- Influence
- 4,742.00
Humidor 6, Yr. 1726
A Slippery Encounter
By Lace Von Miave
A rather large snake has been seen wandering the Imperium, causing confusion and chaos in its adventurings. The latest sighting was in the Insansely Rich Area on FlaggaTruffle Avenue.
The trespassing reptile intruded upon the sprawling estate of one Madame Trouseirre, a lovely, elderly, filthy rich ratess of high stature in the community. Alas, we were unable to interview Madame Trouseirre directly, but we did have a few words with her Butler, who also encountered the snake.
Madame had just returned from her day in the Insanely Elite Market, where she was buying SnobblyChops, a rare delicacy. Yes, they are simply heavenly, with bits of hazelnut cheese and tasty morsels of raspberry jam. Shnufflecrunchschnaaarrf. Delicious! Ahem.
According to the Butler, Madame Trouseirre happened upon the reptile as she entered her grand marble bathroom, saying that she was drawn to the room by the bubbles seeping out from under the door, and the strong smell of lavender in the air.
Upon opening the door she was stunned to find thick walls of fluffy purple bubbles rising from the stone floors to the vaulted ceilings, overflowing from her white, marble bathtub.
In the midst of the soapy clouds was a large snake reclining contentedly, and smelling suspiciously of her personal supply of bubbling lavender soap. The intruder had somehow donned the Madame's muffin cap and was happily dining on scrumptious wheat crackers.
At the ratess's terrified squeak the intruder fled the bathroom and slipped down the curved staircase, trailing bubbly bath water and cracker crumbs in its wake. Still wearing the Madame's muffin cap with little strings a-swaying, it startled the Butler who had just entered via the front door. At the Butler's shriek of protest, the snake slithered its way out of the mansion and onto the lawn where it was promptly lost from sight.
The Madame of the estate was too disturbed to relive the traumatic event, although she managed to say how devastated she was, mourning the loss of her muffin cap and lavendar bubble soap. She claims that the 'thieving reptile' tipped the entire glass bottle of crushed lavender petal soap into the bathtub, causing at least 20,000 gilders worth of damage.
Madame Trouseirre has now recovered from the shock of such a horrid experience, and is perusing the Elite Market in search of yet another bottle of lavender bubble soap.
Needless to say the intruder has not been apprehended, and is still at large.
It appears to be a large reptile, stretching five feet long with green and brown markings, and a pink forked tongue. The snake appears bewildered; still wearing the Madame's cap and covered in frothy bubbles it is assuming the identity of a slithering purple bubble shrub. If you have seen this beast please contact your local Fogeys immediately.
Reporting from FlaggaTruffle Ave, this is Lace Von Miave. Good day.
A rather large snake has been seen wandering the Imperium, causing confusion and chaos in its adventurings. The latest sighting was in the Insansely Rich Area on FlaggaTruffle Avenue.
The trespassing reptile intruded upon the sprawling estate of one Madame Trouseirre, a lovely, elderly, filthy rich ratess of high stature in the community. Alas, we were unable to interview Madame Trouseirre directly, but we did have a few words with her Butler, who also encountered the snake.
Madame had just returned from her day in the Insanely Elite Market, where she was buying SnobblyChops, a rare delicacy. Yes, they are simply heavenly, with bits of hazelnut cheese and tasty morsels of raspberry jam. Shnufflecrunchschnaaarrf. Delicious! Ahem.
According to the Butler, Madame Trouseirre happened upon the reptile as she entered her grand marble bathroom, saying that she was drawn to the room by the bubbles seeping out from under the door, and the strong smell of lavender in the air.
Upon opening the door she was stunned to find thick walls of fluffy purple bubbles rising from the stone floors to the vaulted ceilings, overflowing from her white, marble bathtub.
In the midst of the soapy clouds was a large snake reclining contentedly, and smelling suspiciously of her personal supply of bubbling lavender soap. The intruder had somehow donned the Madame's muffin cap and was happily dining on scrumptious wheat crackers.
