Smiling as he finishes the last minute touches and revisions, he posts the last of the blueprints on a fresh tressle board to dry, takes two steps back and looks at the eight boards from start to finish. The boring things, to most, of the depth and length of the footers, the connection points from the new structure to the old, through the last board with the finished project, the placement of energy bulbs and reflectors, the archs and smaller points of setting tiles and long etched windows. The edges of each print with adendums and revised mathmatical calculations and small finger print smudges here and there, each one ready to breath its first breath from parchment to reality.

     Whistling as he heads out into the warm summer morning, an over sized mug of blackwyne in his hand and heads to the office of the Captain of the Guard, introduces himself and brings the Captain into the loop of what to expect in the next hand, " Two Master Builders and five Apprentice Builders, two tool wagons, a small forge and the delivery wagons of wood, steel and stones..check each wagon if you need but I'm sure you'll find everything in order. Any question of supply payment direct the vendors to me and I'll make sure to take care of that myself." He shakes the larger mans hand then warm claps his shoulder and heads out.

     Sipping as he walks, stopping now and then, polietly nodding to the citizens, small talk so they can know him but always respectful and polite, he asks around for small tidbits of the man he's building this in memory of, little things, funny things, parts of speeches they may remember, all of it stored in that steel trap of a brain of his, all of it useful in some sort of way from memory to reality.

     He chuckles to himself seeing he's drawn a small group, he can feel the respect and admiration they all still have for Sar Cabot and speaks to them easily..." I understand how important  this is to all of you, it's humbling to know such a man can still be affecting your lives, I wish I could have known him as you do. On my word this memorial in the Great Hall will honor his memories as each of you see fit, from the underlying power he held, to the gentle kindness he afforded all of you. Thank you for putting your collective trust in me..." and with a bow of his head and some hand shaking and a laugh or two he made his way back to the hall.

     Sitting on a bench in a garden behind the Great Hall, he looks at what he and his builder friends have ahead of them, rolling the last of the blackwyne in the mug, taking a deep breath and whispering as he closes his eyes " memoria tua.." as he takes in the sun warming his face quietly.