Dearest Felicitus,
Thank you for your kind thoughts in my hour of need. Oh how the mighty have
fallen! To think that a careless remark likening Moonson's buttocks to his
mother's orb could be so ill taken. (Curse my loose tongue! You would
think
that I would have better things to do at an orgy than to come up with
witticisms).
Exile is a harsh punishment, I feel, considering the crime. I fear that
like a
fragile moon flower I shall wilt and perish away from the benign gaze of our
beloved emperor. And what of Glamour? Shall I see it again before I die?
I hope you will continue to petition Moonson on my behalf and assure him of
my full repentance. (And that I shall endeavour to keep a tighter rein on
my
tongue from now on). But I implore you do not risk bringing Moonson's
displeasure down on yourself! Tread lightly lest, like me, you bring his
fury
down on your own head.
It is actually amusing in a extremely painful sort of way that one such as I
who once trailed in the wake of majesty has now been thrust into exile.
Whereas before I lived in Glamour, the most magnificent city in all
Glorantha
and visited awe-inspiring hellholes like Alkoth or beautiful places like
Jillaro
I am now reduced to visiting pig stys (literally) like the place I am
currently
visiting. It is called Elkoi and it is on the very fringes of the Empire,
in fact
technically we are only here to support the local monarch, a slug called
Glyptus the Good, whose grandfather was put on the throne by Lunar forces.
The reality of course is that this Glyptus cannot squeeze a boil (of which
he
has many I am sure) without our approval. (I imagine he would have to be
shown how to do something as complicated as boil bursting in the first
place).
We are building a cute little temple to the Seven Mothers here and
missionaries are trying to slap a veneer of Lunar culture on the locals like
you would slap a coat of paint on an outhouse. I had the dubious pleasure of dining with King Good for Nothing and his equally dubious family as well as with the local Lunar notables. These notables ran the full gamut of the
usual cast you meet in the provinces, ranging from well meaning but
misguided moony-eyed optimists to jaded, cycnical opportunists just waiting
to get out of the place and back somewhere more interesting. Dinner was an
immense bore and involved some of the worst dreck and swill that has ever
crossed my plate. Afterwards I was given a tour of the town and was shown
the sights. The walls are made up of immense blocks of stone that the
locals
claim were laid by giants. They are nothing compared to the battlements of
Alkoth, never mind those of Glamour, but they are interesting enough I
suppose.
Between the walls are crammed the houses of most of the inhabitants, a
primitive, superstitious bunch of savages who have the endearing habit of
keeping pigs in their houses. Unfortunately proper sanitation seems to be
limted to the Lunar compound being constructed outside the main walls.
Just charming. I was assured that Elkoi is the very height of culture and
sophistication in Balazar compared to the other two citadels so the Goddess
keep me from ever visiting them! The whole place seems like something
out of the distant past. I'm sure our distant ancestors lived much like
this.
(Though I am positive they must have smelled better!) All in all a place I
would not care to spend a lot of time in. Oddly enough though I am told
that parties of Lunar nobles regularly come to Balazar in order to hunt
and to get back to nature.
I have resolved to steel myself to exile and make sure that I continue to be a worthy representative of the Empire. I plan to travel east as far as I can go and I will continue to send you letters from the places I visit.
Take good care of yourself and be well!
Your friend,
Fresser
(Late of Glamour)
Oliver D. Bernuetz
www.geocities.com/bernuetz
bernuetz.oliver_at_cbsc.ic.gc.ca
End of The Glorantha Digest V7 #460
Powered by hypermail