An open letter to the King himself!
Apr 8, 2021 9:25:26 GMT -5
DM Valkyrie, grivel, and 1 more like this
Post by publius on Apr 8, 2021 9:25:26 GMT -5
Valkur's Roar, high noon. The market street leading up to "Talbot's Plaza" is ablaze with activity. Commoners, porters, and merchants all crowd the sided of the roads, purchasing, selling, and hawking wares. Of course the adventurers were about as well, albeit in smaller numbers. It was a perfect day for a bit of conversation.
The forlorn and forgotten children of Valkur's Roar; street urchins made orphans from disease, famine, or treachery were a tragic resource to be used, but at least this time they would have enough for a meal. A few of the little bands of ragamuffins slipped through the crowd, quickly engaging in hit-and-run distribution of handbills.
"Hey mister! If y'can read, this'll pass the time while you're waitin' for that 'venturer to offload his loincloths!"
"Kind mum, I ain't got nothin' t' eat and only make coppers sellin' off these word-parchments."
"Wow! Read this! Some dirt-turner's trying to tell the King what to do!"
This activity continues for some time; the waifs are persistent, but not pushy. Being poor, young, and simple children, they would likely defer to tossing their collection of handbills and darting into the nearest alleys if confronted.
The forlorn and forgotten children of Valkur's Roar; street urchins made orphans from disease, famine, or treachery were a tragic resource to be used, but at least this time they would have enough for a meal. A few of the little bands of ragamuffins slipped through the crowd, quickly engaging in hit-and-run distribution of handbills.
"Hey mister! If y'can read, this'll pass the time while you're waitin' for that 'venturer to offload his loincloths!"
"Kind mum, I ain't got nothin' t' eat and only make coppers sellin' off these word-parchments."
"Wow! Read this! Some dirt-turner's trying to tell the King what to do!"
This activity continues for some time; the waifs are persistent, but not pushy. Being poor, young, and simple children, they would likely defer to tossing their collection of handbills and darting into the nearest alleys if confronted.
An Open Letter To The King!
"Fore word, by publius - The author of this letter's command of the common tongue rivals that of Goblins. As such, dear readers; I've taken the liberty to make corrections to wordcrafting, grammar, and structure. The spirit of the message remains intact, perhaps moreso than the original submission (I have no idea who taught this man his letters).
Your Highness,
I'm not the kind of fellow who thinks of much besides making sure my family is fed and warm, and making sure the fields are ready for planting season. I'm a simple man, with a little bit of money, but that's just enough to make sure we don't starve during another bad winter. I'm writing to you with all the respect you're due, since you're the King; but I feel like with all the important and dangerous things going on around the countryside, it might be worth letting you know how your common folk feel about the way things are going.I'm lucky enough to be able to travel the Kingdom at times when things are good, and I tend to see a few more things than the average peasant might see; and I've got to admit, it's terribly worrisome.
In Greatgaunt, we got Thayans killing the “peaceful” Orcs (I'm not so sure about them, but at least they haven't raided us since they decided to play castle up north) and getting' off with one of their slaves having to labor for the Orcs. The Red Wizard who “owned” (I hate using that word) the one who did the deed walked away with a stern talking to and a smile on his face
In Shallybrook, the Hin are stuck sharing walls with an all sorts of strange romantic entanglement of dead-lovers, a Thayan warlord, and a poor old wizard who's mind's so gone that he doesn't even know what's going on.
In Valkur's Roar, people went hungry and us growers worked our hands to the bone to recover from the damage done by battles fought and undead hordes stomping all over the crops we put our hearts and souls into, a situation that was enabled by Thayan dealings with whatever that Matthias fellow was supposed to be.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that the problems the Kingdom faces aren't just markers on a big map that Kings and advisers shift around with the changing of wind. It's felt by us small folk too. I remember the worry lines my father had on his face when we fell under old Lord Bloodstil's rule; we had to bring nearly everything to market in the city to feed the people there, got taxed to near poverty, and then had to risk the chopper's block poaching in the forests so that we could eat. All the meanwhile we had all kinds of dark dealings in the land. People going missing, strange creatures killing our livestock, and a general worry of what would happen next.
