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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The butler stood there, his posture impeccably straight, his uniform perfectly pressed. This butler name was Antonio. Caleb stepped into the cool, shadowed air of the grand foyer. He handed his hat to a waiting maid and then looked directly at the head of the household staff, purposely making direct eye contact. "Good Afternoon, Antonio. The house is running smoothly, I trust?"
Antonio responded to the greeting with a deep, incredibly respectful bow. "Good afternoon to you, Don McLaughlin. Everything is in perfect order. The staff has completely adjusted to the new administration, and the perimeter is secure."
Before then, Antonio straightened up, pulling a leather bound folio from beneath his arm. He stepped slightly closer, dropping his voice to a professional, confidential volume.
"I have the preliminary logistical drafts and the vendor confirmations for the grand event, Don McLaughlin," Antonio stated efficiently. "As you requested, I have expedited the planning to ensure we are ready to unveil your new position to the upper echelons of the city."
Caleb, hearing that, felt a surge of profound satisfaction. His maxed out Business Skill demanded hyper efficiency, and Antonio was delivering exactly that.
He thanked him, his voice warm but authoritative. "Excellent work, Antonio. You operate with a speed I greatly appreciate."
Before then, Caleb gestured toward the sweeping staircase leading to the upper floors, "We will review it together at my study. Bring the folio."
Antonio nodded his head crisply. "Right away, my Don."
They then went to the study. They walked up the grand staircase, the thick Persian runners silencing their footsteps, and moved down the wide, portrait lined hallway to the most powerful room in the entire estate.
Caleb pushed the heavy mahogany doors open and stepped into the study. The room smelled of rich leather, old books, and expensive tobacco. The massive, hand carved mahogany desk sat in front of the large bay windows that overlooked the sprawling back gardens.
Caleb walked around the desk and took his seat in the high backed, leather executive chair. He leaned back, resting his hands on the armrests, feeling the immense, historical weight of the power he had seized.
Antonio stepped up to the front of the desk, standing respectfully. He opened the leather folio and picked up the meticulously organized stack of documents that he had brought into the study. He organized them quickly before giving the first thick sheaf of papers to Caleb.
Caleb took the documents, his eyes skimming the intricate, beautiful cursive handwriting, but he preferred to hear the logistics spoken aloud to catch any tonal hesitations. He told Antonio to read it for him, section by section.
"Of course, Don McLaughlin," Antonio said, pulling his own copy of the manifesto from the folio.
Antonio then read the reports one by one, his voice a steady, rhythmic cadence of absolute organizational mastery.
Where it started from, of course, the physical layout of the event. He detailed the furniture going to be used at the backyards. "We have secured six massive, pristine white canvas marquees to be erected on the great lawn, providing ample shade."
"Beneath them, we are abandoning the dark, heavy woods of the old regime. We have rented two hundred gold leafed, Parisian style chairs and dozens of round banquet tables, to be draped in pure white, imported Egyptian silk. It will be a vision of daylight and modern elegance, completely distancing your reign from the shadowy, back-alley aesthetic of the past."
Caleb nodded slowly, visualizing the bright, blindingly wealthy setup. "Perfect. The city needs to see that we operate in the light now."
"Moving on to the personnel," Antonio continued. "The servants. I have doubled the household staff for the day, hiring only the most thoroughly vetted, highly recommended waiters and valets from the high society catering firms of Saint Denis. They will wear immaculate black and white livery."
Antonio flipped a page. "And the security. It will be layered, invisible, but absolute. We will have fifty of your most elite made men dressed in tailored suits, blending into the crowd, stationed at every perimeter gate, every doorway, and every blind spot. No long guns will be visible to alarm the aristocratic guests, but the grounds will be an absolute fortress."
"Good. Keep the muscle quiet, but lethal," Caleb ordered.
"Now, the culinary arrangements," Antonio said, a slight, almost imperceptible note of surprise entering his usually stoic voice. "Then the foods that are going to be served. We have secured the finest oysters from the bayou, imported caviar, and roasted quail. But, as per your very specific, highly unusual instructions, my Don..."
Antonio looked up from the paper, verifying the command. "...where the burgers and fries will be put into the menu as well. We are constructing specialized, high heat griddles on the secondary patio."
Caleb smiled a genuine, brilliant smile. "Exactly. And they must be perfect, Antonio."
"They will be," Antonio confirmed, reading further. "Which would be brought directly from your established restaurant in Valentine. We have arranged for a private, refrigerated railcar to transport the premium beef patties, the specific seasoning blends, and the freshly cut potatoes overnight via the Cornwall and Pacific line. Your head chef from Valentine will arrive tomorrow to oversee the local kitchen staff in the exact preparation."
It was a staggering logistical flex. To bring saloon food across state lines and serve it to the absolute wealthiest elite of Saint Denis was a bold, arrogant statement. It told the aristocrats that the new Don didn't care about their snooty, traditional rules of high society.
