Many Mmph-Mmph Returns!

Many Mmph-Mmph Returns!

Postby Treadwell » Mon Oct 16, 2006 7:25 am

A note written in the sloppy, heavy hand of a former Governor, Councilor, and toymaker. Copies have been sent by messenger to the homes of each member of the Council--or, at least, the addresses that Treadwell remembers from over a year ago.

To the remaining members of the Myrken Wood Council,
Greetings.

I'll not bore you with the details here of where I have been for well over a year. Rest assured it's a very long story, the fairy king--a horrid imposter out to ruin me!--is ultimately at fault, and the whole tale bears repeating in private. For now, I have a number of requests--nay, demands--to make.

I expect the deeds to my former properties--my home, my store, and the goods and clothing and furniture in each--to be returned. I understand this was a problem thanks to the aforementioned King Richard. However, with the assurance that he is not who I am, nor I who he is, I should think that common sense will dictate these matters be returned.

I also understand that the Council is in a bit of disarray. I hereby offer my services, at least until the next common election for proper officials, in my former faculties as Councilor of Administrative Sanctions, as needed.

Good day. I may be found at the house of Roderic G. Cliché, toymaker.
Aloisius Horatio Treadwell -- Chief Magistrate, Westenford, Amasynia; Former Governor, Myrken Wood, Myrken Wood province; Former Councilor of Administrative Sanctions, Myrken Wood, Myrken Wood province
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
User avatar
Treadwell
Member
 
Posts: 2066
Joined: Sun Mar 16, 2003 5:00 am
Location: NC, USA

Postby channe » Mon Oct 16, 2006 9:21 am

The address that Treadwell remembers for Helstone has been catapulted out of existence; lucky thing that the new one is just up the street, really, and the boy who delivers such missives is smart enough to recognize it.

Mr. Treadwell,

You'll pardon me if I express a certain surprise upon recieving this missive. I am a practical man, and not quite wise in the ways of fairies; however, I did smell something suspicious in King Richard's requests, and continue to keep your properties in abeyance.

However, as I am a practical man, I think common sense would dictate that we will need absolute proof that you are who you say you are before your properties are returned. I hope you understand; we must be sure of these things, in a world that is so unsure. There have been many people who have attempted to grab hold of your toyshop, sir, and I'm sure we will only release it to the blood-proven Aloisius Treadwell.

I heard you ran into Rosamaria the other day; she, no doubt, informed you that I now hold the position of Administrative Sanctions. We are planning on an election for Governor to be held once the drow threat is eased, and at that time there will be an opening on the council and at that time you may run for it once more if you wish.

At any rate, it may be good for us to meet, Treadwell. I can be found at my offices on Baker Street now that the Meetinghouse has burned.

Sincerely,
Coriolanus Helstone
Councilor of Administrative Sanctions
Myrken Wood Judiciary Council
User avatar
channe
Member
 
Posts: 1651
Joined: Sat Aug 14, 2004 4:00 am
Location: the city of magical thinking.

Postby Treadwell » Mon Oct 16, 2006 12:40 pm

And so a hasty reply is penned to Helstone.

Mr. Helstone,

I suppose this will take a meeting face to face to prove I'm not the pink bug I'd much rather squish under foot than be compared to. Name a time suitable to your tastes, and I will be there. Honestly, I've no idea how you'll test me, as you said. I can't sprinkle fairy dust out of my fingers or flit about on wings; the wings simply don't exist that could haul this body 'round.

If you like, send a messenger to New Hibera to ask an audience with Richard there. If getting the two of us in one room is what it shall take, so be it.

Aloisius Treadwell
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
User avatar
Treadwell
Member
 
Posts: 2066
Joined: Sun Mar 16, 2003 5:00 am
Location: NC, USA

New Lodgings

Postby Treadwell » Thu Dec 07, 2006 9:34 am

Morning. Myrken Wood. December 7, 206

"My daughter and I need a place to live, and we would live at the height of style. Your estate, furnishings, and so forth will do nicely, mmph mmph, as will the work of your servants you have hired, who shall very soon be *my* servants. Now, the gold in that bag there is good, secured from my coffers at home on my most recent trip there, and, you, sir, have mentioned finding a rather safe haven living with your grown children."

So it is that one Arthur Long, somewhat wealthy merchant moved recently enough into Myrken Wood and living separate from his two grown sons, gives a nod of his head. He himself is a money-minded man, and he is making a profit, here, for minimal hassle spent in moving in with his elder boy. In fact, he's too busy drooling over the coins to argue with Treadwell at all. Money changes hands, and, within moments, documents are signed and a moderately large house, stable, and guest house all a short ride from Myrken Wood's Broken Dagger changes hands, as well.