At the ratess's terrified squeak the intruder fled the bathroom and slipped down the curved staircase, trailing bubbly bath water and cracker crumbs in its wake. Still wearing the Madame's muffin cap with little strings a-swaying, it startled the Butler who had just entered via the front door. At the Butler's shriek of protest, the snake slithered its way out of the mansion and onto the lawn where it was promptly lost from sight.
The Madame of the estate was too disturbed to relive the traumatic event, although she managed to say how devastated she was, mourning the loss of her muffin cap and lavendar bubble soap. She claims that the 'thieving reptile' tipped the entire glass bottle of crushed lavender petal soap into the bathtub, causing at least 20,000 gilders worth of damage.
Madame Trouseirre has now recovered from the shock of such a horrid experience, and is perusing the Elite Market in search of yet another bottle of lavender bubble soap.
Needless to say the intruder has not been apprehended, and is still at large.
It appears to be a large reptile, stretching five feet long with green and brown markings, and a pink forked tongue. The snake appears bewildered; still wearing the Madame's cap and covered in frothy bubbles it is assuming the identity of a slithering purple bubble shrub. If you have seen this beast please contact your local Fogeys immediately.
Reporting from FlaggaTruffle Ave, this is Lace Von Miave. Good day.
Meatier What?!
By Nairet Hrev
A wild mob attacked a building earlier this week, armed with torches, pitchforks, and other Various Pointy and Dangerous Implements. What could possibly have possessed the normally sane... well, at least semi-sane citizens of Bully Harbor to attack this seemingly innocent building? To find out, I took it upon myself to investigate the entire event: Who were the attackers and attacked? What is (or was, if the inhabitants have any sense) the purpose of the building?
Well dear Smelt readers, I have found out the answers to all these questions. As it turns out, the target of the riot was the headquarters of the Weatherbeast's Guild, also known as the Meatier Ology Department, though I was not able to find out what an ology was. (Every time I asked, the weatherbeasts just looked at me like I had lost my head.) Now, upon finding out the use of the building and the occupation of the beasts inside I found myself in a rather confused state. They seemed innocent enough. The statements I got from several of the beasts inside only helped this position, as was to be expected. Here are a few quotes.
"All we do is tell the beasts out there what the weather's supposed t' be doing. It's not our fault if we're wrong sometimes!"
"Blasted seabeasts... wantin' t' put me up as a wind sock. ME!!!"
"A what? Yer out of yer mind, miss. There ain't no such thing as an "ology." Kids these days. What do they teach 'em?"
"Why? WHY?!? They have no reason. That's why they're sailing. Anybeast insane enough t' go out there on th' sea in a wooden tub is insane enough t' do anything. Anything...."
After learning the victims side of the story, I left to find some members of the mob itself to see if they could give me a more definitive answer as to the cause of the attack.
The first creature I met told me this:
"Well, they didn' tell us wot we needed ter know fer easy sailin', an' we were... er... protestin'!" When asked about the mysterious "ology," he explained thusly: "Isn' that wot we do fer a dead beast b'fore we sends 'im off t' Davey Jones?"
The next few beasts I met looked like they were about to rip me apart with their bare claws as soon as I mention the words “mob,” “riot,” or “weather.” I ended up running aboard one of the great ships that were docked at the time, not realizing then that there were probably more of the unfriendly sailors there than in the streets. However, I was lucky and got several good answers from the beasts there and the other three ships.
One beast on the Skeered told me this:
"If'n a beast endangers our lives, we're bound t' react." At this point she gave me a rather frightening smile and I moved off rather too quickly for me to either catch her name or retain my dignity.
Another beast, one Crimson Vixen by name, on that same ship gave me this answer:
"Aaargh! The scabpawed wedder beasties tol' us it'd be stormy! Roarin' 'Gates! They perdicted it'd rain crabs n' cockleshells. 'Stead twas sunny, liddle ol' yellow beamies comin' down jest as harpy as yer please! Wedder beasties, harr harr, fishbait thass wot they be! Carve 'em all ter bits, wot I says... Oi! Don' ye hog the grog mate, pass it o'er!"
