Continuing to Work: Rolling Along

Continuing to Work: Rolling Along

Postby Treadwell » Fri Dec 19, 2014 5:29 am

Two weeks ago: the fifth day of the twelfth month, 214.

One final tick on a chart that covers a short series of pages.

Town names with councilor names under each.

"That's all of 'em, mmph mmph!"

Tap-tap of heavy finger to desk beside a thick, freshly bound ledger.

"Sixty-odd names, mmph, gathered from Myrkentown's own records and from elections taken all over the Wood for the past month and some--a full council, ready to meet!"

A glance up finds Treadwell alone. A fumbled flutter through a desk drawer finds a rarely used gavel, which gets a sharp whack-whack to the top of said desk.

"Jack!"

Squeeeeak of door after a moment.

"Y'didn't have to knock so loudly, Counc'lor!" gives bleary-eyed Jack Alldale, town crier.

"I knew you were sleeping, Jack. I heard you snoring a bit ago."

Yawwwwwwn. Quiet smack of lips. Absent scratch of paunch.

"Well, m'lord Tready, what d'ye need?"

"This!"

A loose page is held up, very carefully and neatly written unlike most of Treadwell's script.

"This is a copy of something I've already written and left in this book for my records, sir, mmph mmph. I need copies written out for all the towns in the Wood, and then I need a man to get to running 'em around. Well, all the towns except this one. I can talk to the folks here well enough, hrm hrm."

"Oh."

"Scribes, Jack. I know we have enough of them here in the town, what with all the signs and posts and letters that go up from time to time. I trust, hrm hrm, you'll gather them all up and see them all about to everyone? I'll see you're paid well enough for it."

"What is it, Counc'lor?"

"A summons! It is time to get to work, my boy!"

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Today. The nineteenth day of the twelfth month, 214.

The message sent out two weeks ago was short and simple.

All newly elected and appointed Councilors of Myrken Wood are to meet here at the Meetinghouse in Myrkentown come mid-week, the thirty-first of this month, in the morning hours. Lunch will be provided, and lodging will be available at the local inns at no cost to the Councilors if necessary. We have business to discuss, including most notably a vote on an appropriate Governor of Myrken Wood to serve as Council moderator and titular head.

By my hand,
Lord Steward Aloisius Horatio Treadwell
This fifth day of the twelfth month, 214
Myrkentown


"Y'didn't say a thing 'bout it throwing down sleet, Counc'lor!" is barked well before the squeaky hinges of Treadwell's office finish sounding their laments.

"Jack! You're home, mmph mmph!"

"I'm home! And I got your letters sent out t'folks, and I got the things delivered, and I'd like to go home to m'wife and children, but it's too cold to be out in that."

Treadwell chortles, wrapped warmly in a black, ermine-lined robe and hat, comfily stuffed into his rocking chair behind his desk.

"Is it, hm hm?"

"M'pay, m'lord Tready?"

A smile on old, wrinkled, floofy-bearded face.

"I've already sent it ahead of you yesterday to your wife, Jack. Talk to the missus, mmph mmph, to see just how much, hm?"

"Oh?"

"Handsomely paid, Jack, with some gifts from me to your children, even your Little Jack, who's, oooooh, what, about Gideon's age? Ten? Eleven?"

"He's 'round that, I think."

"Well, Jack, shoo! Go! And help me keep watch. We're supposed to be having company here--a whole lot of it, hm hm!--come the end of the month!"
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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