"And, of course, there's the matter of taxing the money you just received, Mr. Long. You'll note I've already portioned out smaller purses within--the full fifteen percent required to the province for gaining such a hefty sum at once!--that I'll certainly be laying claim to for Myrken Wood."

The coins are retrieved as the old merchant's face collapses. Hundreds of shillings--gone!--with nothing more than a cold rumble from the tax collector. In truth, he was no longer making a profit. He was taking a fairly nice hit to his purse.

"I expect you can show yourself out, hmm hmm? Good day! I'm a busy man, you see; my new barber--what did you say his name is? Edwin?--simply *must* do something about this beard of mine. It's ruined, mmph mmph, ruined by brandy!" So it was that Aloisius Treadwell wobbled off with a newfound strut to his stooped shuffle, and so it was that one merchant staggered out with a newfound queasiness to his rounded stomach.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
User avatar
Treadwell
Member
 
Posts: 2066
Joined: Sun Mar 16, 2003 5:00 am
Location: NC, USA

A Crucial Piece of Evidence?

Postby Treadwell » Fri Dec 08, 2006 2:39 pm

From Aloisius H. Treadwell's Private Journal
Currently resting under a blanket under his bed in the back of the abandoned Tready's Toys building in Myrken Wood, written in Treadwell's sloppy, heavy hand and faded slightly.

= = = = =

06 July A. R. 205

Approximately two months after the ten percent tax increase on 275 Myrken citizens--Pritchite, as they're known, and others.

Of the 265 shillings collected in taxes at that time (middle of May 205), I put every last one in the lockbox in my Meetinghouse office the day they were collected.

Numerous farmers--not aligned with the Pritchites--offered payments in part or whole in food and water. These payments were marked strictly for Council use. However, as the Council did not have a storehouse of its own at the time--and still doesn't, an oversight to be corrected in time to come, I should hope--I saw to all of its being put in my own storehouse and being set aside quite visibly with signs and warnings. Of these payments in food, distribution has fallen largely to selling it back to some of the merchants in town, at a reduced price, as a means of trying to boost the economy a bit. Money from that has also been getting put into the lockbox in my office, bringing the total to 298 shillings.

I think it's working. It's so hard to tell that here, though, without something to compare it to!

The food stores are nearly spent, though, as I write this. The shillings have been held back for the time being, awaiting their use when other funds run dry.

A. H. T.

= = = = =

There would just be one problem with verifying any of this! While all of the food had been distributed and sold, and Treadwell had kept records of that, and while coins had been put into the appropriate lockbox. . . . Treadwell's office had been ransacked the following September. Tax money had been stolen, and documents there ruined and misplaced. Any other information would have to come from the vendors themselves. The people. Myrken herself.

So, what does this mean for a legally questionable Councilor of Administrative Sanctions under the watchful eye of his peers?
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
User avatar
Treadwell
Member
 
Posts: 2066
Joined: Sun Mar 16, 2003 5:00 am
Location: NC, USA

Postby Carnath-Emory » Tue Dec 12, 2006 1:19 am

test tes test
User avatar
Carnath-Emory
Member
 
Posts: 2513
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2002 5:00 am
Location: Under your bed.

A Departing Friend

Postby Treadwell » Fri Dec 15, 2006 3:57 pm

Aloisius Treadwell had better sense than to stay at his new home the last day or two. Babette, his daughter, has been making appearances in and out--mostly in the east wing of the building--redecorating in new materials and moving furniture around. So where has Treadwell been?

He's been wishing a friend of his, one Roderic Cliché, a warm farewell, for the time being. This time, though, all documents have been drawn up properly, and all matters of rent and who owns what have been taken care of. The land, house, and shop are to be returned to the Council to be used as the Council sees fit. Roderic's excuse is simple: Myrken Wood simply isn't home to him, nowadays. The traveling toymaker has places he'd rather see--first, the land he still owns up by Westenford, land that used to be the former village of Delamar, a village torched in the night during his absence some time in the past. Second, he'd like to travel about a bit more all around. Maybe--just maybe--he could do a bit of sailing about on the open sea after spending a little time in Treadwell's native Westenford?

Either way, whatever the old man's plans, his house in Myrken Wood remains. The building and the furniture within are at the Council's disposal--maybe not big enough for a new meetinghouse, proper, but it might do in a pinch for smaller meetings? The toys he has made (and toys that Treadwell has added to here and there recently), his clothing, and anything else Roderic wishes to take with him all end up packed in a coach paid for easily enough.

So, come midnight of December 15, A. R. 206, Roderic Gustav Cliché makes his way out of Myrken Wood in a new carriage pulled by a horse healthier by far than Treadwell's old Arnold.

And Treadwell finds himself making for the inn.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
User avatar
Treadwell
Member
 
Posts: 2066
Joined: Sun Mar 16, 2003 5:00 am
Location: NC, USA


Return to Downtown Myrkentown



Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest

cron