After that, I found myself on the Glory, where I gleaned this bit of information from lizardess Kreelen Gao:
"Well! I think we had a right to riot, we ran the ship into rocks! If not for a quick crew we'd have sunk! Hmph. All the Glorybeasts had to help get the water out of the hull, 'cause that's where the rocks hit the ship. It took forever. Everybeast was complaining. And the weather beasts didn't even apologize. That's what made me angry, as if running holes into the ship and bucket-by-bucket getting water out of the hull and we couldn't even get an apology.
Anyway, the riot got pretty bad. Beasts started to throw rocks at windows trying to break in, but the weather beasts boarded them shut. Then they tried to sneak out the back to get help from the Guard. But a couple beasts caught two of them. The others ran back inside. The captured ones they made go fix the holes better."
From there I wend to the BlackShip, where a second fox, Arokk Garrason, told me what he thought of the situation:
"Huh, those laggards, those meatyoroloicik type beasts, what ever you call them. Serves them right for what they done. You know how they randomly guess at the weather and expect us to believe it? Well you will never believe what they did.
We were to set sail, but some of the more wiser types warned us against it, because o' th' black clouds. The Captain prepares for a wait... But some random beastie goes quoting the forkcast, saying that the "Profeshinals" said that today was to be a three percent chance of being all warm and cloud-less. Then as soon as we pull out, an huge wind smashes us against the rocks.
So the majority of the crews stormed the station.
Ya quote me if you want, it will be good for "Those ones" to know what’s coming to them if they ever set a paw outside again."
Lastly, I set paw on the Hide, where Ireana Poysonar was kind enough to enlighten me to this fact:
"I don't see why everyone's so concerned about a weather station. Sure, those beasts’ weather reports made the captains decide to drive the ships right into an awful storm, but how were they to know for sure what the weather would be like? I don't see how a common beast can know for sure the weather. That's up to the Dragons that rule the sky is it not?"
In short, it would seem that the creatures of the Weatherbeast's Guild made one too many mistakes when giving their predictions. Perhaps the last straw was the fact that it was the day of a funeral (if that is indeed what is meant by the "ology".) Whatever the reason, though, this angered the navybeasts and they came to "explain" the proper way of doing things to the weatherbeasts. Or maybe they just did their best, and there is no other choice.
This is Nairet Hrev, out.
A wild mob attacked a building earlier this week, armed with torches, pitchforks, and other Various Pointy and Dangerous Implements. What could possibly have possessed the normally sane... well, at least semi-sane citizens of Bully Harbor to attack this seemingly innocent building? To find out, I took it upon myself to investigate the entire event: Who were the attackers and attacked? What is (or was, if the inhabitants have any sense) the purpose of the building?
Well dear Smelt readers, I have found out the answers to all these questions. As it turns out, the target of the riot was the headquarters of the Weatherbeast's Guild, also known as the Meatier Ology Department, though I was not able to find out what an ology was. (Every time I asked, the weatherbeasts just looked at me like I had lost my head.) Now, upon finding out the use of the building and the occupation of the beasts inside I found myself in a rather confused state. They seemed innocent enough. The statements I got from several of the beasts inside only helped this position, as was to be expected. Here are a few quotes.
"All we do is tell the beasts out there what the weather's supposed t' be doing. It's not our fault if we're wrong sometimes!"
"Blasted seabeasts... wantin' t' put me up as a wind sock. ME!!!"
"A what? Yer out of yer mind, miss. There ain't no such thing as an "ology." Kids these days. What do they teach 'em?"
"Why? WHY?!? They have no reason. That's why they're sailing. Anybeast insane enough t' go out there on th' sea in a wooden tub is insane enough t' do anything. Anything...."
After learning the victims side of the story, I left to find some members of the mob itself to see if they could give me a more definitive answer as to the cause of the attack.
