Hell Hath No Fury....

[Dhugal]

He lifts a brow at her. “And just what makes you think that if there’s
an attack and people outside the Wall should for some reason seek
shelter within, that the people inside, rich and poor alike, will welcome
them within to weather a siege, where sharing their supplies means that
there will be less for them? People…are people. No one’s perfect, not
me, not you, not the Governor. But see? I’ve made you THINK, haven’t
I? Too many people around here sit back on their arses like the Council
does and they accept what they’re told without question.â€

[Euphemia]

She considers that question for a time, then simply smiles. "What makes you think they won't? I prefer to believe that people will band together in times of need. Besides, what will they do? Throw them out? I'm pretty sure the constabulary frowns on the equivalent of murder -- presuming that they survived the fall, mind."

"And that's the nature of life. Uncertainty. A legion of orcs could come by to kill you right now. You could be hit by a cart. You could be run down by a horse. Anything can happen, and there's no such thing as a perfect defense. But there are ways to skew the nature of probability in your favor. In fact, I propose that the opposite will happen; that by nature people want the most gain for the least amount of work. They come by and see a walled town with guards and who knows what else? They'll pass it by in favor of easier fare. If they do decide to storm the walls, at least you have them. Perhaps I'm simply an ignorant foreigner, but it seems spurious to argue against something that will help people when your alternative is to let them do as they will, whether that be wholesale slaughter, the molestation of your children or picking the town clean of anything even remotely valuable."

"Myrken is a province of Trae Kelsa, is it not? You don't consider that permanent seizure? Up 'till now no one has brought an army along to try and change that, from what I understand."

"Hm. I don't remember the government saying it was good. I remember them suggesting that you should not fear it, that it was a construction ordered by them, that it was put in place for the security and protection of the people in Myrkentown, but not that it was *good*. You suggest we shouldn't believe what the government tells us, though. What is your suggested alternative for that?"

But here she looks terribly concerned. "Ah, they took land from people? That's terrible! Why would they do such a thing?"

"And if they're already in Myrken, then they'd need to eat anyway. Perhaps the government set aside money for the army. I'd heard that Councilor.. ah, what was his name.. started with an 'A'. Alphonse? Abernathy? Al-something. Ah, yes! I'd heard that Councilor Aldred financed that Brotherhood of Janeiro all on his own. Maybe he's doing essentially the same thing here. I'm not in charge of Myrken's finances, though, so I cannot say with any certainty. And why is there such a shortage of food, if you don't mind my asking?"

"And I don't think I ever suggested a wall would solve everything. Merely that it might be the first step on whatever road the Governor and Council wish to travel."

[Dhugal]

“I’m afraid, Mistress, I’ve been made skeptical of human nature by
past events. When my parents were dying in Myrken, why would a
Councilor, Suede Roschen by name, try to block a wagon of food
being sent to the Remedium, even fire crossbow bolts at it?. Of
course the wagon was being driven byâ€

[Euphemia]

She listens quietly, looking more befuddled by the moment, brow furrowing in her puzzlement. "I didn't think there was a man named Suede Roschen on the Council currently. And why would people think that.. was it Pritchites? Who are those? And why would people think they were evil and nasty? I do find myself somewhat skeptical of your line of reasoning, but only because you aren't really explaining anything."

"And.. uh.. technically fortifications make it easier for a smaller number of people to defend a given area, so without the wall they'd need an even larger army. That's my understanding, anyway. ..if they train common folk to be soldiers, aren't they eating the food they would have eaten anyway? And you're surprised? Would that suggest the governor has some sort of morals, then?"

"You never did explain why there's so little food. Or why the government is taking the land away." Or a number of other things, but perhaps he's grown tired of debating the extraneous points. "I'm sorry if I'm asking for so much, but I'd really like to understand your point of view. It's just hard when I don't know all these things."

