile. 'Or, is there any little old thing that I could get for you?' (Charm) If it meant that Frederic would stay out of her business, Nadira wasn't above a little innocent bribery.

Nadira knew Frederic never really fell for whatever deals she offered him, the main was stoic and incorruptible as he was dry and dull. "There is nothing I need, ma'am." replied simply the older butler with a slight nod. Even if Frederic was a pain, Nadira said the old man had not authority over her, in fact, when her father was gone (and she reckoned his business trip would extend for at least another two weeks) SHE was the lady of the house. "If one might inquire, where could I locate you if it were necessary, miss? asked again the old man, cocking an eyebrow as he spoke this time.

Pursing her full lips, Nadira looked a little sour when Frederic predictably declined her offer. 'I am uncertain where the night will lead me, Frederic, so I can't honestly say,' the young woman said a bit dramatically, one of her hands flicking off to the side in a dismissive manner. That was code for when Nadira went 'slumming', as some members of her family considered this habit, in the Lower City. 'Have a pleasant evening,' she practically sang, to indicated that she was through with this discussion, before turning on her heel and heading our of the manor's front door and out onto WoW - Hasting's North.

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