The first creature I met told me this:
"Well, they didn' tell us wot we needed ter know fer easy sailin', an' we were... er... protestin'!" When asked about the mysterious "ology," he explained thusly: "Isn' that wot we do fer a dead beast b'fore we sends 'im off t' Davey Jones?"
The next few beasts I met looked like they were about to rip me apart with their bare claws as soon as I mention the words “mob,” “riot,” or “weather.” I ended up running aboard one of the great ships that were docked at the time, not realizing then that there were probably more of the unfriendly sailors there than in the streets. However, I was lucky and got several good answers from the beasts there and the other three ships.
One beast on the Skeered told me this:
"If'n a beast endangers our lives, we're bound t' react." At this point she gave me a rather frightening smile and I moved off rather too quickly for me to either catch her name or retain my dignity.
Another beast, one Crimson Vixen by name, on that same ship gave me this answer:
"Aaargh! The scabpawed wedder beasties tol' us it'd be stormy! Roarin' 'Gates! They perdicted it'd rain crabs n' cockleshells. 'Stead twas sunny, liddle ol' yellow beamies comin' down jest as harpy as yer please! Wedder beasties, harr harr, fishbait thass wot they be! Carve 'em all ter bits, wot I says... Oi! Don' ye hog the grog mate, pass it o'er!"
After that, I found myself on the Glory, where I gleaned this bit of information from lizardess Kreelen Gao:
"Well! I think we had a right to riot, we ran the ship into rocks! If not for a quick crew we'd have sunk! Hmph. All the Glorybeasts had to help get the water out of the hull, 'cause that's where the rocks hit the ship. It took forever. Everybeast was complaining. And the weather beasts didn't even apologize. That's what made me angry, as if running holes into the ship and bucket-by-bucket getting water out of the hull and we couldn't even get an apology.
Anyway, the riot got pretty bad. Beasts started to throw rocks at windows trying to break in, but the weather beasts boarded them shut. Then they tried to sneak out the back to get help from the Guard. But a couple beasts caught two of them. The others ran back inside. The captured ones they made go fix the holes better."
From there I wend to the BlackShip, where a second fox, Arokk Garrason, told me what he thought of the situation:
"Huh, those laggards, those meatyoroloicik type beasts, what ever you call them. Serves them right for what they done. You know how they randomly guess at the weather and expect us to believe it? Well you will never believe what they did.
We were to set sail, but some of the more wiser types warned us against it, because o' th' black clouds. The Captain prepares for a wait... But some random beastie goes quoting the forkcast, saying that the "Profeshinals" said that today was to be a three percent chance of being all warm and cloud-less. Then as soon as we pull out, an huge wind smashes us against the rocks.
So the majority of the crews stormed the station.
Ya quote me if you want, it will be good for "Those ones" to know what’s coming to them if they ever set a paw outside again."
Lastly, I set paw on the Hide, where Ireana Poysonar was kind enough to enlighten me to this fact:
"I don't see why everyone's so concerned about a weather station. Sure, those beasts’ weather reports made the captains decide to drive the ships right into an awful storm, but how were they to know for sure what the weather would be like? I don't see how a common beast can know for sure the weather. That's up to the Dragons that rule the sky is it not?"
In short, it would seem that the creatures of the Weatherbeast's Guild made one too many mistakes when giving their predictions. Perhaps the last straw was the fact that it was the day of a funeral (if that is indeed what is meant by the "ology".) Whatever the reason, though, this angered the navybeasts and they came to "explain" the proper way of doing things to the weatherbeasts. Or maybe they just did their best, and there is no other choice.
This is Nairet Hrev, out.
The Once And Future Kreehold
By Marscapone, Kreehold Accountant
There is a change in the Kreehold, and it is for the better. The previous Captain, Keinruf Wright, has been missing since the Mayor declared martial law. It is believed that he is hiding outside of Bully Harbour in the surrounding countryside. The Mistress of Torture, Leite Kiefer, has also vanished. With their absence, the new Minister of Commerce, Harisar Vernum, has taken over the Kreehold, removing both marten's status from the ranks.
Years ago, the Kreehold were a pirating force of mercenaries, with sailing ships of their own, and hundreds of beasts. They were destroyed completely in 1723, during the time known to some as "The Original Coup". In 1725, they were revived as a smaller mercenary group, headed by Dead Eye Trueflight and under control of Varen Verdeloth and charged with collecting taxes. The deaths of both Varen and Dead Eye found the Kreehold under the command of Keinruf Wright, who disbanded the mercenaries from the Ministry of Commerce (the MinoComm at the time being Calria Eagle, former Captain of the BlackShip.)
As pirates, the Kreehold were feared. Under Trueflight, they were simply hated. Under Wright, they were shamed.
Wright, being the former Master of Torture, was precisely the wrong beast to lead the Kreehold. No longer mercenaries, they became yet another stuck-up gang of criminals wandering the streets and causing havoc for the Stoatorian Guard and the Mayor's Fogeys alike.
The new Kreehold Captain is Tess Darkstar, also Cook on the BlackShip - under such a beast, what will the Kreehold become? Though I have yet to meet miss Darkstar, I have heard many tales of her honourable nature from her fellow crewbeasts; indeed, Darkstar is claimed to be a pleasant personality, with many morals, manners and more valour than the current MinoWar. Her pet bird is also noted as being "Handsome" - this I find to be true, for the crewbeasts I interviewed put a paw on their ear in reverence while mentioning his name (Cardigan.)
Harisar Vernum has lavished the Kreehold with Ministry funds - they now have new uniforms, a revised ranking system, and their barracks is currently under renovation to reflect the changes in both the command and the nature of the mercenaries. Vernum is a wise and charming businessbeast, not one to waste a gilder in hare-brained profiteering schemes. His interest in the Kreehold is a sign that they are not the scum they were before, but a worthwhile investment for the entire Imperium.
With such a team leading them, the Kreehold's reputation has shattered, and a new one will rise to take its place, one which must not - can not - be compared to their previous one - the glory of the Kreehold's future would obscure the darkness of their past. I beseech the Citizens of the Imperium to cast aside their old views, and to look forwards to a brighter future for us all.
There is a change in the Kreehold, and it is for the better. The previous Captain, Keinruf Wright, has been missing since the Mayor declared martial law. It is believed that he is hiding outside of Bully Harbour in the surrounding countryside. The Mistress of Torture, Leite Kiefer, has also vanished. With their absence, the new Minister of Commerce, Harisar Vernum, has taken over the Kreehold, removing both marten's status from the ranks.
Years ago, the Kreehold were a pirating force of mercenaries, with sailing ships of their own, and hundreds of beasts. They were destroyed completely in 1723, during the time known to some as "The Original Coup". In 1725, they were revived as a smaller mercenary group, headed by Dead Eye Trueflight and under control of Varen Verdeloth and charged with collecting taxes. The deaths of both Varen and Dead Eye found the Kreehold under the command of Keinruf Wright, who disbanded the mercenaries from the Ministry of Commerce (the MinoComm at the time being Calria Eagle, former Captain of the BlackShip.)
As pirates, the Kreehold were feared. Under Trueflight, they were simply hated. Under Wright, they were shamed.
Wright, being the former Master of Torture, was precisely the wrong beast to lead the Kreehold. No longer mercenaries, they became yet another stuck-up gang of criminals wandering the streets and causing havoc for the Stoatorian Guard and the Mayor's Fogeys alike.
The new Kreehold Captain is Tess Darkstar, also Cook on the BlackShip - under such a beast, what will the Kreehold become? Though I have yet to meet miss Darkstar, I have heard many tales of her honourable nature from her fellow crewbeasts; indeed, Darkstar is claimed to be a pleasant personality, with many morals, manners and more valour than the current MinoWar. Her pet bird is also noted as being "Handsome" - this I find to be true, for the crewbeasts I interviewed put a paw on their ear in reverence while mentioning his name (Cardigan.)
Harisar Vernum has lavished the Kreehold with Ministry funds - they now have new uniforms, a revised ranking system, and their barracks is currently under renovation to reflect the changes in both the command and the nature of the mercenaries. Vernum is a wise and charming businessbeast, not one to waste a gilder in hare-brained profiteering schemes. His interest in the Kreehold is a sign that they are not the scum they were before, but a worthwhile investment for the entire Imperium.
With such a team leading them, the Kreehold's reputation has shattered, and a new one will rise to take its place, one which must not - can not - be compared to their previous one - the glory of the Kreehold's future would obscure the darkness of their past. I beseech the Citizens of the Imperium to cast aside their old views, and to look forwards to a brighter future for us all.
Dear Torl (Seventh Edition)
By Torl Wafflepaw
Dear Torl, I have recently acquired a pet octopus, named Inky. He attempts to climb in bed with me, and gets the sheets all sticky. I can't figure out what to do. Can you give me any tips on training him? I made him a box to sleep in, but he always gets out, so I need to train him. Sincerely ~ Octopi Rule
Dear Octopi, I used to have one when I was a little kit, so I consider myself something of an expert on these creatures. The common octopus is closely related to the closet monster, known as the Dark Forbidding Tentacles, which of course everybeast knows exist. My parents tried telling me my octopus needed some sort of basin of water to live in, since they are sea-creatures; but I knew better. I stuck my octopus into the closet so it could keep the Dark Forbidding Tentacles company. They eloped that very night, and I never saw either one again. My guess was that they didn't want to stick around in my closet, because a day or so later something inside really started smelling. So you see, your octopus is perfectly trained-- he's just lonely, and wants a companion at night, when everything's so dark and scary!
Dear Torl, I have a very moody kit, that won't eat her peas or spinach. She only wants candied chestnuts and scones. But I don't want her to grow up looking like a barrel! I've tried everything from forcing her to eat them (she spit them back in my face, though), to making spinach-flavored scones. What should I do? ~ Mother in Trouble
Dear Mother, I'm really sorry I was such a bad son, and I hope you can for-- oh. You're not my Mother! My mother let me eat candied chestnuts and scones all the time, when she wasn't feeding me other sweetmeats. You, on the other paw, are a horrible parent. Peas! Spinach! What are you, some sort of mouse? The Stoatorian Guard will be notified of this! I'm sure it's in the books, somewhere... "Sect 9, Artcl 1, Clause 12: Feeding vegetables to kits is seen as Torture, Imprisonment and Really Bad Parenting, and is punishable by..."
Dear Torl, I'm hungry. Can I eat the Mayor? Please? Or ... or Hubert? Please? Can I eat you? Please? I'm so hungry! I want food! Give me food! Give me the ex-MinoWar to eat - he's not doing much at the moment, just hanging around wasting gilders! Roast Kenshin? Please? - Starving
Dear Starving, your plight is pitiable and understandable, but at the same time, none of my concern. You want food, you don't write to an advice columnist (though that is indeed what you did so that advice is too late.) But here's my advice for you: Why do beasts have tails? Hint: Emergency rations!
Dear Torl, I... er... have a bit of a problem. I found a Missertross gull lying dead outside my door. I didn't kill it, but it's most certainly... dead. I looked at the ring around it's leg, and it says it belongs to the Ministry of War. Am I going to be in trouble? I've heard things about the MinoWar... something about pyromania? I didn't do anything! The silly bird just chose that place to die! ~ Worried For My Tail
Dear Worried, the Inexplicably Deceased Missertross Gull is taken by most beasts, myself included, as a sign of something to come; an omen, if you prefer. What does this omen say of your future? Very little. But beasts in Tookumberry may be surprised by snow, hail, kipper, and perhaps various kinds of eiderdown and bits of the Ministry of Commerce falling from the sky in-- and this is just my estimation-- twenty Imperial years. As for the bird, why complain about free dinner? The MinoWar cares very much for the well-being of the Imperium's citizens. Do not disappoint her by refusing her gift. And if it's not a gift, who knows? Maybe she wanted the bird dead anyhow. Maybe it had cholera.
Dear Torl, I have recently acquired a pet octopus, named Inky. He attempts to climb in bed with me, and gets the sheets all sticky. I can't figure out what to do. Can you give me any tips on training him? I made him a box to sleep in, but he always gets out, so I need to train him. Sincerely ~ Octopi Rule
Dear Octopi, I used to have one when I was a little kit, so I consider myself something of an expert on these creatures. The common octopus is closely related to the closet monster, known as the Dark Forbidding Tentacles, which of course everybeast knows exist. My parents tried telling me my octopus needed some sort of basin of water to live in, since they are sea-creatures; but I knew better. I stuck my octopus into the closet so it could keep the Dark Forbidding Tentacles company. They eloped that very night, and I never saw either one again. My guess was that they didn't want to stick around in my closet, because a day or so later something inside really started smelling. So you see, your octopus is perfectly trained-- he's just lonely, and wants a companion at night, when everything's so dark and scary!
Dear Torl, I have a very moody kit, that won't eat her peas or spinach. She only wants candied chestnuts and scones. But I don't want her to grow up looking like a barrel! I've tried everything from forcing her to eat them (she spit them back in my face, though), to making spinach-flavored scones. What should I do? ~ Mother in Trouble
Dear Mother, I'm really sorry I was such a bad son, and I hope you can for-- oh. You're not my Mother! My mother let me eat candied chestnuts and scones all the time, when she wasn't feeding me other sweetmeats. You, on the other paw, are a horrible parent. Peas! Spinach! What are you, some sort of mouse? The Stoatorian Guard will be notified of this! I'm sure it's in the books, somewhere... "Sect 9, Artcl 1, Clause 12: Feeding vegetables to kits is seen as Torture, Imprisonment and Really Bad Parenting, and is punishable by..."
Dear Torl, I'm hungry. Can I eat the Mayor? Please? Or ... or Hubert? Please? Can I eat you? Please? I'm so hungry! I want food! Give me food! Give me the ex-MinoWar to eat - he's not doing much at the moment, just hanging around wasting gilders! Roast Kenshin? Please? - Starving
Dear Starving, your plight is pitiable and understandable, but at the same time, none of my concern. You want food, you don't write to an advice columnist (though that is indeed what you did so that advice is too late.) But here's my advice for you: Why do beasts have tails? Hint: Emergency rations!
Dear Torl, I... er... have a bit of a problem. I found a Missertross gull lying dead outside my door. I didn't kill it, but it's most certainly... dead. I looked at the ring around it's leg, and it says it belongs to the Ministry of War. Am I going to be in trouble? I've heard things about the MinoWar... something about pyromania? I didn't do anything! The silly bird just chose that place to die! ~ Worried For My Tail
Dear Worried, the Inexplicably Deceased Missertross Gull is taken by most beasts, myself included, as a sign of something to come; an omen, if you prefer. What does this omen say of your future? Very little. But beasts in Tookumberry may be surprised by snow, hail, kipper, and perhaps various kinds of eiderdown and bits of the Ministry of Commerce falling from the sky in-- and this is just my estimation-- twenty Imperial years. As for the bird, why complain about free dinner? The MinoWar cares very much for the well-being of the Imperium's citizens. Do not disappoint her by refusing her gift. And if it's not a gift, who knows? Maybe she wanted the bird dead anyhow. Maybe it had cholera.
The Grand Scheme of Crime, an Outlook
By The Ferret
TF: Here's an exclusive interview with one of Bully Harbour's own, Grolly Jeevers. Grolly, tell me, what role did you play? Fogey? Innocent citizen? Different faction member? Or, one of those poor, not so innocent, hunted down beast of crime?
GJ: Well, see, Ah've committed a few crimes now an' then. Ah jus' work o'er at th' docks. 'ey, where’s my grog? Ah was told Ah'd get some.
TF: Later, later. I promise. Now, tell me, what did the Fogeys do to you?
GJ: Well, they weren't really 'appy. The yelled at me t' stop what Ah was doin'…
TF: Just what were you doing?
GJ: Well, Ah was takin' my pay. Y'know, Ah'd helped this little beastie move 'er thin's t' a different ship, but she wouldn't pay me! So Ah stole 'er sword. She started t' cry an' yell. That’s when th' Fogeys came over.
TF: What did they do to you?
GJ: Well, one 'it me o'er th' head with a club. Then they took my sword, which was better then the little beastie Ah took it from, an' gave it to 'er along with 'er own sword.
TF: Did they arrest you?
GJ: Well, they tried t'. Bein' uncon- unconci- un- knocked out y' really can't do t' much t' keep them from bein' arrested.
TF: What were the cells like?
GJ: Dark an' dirty an' scary. There were scary lookin' beasties that must've committed big crimes like, like murder.
TF: But you're out of jail, right?
GJ: Me buddy Savvy Ovver's bailed me out. But those Fogey types made me apologize t' th' beastie Ah took th' sword from.
TF: Well, this wasn't really as informative as I hoped it would be. Grolly, your grog's in the kitchen.
GJ: Thankee miss!
TF: Well, I'll give the folks what I know, because this article is supposed to tell you about the Martial Law and such.
Well, esteemed Gordon Freemont, husband to Captain Nouri, declared Martial Law over the city and sent his Fogeys out to get rid of all crime. Things didn't go well and all the Trenches got set on fire. Ships were sent out into the water to deliver water to extinguish the flames. Many beasts were left homeless. A group of Fogeys went into the Imperial
And! The Grace his Emperor came into the city for a record five minutes. We should all rejoice having him graced us with his presence.
This week's tidbit: The Loch Ness monster (as seen in the Bugs Issue) has not been seen. Swimming is now safe.
TF: Here's an exclusive interview with one of Bully Harbour's own, Grolly Jeevers. Grolly, tell me, what role did you play? Fogey? Innocent citizen? Different faction member? Or, one of those poor, not so innocent, hunted down beast of crime?
GJ: Well, see, Ah've committed a few crimes now an' then. Ah jus' work o'er at th' docks. 'ey, where’s my grog? Ah was told Ah'd get some.
TF: Later, later. I promise. Now, tell me, what did the Fogeys do to you?
GJ: Well, they weren't really 'appy. The yelled at me t' stop what Ah was doin'…
TF: Just what were you doing?
GJ: Well, Ah was takin' my pay. Y'know, Ah'd helped this little beastie move 'er thin's t' a different ship, but she wouldn't pay me! So Ah stole 'er sword. She started t' cry an' yell. That’s when th' Fogeys came over.
TF: What did they do to you?
GJ: Well, one 'it me o'er th' head with a club. Then they took my sword, which was better then the little beastie Ah took it from, an' gave it to 'er along with 'er own sword.
TF: Did they arrest you?
GJ: Well, they tried t'. Bein' uncon- unconci- un- knocked out y' really can't do t' much t' keep them from bein' arrested.
TF: What were the cells like?
GJ: Dark an' dirty an' scary. There were scary lookin' beasties that must've committed big crimes like, like murder.
TF: But you're out of jail, right?
GJ: Me buddy Savvy Ovver's bailed me out. But those Fogey types made me apologize t' th' beastie Ah took th' sword from.
TF: Well, this wasn't really as informative as I hoped it would be. Grolly, your grog's in the kitchen.
GJ: Thankee miss!
TF: Well, I'll give the folks what I know, because this article is supposed to tell you about the Martial Law and such.
Well, esteemed Gordon Freemont, husband to Captain Nouri, declared Martial Law over the city and sent his Fogeys out to get rid of all crime. Things didn't go well and all the Trenches got set on fire. Ships were sent out into the water to deliver water to extinguish the flames. Many beasts were left homeless. A group of Fogeys went into the Imperial
And! The Grace his Emperor came into the city for a record five minutes. We should all rejoice having him graced us with his presence.
This week's tidbit: The Loch Ness monster (as seen in the Bugs Issue) has not been seen. Swimming is now safe.