[Dhugal]

Mathias grimaces slightly. “The Pritchites…they were farmers who,
well, some of them, had some strange ideas about a man who was
a bartender at the Dagger. A new tavern wench got into an argument
with Brother Cythwyllthfyr, one of the other staff threatened Cyth,
next thing you know, the Pritchites were boycotting the tavern. Suede,
I don’t know what his angle was…it’s a long story. Folks in town
were talking crazy, lighting fires near there farms, and finally the
Pritchites left. Gone somewhere east, in Derry , by the Siskatoon
Mountains. They used to send food and supplies to the monastery
for us to give out to the town when the crops were bad the last few
years. They’ve been doing well out there, I guess.â€

[Euphemia]

"Hm. I see. So they left behind their farms over an argument they had a part in starting to go somewhere else, and then send back food to help the people that might not need help if they had stayed. That makes.. some sort of sense in a circular, self-defeating fashion. And then the government takes the land being held in their trust, the land that they had abandoned -- which no doubt had some effect on the current shortage of food -- in order to.. see it put to use feeding the people of Myrken, perhaps? Actually I know that's what the plan to do since I'm in charge of an irrigation project for all the fields in Myrken Wood." Thoughtfully she peers up towards the sky, rubbing at one pale cheek. "Actually I am rather curious about your opinions in all this, which is why I bothered to ask in the first place. If you don't mind, might I walk with you for a time? What happened to Father Abbot?" She inquires with some concern. "And the government didn't pay for the land or anything of that nature?"

[Dhugal]

The look he gives her now is sharper. “There was already trouble
with the crops closer to town. The Bates and the others who lived
further from town had wells or brought some water in, and they
sent food into town with us to be distributed under the protection
of the Straka Guards. Even after they left, and they wouldn’t have
if someone, Suede Roschen or some crazy townspeople, hadn’t
burned John Bates’ fields. John’s wife, Mary, had a sharp tongue
and people didn’t much like her in town. They had families and
children, so they left.â€

[Euphemia]

"Ah, I see. I didn't mean to cause offense. I will admit that the way the matter was handled could have been better, but the Governor is interested in having usable farmland used, not sitting idle. Have the Pritchites inquired about buying it back from the government instead of the church?"

"And at the time I was more focused on helping the people of Myrken rather than whom said what to whom and why those people over there decided to leave. In doing so I would receive the things that I need, which would be a roof over my head and something to eat. While I have remained absolutely intent on continuing to do this, since I've settled in things have relaxed and I've a bit more time to fill in missing gaps in my knowledge. By the by, I actually get paid very little compared to other members of the government. I make about 50 shillings a week."

"I am. Our positive and negative reputations should combine to make us both neutrally regarded. Hm. I hadn't considered it as an artistic medium. Do you think people would be more favorably inclined if a variety of interesting sceneries were painted upon it by local artists?"

[Dhugal]

“What, and take away all the fun the urchins might have?â€

[Dhugal]

There were times when Fidelius wondered if there such things as calms
before storms in Myrken. He’d barely had time to digest Mathias’ report
of his conversation with an inquisitive young woman after a play
performance and that the father of the dead Constable had also been
a playgoer, albeit not a happy one.

Then came word of the latest rampage by the Ashfiend, well within
the protection of the Governor’s Wall.

And now, this morning, a report of eight black clad men atop the
hill overlooking town. Word of that had come from one of the
bell ringers who’d noticed them from his perch in the belltower
when he climbed up to do his duty and summon the brothers
to their morning prayers. Now he found himself in the company
of the Father Abbot who’d climbed up the small stairs to see for
himself.

“What do you think they are doing up there?â€

[Dhugal]

“Father Abbot Fidelius?â€

[Dhugal]

When the group searching for the Ashfiend in the area closest to St.
Thecla’s reached the gate marking the entrance to the Monastery
grounds, they found it wellguarded by six rather formidable looking
monks, all of them men who’d had military experience before they
retired to a life of contemplation. Each of them is armed with a staff
and bottles of holy water.



One stepped forward and nodded to the townsfolk. “That’s far enough.
We have no Ashfiend here.â€

[Dhugal]

Mathias slipped as quietly and as unobtrusively as he could into the
Common Room where most of the monks were gathered in prayer for
safety of those hunting the Ashfiend and made his way up to where
Abbot Fidelius was kneeling. He crouched beside the older man and
leaning closer, murmured into his ear. “The sounds of the fighting
have stopped.â€

[Dhugal]

A few mornings after the fight on the road and the Ashfiend’s
assault on the Shepherd Knights, Matthias stood on the walls of St.
Thecla’s Monastery scowling out towards the walls of Myrkentown.

His wall.

Calomel’s Wall.

Matthias snarled something to himself as he put up the cowl of his
novice’s habit to cover his head. The last of the wounded townsfolk
that had been brought here from the fight on the road had recovered
enough to be sent on to the Remedium and Matthias at last had the
luxury of a few moments to think in the quiet up here in the chilly wind.
The word from town was that the Governor was already gathering allies
for another fight with the Ashfiend. And last night there’d been that
strange tale of some large group of fat men visiting Councilor
Treadwell, and of large amounts of food being delivered to a long
abandoned house where Treadwell had been taken.

“Pigs!â€

[Dhugal]

With the coming of Spring and warmer weather came the first
performances of a new farce staged under the shade of the trees
and entitled "TAKEALL'S LOSS". The main characters are
much the same as in the earlier farces except that MISTRESS
SWEETUMS is now LADY SWEETUMS TAKEALL in observance
of her marriage to GOVERNOR TAKEALL.

The play opens at a party where the Governor and his Lady host the
members of the Council and several of the Lady's female associates
who are sitting on the Councilor's laps. Only Councilor EATWELL
is without a maid, and a great part of the scene is played out with
one bouncing off his considerable stomach as she tries to take a
seat.

The occasion for the party is the imprisonment of TAKEALL's
enemy, KANNOTLINGER at Fort Sumpter. A sudden loud horn
blast announces the arrival of LORD RIGHTSTANDER from the
capital who is aghast at the scene before him:

RIGHTSTANDER: "Governor, what is the meaning of this?"

TAKEALL: (as he tries to signal the girls to get off his guests laps)
"Umm. Just taking afternoon tea with my Councilors,
m' Lord."

RIGHTSTANDER (moves quickly as the unfortunate maid once more
bounces off EATWELL'S stomach) "Tea? TEA? That's not
what this looks liek to me. You may call this "tea" but in the
capital we call this a disgrace!"

Eventually RIGHTSTANDER gets down to business and produces a
pardon for CANNOTLINGER and demands his immediate release,
much to the Governor's chagrin. Despite TAKEALL's arguments and
a threat to hold his breath until he turns purple, it is decided that the
entire group will go to Fort Sumpter to release the prisoner.

The second act takes place at Fort Sumpter where two befuddled
prison guards stand outside KANNOTLINGER' S cell. The prisoner
looks out from the barred window and makes some very strange
requests.

KANNOTLINGER: "Be good fellows and fetch me some rope, will
you?"

GUARD1: "Rope? What do you need rope for?"

KANNOTLINGER: "Um...to hang myself...yes...to hang myself."

GUARD2: "Use your shirt"

KANNOTLINGER: "It's cold in here. I do not wish to die cold."

GUARD1(rolls his eyes) "Alright. Anything else?"

KANNOTLINGER: "A Ladder. I cannot reach the ceiling to tie the
rope."
One by one the prisoner request things that anyone except the guards
might see can be used for escaping the cell until finally he requests
a saddle and bridle.

GUARD1: "Bluidy hell, what do you need them for?"

KANNOTLINGER: "Um...sentimental reasons?"

Shouts announce the arrival of TAKEALL, RIGHTSTANDER and the
rest. But when the cell door is opened KANNOTLINGER is gone and
all hell breaks loose. EATWELL tries to enter the cell and becomes
stuck in the door, GOVERNOR TAKEALL shouts that Fort Sumpter
should be torn apart stone by stone, and LADY SWEETUMS swoons.
As the GUARDS and COUNCILLORS run about the stage looking
for the escaped prisoner, KANNOTLINGER walks in and then leaves
arm in arm with RIGHTSTANDER as the curtain rings down.

Afterwards, a silent novice helps the players strike the set. Matthias
still might not be talking but his pen is far from quiet.