Don't get me wrong, Your Highness. I can't complain about your rule, or the job your sister did, but I just ask that you remember us little folk when you're being light on the people that have a history of troublemaking. It's usually us that has to bear the burden when they decide to find a little, out of the way hamlet to find sacrifices, slaves, or “research materials”. These folks might put on a smile and a nice face for you, but I bet, coppers to croissants that the moment they get behind closed doors and in private, there's likely a fair bit of plotting going on that's sure to result in us baseborn bearing the brunt of it. I suppose I'm just asking you to remember the men that will march with your soldiers, armed with pitchforks and hunting bows, when your Kingdom is threatened. The people that fill the larders of burghers and lords alike with the toil of their hands. The ones who don't have high walls and an army of guards protecting them. We'll never stop serving you. We just ask you do the same for us.
Begging your grace and protection,
Gunther Cooperson, Hero of the Battle of the Bird that ate all the corn That One Time
Your Highness,
I'm not the kind of fellow who thinks of much besides making sure my family is fed and warm, and making sure the fields are ready for planting season. I'm a simple man, with a little bit of money, but that's just enough to make sure we don't starve during another bad winter. I'm writing to you with all the respect you're due, since you're the King; but I feel like with all the important and dangerous things going on around the countryside, it might be worth letting you know how your common folk feel about the way things are going.I'm lucky enough to be able to travel the Kingdom at times when things are good, and I tend to see a few more things than the average peasant might see; and I've got to admit, it's terribly worrisome.
In Greatgaunt, we got Thayans killing the “peaceful” Orcs (I'm not so sure about them, but at least they haven't raided us since they decided to play castle up north) and getting' off with one of their slaves having to labor for the Orcs. The Red Wizard who “owned” (I hate using that word) the one who did the deed walked away with a stern talking to and a smile on his face
In Shallybrook, the Hin are stuck sharing walls with an all sorts of strange romantic entanglement of dead-lovers, a Thayan warlord, and a poor old wizard who's mind's so gone that he doesn't even know what's going on.
In Valkur's Roar, people went hungry and us growers worked our hands to the bone to recover from the damage done by battles fought and undead hordes stomping all over the crops we put our hearts and souls into, a situation that was enabled by Thayan dealings with whatever that Matthias fellow was supposed to be.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that the problems the Kingdom faces aren't just markers on a big map that Kings and advisers shift around with the changing of wind. It's felt by us small folk too. I remember the worry lines my father had on his face when we fell under old Lord Bloodstil's rule; we had to bring nearly everything to market in the city to feed the people there, got taxed to near poverty, and then had to risk the chopper's block poaching in the forests so that we could eat. All the meanwhile we had all kinds of dark dealings in the land. People going missing, strange creatures killing our livestock, and a general worry of what would happen next.
Don't get me wrong, Your Highness. I can't complain about your rule, or the job your sister did, but I just ask that you remember us little folk when you're being light on the people that have a history of troublemaking. It's usually us that has to bear the burden when they decide to find a little, out of the way hamlet to find sacrifices, slaves, or “research materials”. These folks might put on a smile and a nice face for you, but I bet, coppers to croissants that the moment they get behind closed doors and in private, there's likely a fair bit of plotting going on that's sure to result in us baseborn bearing the brunt of it. I suppose I'm just asking you to remember the men that will march with your soldiers, armed with pitchforks and hunting bows, when your Kingdom is threatened. The people that fill the larders of burghers and lords alike with the toil of their hands. The ones who don't have high walls and an army of guards protecting them. We'll never stop serving you. We just ask you do the same for us.
Begging your grace and protection,
Gunther Cooperson, Hero of the Battle of the Bird that ate all the corn That One Time