He was going to feed them what he wanted, and they were going to love it. It connected his legitimate, wildly successful business in the West directly to his new underworld throne in the East.
"Alongside the drinks," Antonio read, moving to the beverages, "from the highest tier of selections. The type of wines will include fifty cases of the 1885 Bordeaux, vintage imported French champagnes for the toasts, and for the more robust guests, premium imported German lagers and local craft beers."
Antonio flipped to the final, most crucial pages. "Before then, the schedule. The time of the party which will be held precisely at 12 noon. A daytime affair, emphasizing transparency and untouchable power that you wanted my don."
"And the guest list?" Caleb asked, steepling his fingers, his blue eyes turning sharp and calculating. This was the political battlefield of Saint Denis after all.
Antonio cleared his throat. "The guest list is extensive and highly curated. From the legitimate side, The Mayor of Saint Denis, Henri Lemieux, has confirmed his attendance. The Chief of Police, Leclerc, has also RSVP'd affirmatively. The numerous rich and upoerclass of Saint Denis, the shipping magnates, the railway barons, and the high society matriarchs, have all received gold embossed invitations."
Antonio flipped the page. "From the other side of the coin, the underworld connections. The heads of the smaller, independent smuggling rings, the foremen of the commercial docks, and the operators of the underground betting parlors. They are coming to bend the knee my don."
"And our external interests?" Caleb prompted.
"All rich or influentials from the outside of Saint Denis was invited," Antonio confirmed. "Including representatives from the Grays Family in Rhodes. They control the local moonshine and tobacco trade in Lemoyne. Bringing them here establishes your diplomatic dominance over the state's rural economy as well."
Every time Antonio finished reading a paper, he placed it delicately down on the mahogany table. Where Caleb re read it, his max level Business Skill instantly scanning the names, the logistics, and the costs, processing the data at supernatural speeds to make sure it was exactly up to what he wanted.
He found absolutely no flaws. It was a masterpiece of event planning, a coronation masquerading as a garden party.
When everything was done, the final paper resting on the polished wood, Caleb nodded his head and agreed with all of it.
"It is flawless, Antonio," Caleb praised him. "You have exceeded my expectations."
Saying to Antonio, Caleb issued his next command. "Now, I need you to draft a secondary set of orders. Tell the rest of the family that all of them are to join the party as well."
Caleb leaned forward, his eyes burning with visionary fire. "Because I also will announce the new Underboss, Vincenzo, officially during this time. I want the men to see him elevated. And I will share my vision to all of the family for the new Saint Denis. I want every man who pulls a trigger or collects a debt for me to hear from my own mouth that the days of starving in the slums are over. We are going corporate."
Antonio understood perfectly. He took out a fresh piece of parchment and a fountain pen to write the order. But he paused, the tip of his pen hovering over the inkwell. He then asked, his tone deeply respectful but undeniably pragmatic, if the entire family truly needed to come.
"My Don, forgive my intrusion," Antonio cautioned softly, utilizing his brilliant logistical mind to protect the empire. "But if the entire family, every low level enforcer, every lookout, every dock worker, comes to the estate... it will be a massive overload."
"The grounds will be suffocated. Furthermore, and more dangerously, the business across the city will suffer a severe lack of security. If we pull every gun off the streets of Saint Denis to attend a party in the Garden District, our warehouses, our betting parlors, and our smuggling routes will be completely exposed to rival gangs or opportunistic thieves for an entire afternoon."
Caleb stopped. His maxed out Leadership Skill didn't make him an arrogant tyrant who ignored good counsel, it made him a highly evolved apex predator who recognized and immediately rewarded tactical brilliance. Antonio was absolutely right. A show of force was pointless if it left the actual empire undefended.
Caleb nodded his head, a look of profound respect crossing his features. Agreeing with that flawless logic, he immediately adjusted the parameter of the command.
"You are absolutely correct, Antonio," Caleb said, pointing a finger at the butler in acknowledgment of his sharp mind. "A king does not leave his walls unguarded just to throw a feast."
Caleb changed it instantly. "Amend the order. To the entire capos, the elite made men, and the highest ranking soldiers only. The leadership structure and the core muscle will attend. The rest of the men will remain on the streets, holding the line, securing our assets. We will throw a separate, private celebration for the rank and file at the warehouses next week. But for this Sunday, we keep the perimeter locked down tight."
"A very wise decision, Don McLaughlin," Antonio said, visibly relieved that his Don was a man of reason, writing down the amended orders with swift, elegant strokes of his pen. "I will have the messages dispatched to the capos immediately. The city will be ready for you."
"Good," Caleb said, leaning back in his leather chair and turning his gaze out the large bay windows, looking out over the sprawling, sunlit gardens of his new kingdom. The board was set. The pieces were moving perfectly. In forty eight hours, Caleb Thorne was going to step out into the daylight, and the entire state of Lemoyne was going to bow at his feet.
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,322 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 286,492 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -