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Petrus A Breath of Fresh Air, But Little More
Gerard Mandeville
Tuesday, May 14, 1780
Telembria Telegraph Editorial
Rathaleo, Telembria – There is little doubt that the candidacy of Philip Petrus is an invigorating breath of fresh air on the Telembrian political landscape. Dominated by the Nationalist and Commonwealth parties, most voting Telembrians believed the possibility of a “third party” was a mere dream. What other positions, after all, were there to take on the issues of the day that have not been fully addressed by the two major parties? Petrus, fueled by plenty of money and honeyed words to the lower voting classes, has shown us, in the words of his campaign slogan: “There Is Always Another Way"
In ecoomics, Petrus has shown us that stable Nationalist financing of the government mixed with amendable finance of Commonwealth social programs are not mutually exclusive. In civil rights, Petrus brings a fresh take of reasonableness to both parties’ increasing extremes of complete freedom vs. government control. In lawmaking, Petrus presents an astoundingly detailed platform that defies conventional notions of the complexity of governance. In foreign affairs, Petrus avoids labelling good and evil in other nations; instead opting for a tact arguably more fair than demonizing or beatifying foreign powers.
Petrus’ campaign has been a gentle, cleansing breeze and opens our eyes to new possibilities and different ways of thinking. But with sweet air comes a reminder of how sour politics – our politics – has become. Petrus has embarrassed us by pointing out our reliance on either/or propositions, and frightened us by exposing the corruption of the people we repeatedly elect. There are more than a few citizens who do not respond well to embarrassment and fear. The extreme wings of the Nationalist and Commonwealth parties have reacted with retreat into further extremism, as frightened wolves would back into their cave.
Take, for instance, Nationalist candidate Elsin I's most recent comments regarding Petrus: “I believe the limited success he has had is on the backs of the less educated citizens of Telembria, by filling their minds with fanciful notions that simply do not work in the real world. Most educated people understand that experienced government officials are needed to navigate an increasingly complex political landscape.”
Commonwealth candidate Anda Fallow puts it thus:“If you look at the construction of his platform, it is shaky at best. Thrown together by inexperienced carpenters, it is painfully obvious to the naked eye that his platform will not hold the weight of any decent Telembrian, and crowding on to it would be an act of insanity, as it would not but splinter into so many pieces. It is, frankly, a waste of time that draws away real construction, real debate, and no more worthy of comment than a Durlothic fairy tale.”
To be a supporter of Petrus then, according to the esteemed candidates, is to be either uneducated or insane. These are visceral reactions, attempting to dismiss Petrus out of hand, claiming that his views are so extreme that they do not qualify an opinion. While this has worked in the past against fringe candidates like Howard Cobben in the mid-1700s, it does not appear to be working against Petrus, who is an infinitely better public speaker than Cobben. Whatever one may think of his stances on political issues, Petrus does not strike one as anything but reasonable, while Nationalist and Commonwealth factions become increasingly shrill.
However, the reality is that the latest polling of the populace show Petrus a distant third, with only 24% of the vote (a high watermark for him) entering the late stages of the contest, with Elsin I and Fallow in a dead heat at 37% each. Like Cobben, Petrus will likely be little more than a footnote in Telembrian politics. Be that as it may, it is good – perhaps even proper – to give him his due. May the freshness of his ideas, however brief, spur us to recognize just how stale we have become.
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Mr. Philip Petrus
Lucid Party Campaign Headquarters
3800 Velsetto Drive
Rathaleo, Telembria
August 23, 1780
My dearest Philip,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits! Though I miss you terribly, I know it is but a small price to sacrifice for the good of the nation, which I know you have penultimate in your heart, second only to GOD’s will.
Marquette has done a fabulous job of maintaining the farm in your absence, though some of the workers have complained that he is a much harsher taskmaster than his father. He may be overcompensating to atone for his inexperience, but then I always have thought you treated the workers too genially.
I have, of course, kept up with all your travels and speeches in the papers. Depending on which newspaper I read, you are either Telembria’s savior or its doom. Needless to say, the Gazette seems the more reliable of the two, giving more favorable coverage than the Post.
And now, my darling, I cannot put off any longer the main reason for my letter. Though it pains me to know this will be a distraction to you, I feel I cannot in good conscience keep this from you. Two nights ago, Ryne MacAlister and another police officer brought Rain Elyse to our door. It seems she was drinking heavily and creating a disturbance and, well, not behaving at all like a respectable lady of nineteen.
According to Mr. MacAlister, there was an argument of some sort at the local drinking establishment between Rain Elyse and five gentlemen (though they certainly were NOT), which turned into an all-out brawl. I was mortified, to be sure; there was no part of me that did not wish I could sink unseen through the floor. However, I believe there will be a part of you that will be (I hesitate to say it though I know it to be true) in some way proud of the fact that four of the five men ended up in Doctor Vietris house to be stitched up. The fifth, Mr. MacAlister said, have escaped injury solely from the fact that, when the melee began, he was the one who ran and retrieved the authorities.
As you might expect, Marquette was furious at his sister, but even still, I had to talk to him for some time in a (thankfully) successful effort to keep him from heading into the early morning hours to exact some revenge on her opponents.
I am grateful to Mr. MacAlister for his discretion and it is only your friendship with him that saved us from incredible scandal, I am sure!
Philip, please write to your daughter and exhort her to behave as her age and rank should dictate. You are the only one she has ever listened to. I am afraid my patience is at an end and when I spoke to her the next day, I found myself using words unbecoming.
Thank you, my love and I am sorry that I should relay this news; yet better me than some splenetic, spiteful reporter.
Your devoted wife,
Angeline
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The Telembrian
September 21, 1786
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"...election. The Act, which prohibits a candidate from campaigning if the
candidate is not a Commonwealth or Nationalist party member in good
standing, took effect in June 1782 in a non-publicized vote. Petrus stated
his intention to run for national office yet again, in spite of the Act. “I cannot,
with any good conscience, allow our government to repossess the liberty that
has heretofore been claimed, through much anguish, by the people of this great
nation. I especially cannot do so, when that liberty is reclaimed for the false
assumption that the citizens are not to be trusted.” King’s President Anda
Fallow defended the law and warned those who would “upon a whim, dis-
regard the sacred rule of law that has guided Telembrian principles since the ..."
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[This letter is believed to be unread by the intended recipient. It was found during renovations of a home in the heart of Rathaleo in 1841.]
Mr. Philip Petrus
Telembrian Justice Department
200 Palumbus Street
Rathaleo, Telembria
December 20, 1787
Dearest Father,
I trust this letter will find its way to your hands and that the fascist monsters who currently rule the government will not censure, as they have claimed not to do. Rest assured, you are not forgotten, nor are your efforts in vain. There is an outcry throughout Telembria for justice, and for your release from imprisonment. I am my Father's daughter in my skepticism - as I have said, people will turn a blind eye to injustice after injustice until the sum is too great to be ignored or the people too few to make a difference. The sum, I say confidently, has become too great.
And that is why I am leading the march on Rathaleo several weeks hence. By the time you read this, we will already be on our way, 10000 strong, and demand to be heard. We will be heard. Our friends in other provinces are marching similar numbers, and we are doing our best to coordinate our efforts. It is difficult over the miles, and we have lost more than one messenger to the President-King's army.
Our spies tell us the King's army is gath'ring in Rathaleo, so we do not anticipate much in the way of a surprise. However, our numbers are larger already than most of the estimates in the Telembrian and the Telegraph. Trust me, Father, I have no youthful ideas that this will be easy, or even that many of us will return alive. But we must. Your imprisonment is only the last of many straws.
I must close, for I have much to prepare. Mother sends her love and is busy baking and sewing for the march. She frets as always, and as you know, I cannot fully reassure her. But she is a woman of principle, and is steadfastly supporting the cause. Marquette sends his love as well.
Your daughter,
Rain
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Petrus Wins With 'Write in Vote'
Government Declares Result Illegal, Awards Re-Election to Fallow.
December 31, 1787
Rathaleo, Telembria - In a stunning margin of victory, illegal third-party candidate Phillip Petrus received more votes Sunday than either official candidate on the ballot. Petrus was stricken from the official ballot in September and arrested for illegal campaigning on the grounds of violating the Voter Rights Protection Act of 1782.
Inside sources say that nearly 60 percent of the ballots had a handwritten entry of Petrus scribbled on the bottom of the ballot, either with a checkmark or 'x' signifying Petrus as their choice for President-King. That percentage could actually be higher given that counters were actively encouraged to find reasons to reject write-in votes.
"At first we tried to discount any of the votes we could," said Dew Bentley, a counter for the Fair Folk province of Telembria. "We weren't sure if they were legal or not, but all of us, once we saw the overwhelming number of votes, felt we could not in good conscience overlook what the ballots were telling us."
Yesterday, once word reached the capital that Petrus had been chosen, the legislature called an emergency meeting to determine how to proceed. Late last night, a statement was issued from the Telembrian government that declared the write-in votes "illegal in accordance with the Voter Rights Protection Act of 1782" and that upholding Petrus as the victor would "set a terrible precident that would harm the constituency irrecovocably for years to come." Further, it stated that "based on legal votes, President-King Fallow has retained office, and is the official victor of this election."
Reaction from people on the streets of Rathaleo was one of .... [further unreadable]
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Journal of General Thom Phoster
Monarch's Hill, Rathaleo, Telembria
January 12, 1788
All is quiet now, but the din of battle still rings in my ears. I am trapped in a foxhole just outside of the capitol building, pinned down by Petrus and his traitorous dogs. I don't know by what means he is no longer in prison, but I thought it well and good that he should be leading the rebels himself. Cut off the head and the body dies. When the savages crested Monarch's Hill and I spied Petrus at the lead, I ordered a full charge of our troops.
We did not know - I did not know - how well armed they were, but moreso I was not expecting the sheer numbers. Our intelligence told us 5,000 strong, and it appeared they were correct. But after several hours of fighting, they had to have suffered at least that number of casualties. To my dismay it looked as if there were more standing than when we began. It wasn't until later that we learned they were being reinforced by other traitors marching from different areas of our fine country. We believed the reports were of one or two groups of 5,000, when in reality, there must have been at least ten separate groups.
A few soldiers from the battalion I sent to circle behind the crowds were able to make it back and report the complete failure of our maneuver. They closed in too soon, and another group came upon them and attacked. It was then that I lost my utmost confidence in our prospects for rebuffing the riotous animals.
When we began receiving reports of Rathaleo citizens leaving their homes and siding with the rebels, it dispirited even the best of my captains. I gave explicit instructions that they not let the troops know and to continue to command in confidence. Though even as I gave the order, I had no idea how it possible to keep it, such was the look of crestfallness of my men. By sundown, we were falling back towards the capitol and entrenched here.
January 13, 1788
Fighting has once again died down as night falls on the capital. We are heavily entrenched but running dangerously low on food and supplies. Worse, we are cut off from further retreat, as the capitol building is alight and half to ashes as I write.
My only solace is that Petrus has fallen. He personally led the traitors in a charge of our position early this morning. I despise the man for tearing our nation apart, and he deserves the same death five thousand times over for the lives he has cost.
The men lining these trenches received new life as word passed of his death. Conversely, the traitors began to scatter, and I was scarcely able to stay the order to pursue. I believed in my heart that it was a momentous turn of events once the scandalous Petrus met his just end.
However, the stubborn peasant army did not retreat fully, only regrouped, and I can no longer say with confidence that it is only by luck and numbers they are achieving this victory over professional soldiers. For the remainder of today into this evening, they have been patiently and methodically winnowing down our numbers.
I am, truth be told, considering a surrender to avoid losing every last man. But my mind is tired, and I have nearly three days with little rest. I will delay until the dawn, and evaluate the situation then.
January 14, 1788
My heart is heavy as we have received word from the rebels that they accept our surrender. At 1000, less than an hour from now, we will emerge from our fortifications with hands raised. A most unjust end for this once great army.
While I have assurances that our men will be treated fairly, I have no idea if these rebels will be true to their word. I must expect that they will abide by the rules of combat. I do know a select few men who threw in with Petrus to be honorable, however misguided they may be. I can only hope that they, or men like them, are across the sea of bodies that lie on this battleground.
If they are not; if their treachery transcends the bounds of honor and basic human decency; and I am killed, I ask with all humility that this message be delivered to my beloved wife, Loly:
It is in the last hours of this conflict and perhaps even my life, that I think only of your love, which has kept me strong these many long years. I am undeserving of your love, wretch that I can be, and I am sorry that I could not return to you.
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As I Remember, As It Was
The Autobiography of Rain Elyse Petrus
Chapter 12
Since Monarch’s Hill, I have had countless nights tossing and turning. My thoughts torture me, some sad and tearful, some angry and defiant. Regardless of the emotion that accompany them, all are fixated on what I could have done differently that might not have ended in father’s death. I’ve replayed the unending number of decisions I made that day, wondering which might have changed the outcome. And as my mind spins an alternate reality, the outcome of this brutal exercise always ends the same way – torment that I did not say or do whate’er the perfect thing to keep my father from leading that charge.
In the harsh light of day, I’ve come to realize that the truth is that I don’t know what would have happened had we arrived earlier. Father was resolute once he chose his path, and one had no indication whether he would accept or reject counsel except by offering it. It is more than likely he would have marched, regardless of anything I could have said or done, and it is equally as likely that I would have been right beside him if he did. But as much as I doubt and twist over my role in the death of my father, I had no such problems in the face of the news.
When we arrived to find that the march had erupted into outright war, and with our citizens retreating past us, my heart sank. I was finally able to stop one of the frightened rebels, who confirmed what I had feared.
“Petrus is fallen,” he said, his eyes wide with fear. “All is lost!”
I have read accounts where I physically assaulted the man. But in truth, he disappeared back into the retreating crowd before I had a chance to consider any such action. For a moment, I dealt with the insanity of a war I did not expect, and a death that I did not foresee. Perhaps foolishly on both accounts. Twenty thousand troops at my back certainly slowed the retreat, but I knew we needed every possible citizen to succeed.
I do not recall what I said or at what point the retreating citizens began to pay attention. It was nothing particularly novel or, in my mind, inspiring. It was simply that I continued. I have found that, when one seeks a response, one needs to only continue with consistent fervor until someone responds. There is no need, as has been said by some, to escalate. Escalation expends more energy and thus shortens the capable duration of the action. As one invariably pauses to refuel, listeners move on. Better to continue at equilibrium and have your voice be a constant, rather than alternatively shrill and silent.
That is why I say it was not important what I said. In truth, there was nothing different than what I usually said when rallying the citizens to protest and to march against the injustice of the government. The important thing is that I continued to speak until the crowd slowed, then halted their retreat, even as some previously in retreat made their way back.
When I had their attention, I refocused them and bid them to regroup instead of retreat. I knew my twenty would help get the rest into our live free or die frame of mind, but they would have to do so on limited time.
Soon, we had scouts back on watch, and my leaders and I talked strategy. Once we found that the King's Army had not come out of their trenches for nearly 24 hours, I saw my father's rationale. They were weak, and better to attack now, before hidden loyalists or hired mercenaries came in to even things up. It was a smart move, but it failed because my father did not think highly enough of his leadership. I would have likely made the same mistake.
With his example as a warning I decided to keep our leaders back. In fact, with the fragile psyche of the rebels, there was only one way to proceed - cautiously. Wait them out while slowly picking off targets of opportunity as they showed themselves. The chance for the loyalists or mercenaries was still there, but if the King's Army had not called for them after reports of fifteen or sixteen groups of ten and twenty thousand rebels days earlier, they would not call them now.
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Chapter 14
General Phoster came out last, the coward. Even as his troops raised the surrender and filed neatly into rows -safely and securely, as promised - Phoster remained in the filth of the ditch rather than face his victorious enemy. And when he did climb out - oh, the drama, the drama - chest puffed out with a look of contemptuous on his face that we would not cast at a barn rat. He walked slowly across the battlefield, past his own men, and right up to me. He stood at attention and pulled out his cutlass. Holding it in two hands as if a priceless work of art, he tilted his head slightly and pushed it forward to me. This was a man notorious for killing men, women and children without a second thought, viewing them as numbers to be eliminated rather than lives connected to each other - yes, even to him - through the web of life.
It is often said of villain and hero alike in the Durlothic fairy tales - when all else is lost, they ask "only for their dignity." Heroes, and admittedly, even some villains are correct that civilized society owes them that. General Phoster was not one of those men. Yet as I was standing there, watching this wicked man do his best impression of humility; standing completely still in that pose, I could not see him as an object, a character, or even problem to be solved. He was still a human, and in that way connected to us all.
I reached out and took his cutlass and did a curtsy that would have made mother weep with joy - respectful and without flourish. The General looked up slightly with faux surprise on his face. "Ah," he said, "so true to your word. How delightful." He paused for a moment and placed his finger on his chin. "You know, it is a struggle to believe that you are the daughter of Philip Petrus."
"How so, citizen?" Oh, did his face turn red when I addressed him as such.
"Because a mongrel bitch seldom sires a single mongrel bitch, but rather..." And that is where I interrupted and shot him in the face.
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The Telembrian
January 15, 1788
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Carter Lathroller
June 10, 1788
Dear and Respected Brother,
I am sorry that I have not had the oppertunity to write until this moment and ask for your patients with both the timing and the qality of my writing and spelling. My journey has been unnecessarely long and I have not yet reached my stake
I arrived at the border three days after I left you on 4 May, only to find my wait would continue. There were so many folks eagr to claim citizenchip in the new Republic I have never seen such a cue - at least two mile long and no esaggeration. Conditions were as you would espect of many mounts and people in the hot sun for days, and at points I thought I might die of the smell. I joined in with four other fellows there without companions to play cards in order to pass the time.
The Telembrian officeals operating the border were not happy to be there, and no suprise A man in front of me a short way was cruely treated and they tried to take certain possesshions until another man came to his aid and talked them out of it. I took note that the man was of slight manner, not making eye contact and seeming generally ill at ease. When came my turn, I stood tall and looked straight and confident, though I was quite frightend. I made it through without incident, tho I did not receive well wishes from them
My four new friends made it through as well, though one did have a Laje that was taken. I said he was lucky he didn't end up in the prisons or stocks, but he was very unhappy.
It was a shock to walk into the wildlands, as the jungle closed in quickly and blocked out all signs of civilisation There was quite the trail already made, but narrow, and we all remarked how slow it must have been for the Mestovim Party in those first days of April. I had hoped that there would be an opening before nightfall, but it was not the case that night or the following. Worse, there was no way around those who stopped to camp for the night, so our travel was all the more slower.
We were not long after rising the second morning when a surly crew with machetes, frustrated by the slow pace, decided to carve a trail in the parallel to the left. They were moving quickly and with purpose. As they passed, some folks, including us, moved behind them, and from there on we moved more quickly, with the slowers staying on the right and the less encumberd on the left.
Finally on the fifth morning the dense jungle gave way to open land, and the trails turned into a wide berth. From there it was less than a day to the settlement, which they have called Novum. Travel slowed once again as we were told we must register our names before entering the settlement. We waited into the next day, tho it did not seem as long as it seemed leaving Telembria. While we were still in line, they had folks tell lus we were to be asked how far we espected to go and in what direction - southeast, west or straight south, and we would be provided documents that they said would allow us to stake claim in that area.
Seeing large mountains in the distance to the south, my companyons and I decided to go to the west, and, all of us being somewhat of adventurers, to go as far as were permitted. I was first to speak at the register point, stated my name and said I would like to go west ten days travel. The woman taking the information told us that eight days was the maximum, what with scouts having reported that a natives civilisation was past that point. So we agreed to eight and received our documents.
There was some talk with my traveling companyons of taking new names. I was asked and espressed that I have not heard of such a thing, but in any event I liked my name as it was. Two in our party did give new names and as best I could tell it was in concern that the Telembrians may change their mind, get the list and track us down, though there was also a sentiment of starting anew. I later learned that they had been criminals in Telembria, sentences served, but more sense made on why they changed their names.
Before we left Novum the next evening,one of the building they were working on collapsed, and many, including us, ran to aid. There were three dead all told, and seven more injured. They offered room and board in the recently completed hotel for a weeks work. The five of us talked and decided to take the offer. We have worked this week and though the week is up tomorrow, they have asked us to stay another week. It was such an argument that I thought we may go our separate ways, but eventually we agreed for one more week, no longer.
I will write again, soon as I have oppertunity and more to tell. Give my best to Melindra and also to Mother.
G.K. Lathroller
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Willaer Brentow
December 22, 1788
Cousin Willaer,
I have acquired a job with the railway as you suggested. I was as unsure then as when I left, whether to seek employment as a Telembrian citizen or Order citizen. Just after we entered a corridor with chain fences on either side, the line spit in two - left to work as a Telembrian or right as an Order citizen. My adventurous blood having been stirred by the travel, I stepped to the right. But as I took the step, no less than 3x5 Telembrian citizens were standing off to the side and began taunting me, telling me I was a traitor, and insinuating I was of below average intelligence. Then someone behind shouted at the [illegible], and I was suddenly glad we were on opposite sides of the chain fence. I was about to engage in some shouting of my own, but I thought better of it. The worst thing to do in this economy would be to get neither job. So I continued to the right and with such little thought made a heady decision. Nothing to be done about it now.
It is one of them more difficult jobs I have had, with the possible exception of the mining I did at Daro'Noel when I was 3x9+1. At least here I have a contract for work and [illegible] from that [illegible] until 1800, with the possibility of working beyond. We have also received paychecks each week on time, with the correct amounts. The money is in 'Trios,' which I understand is something to do with Three. More importantly, 'Trios' are the only currency accepted once you cross into the jungle. I went with another worker named Frant to one of the makeshift stores along the trail, and true to [illegible], they accepted the "trios." In fact, when Frant wanted to buy an extra portion of dried meat using some Telembrian money he had brought, they turned it down cold. They told him he would have to go to Novum if he wanted to exchange it, and from the looks we got from others in the store, it is probably a good idea.
Jungle rails beats desert rails, but only by a tick. We have a lot of delays, which is good for resting. Then we'll hear an explosion or some [illegible] [illegible] [illegible] [illegible] [illegible] foreman would come back and we would be working again. We are working six days a week, about seventeen or eighteen hours a day, though we can break once for thirty minutes for any reason. And we are making approximately one half to two miles per day.
They say when this is done and connected from Rathaelo to Novum, the journey [illegible] [illegible] which is amazing. There seems to be a steady stream of folks coming from Telembria. We catch glimpses of them every so often at uncommon breaks in the density of the jungle.
I will write as a I can, please send news of you, the missus and little Willaer.
Your Cousin, Villivium
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Carter Lathroller
December 25, 1788
Dear and Respected Brother,
I have not received word from you, tho I sent a letter in July and a package in October, at a considrable cost. If you have not yet, please write me. I am eager for news from home, and equally eager to know if you and Melindra have decided on citizenchip here or if you are going to remain in Telembria. The post here is operating, but it is difficult to tell the level of effishency.
Our group ended up staying in Novum working construction until August. Two of our group of five that I wrote to you about in July decided to remain in Novum and continue to work construction on a permanent basis. The other two, by names of Mr. Worth and Mr. Glennon, and I were eager to follow our original plan to the west. On our way out of Novum, we encountered an independant group of 3X2 women. They were also headed west, did not intend to continue as far as our sights were set, but we decided to team together for as far as they decided to go.
Just outside of Novum, we lost a lot of time trying to get around and eventually walking through some rather unpleasant swampland. We lost three days attempting to go a days walk as the crow flies. The swamps smelled badly, and all of us were agitated by the insects and bites from such, and were ecstatic when we finally saw solid plains stretched out before us.
Another three days out of the swamps, one of the women died. She had been rather pale the few days before, her companions believed she was suffring the swamp fever. We paused a half day to properly bury her and send her off with our best wishes. It was then that I noticed Mr. Worth and one of the women, Ms. Delutter had become quite [illegible] and were often walking together and talking on the outskirts of the group. I believe the death of our traveling companion greatly grieved Ms. Delutter, and Mr. Worth made no secret of his concern nor did he hide his attempts to comfort her.
I admit that I had begun to be acquainted with Ms. Clover myself, and I believe she with me, and the revelation of Mr. Worth's relationship emboldend me to pursue. Mr. Glennon, however, seemed vexed by what seemed to mt to be a very obvious and expected outcome of joining the groups, and became very surly. I continued to attempt to be a friend and asked him of his concerns, but he would not share.
There was no talk of splitting up the group after that, and at camp one night, the women [illegible] their decision to stay with us for as far as we were going, if we agreed. We welcomed them, of course, and celebrated with far too much of our remaining alcohol. Even Mr. Glennon seemed in better spirits.
We did not see another human soul for the twenty days - of what was supposed to be an eight day trip! The plains were nice and made for easy travel after jungle and swamps, but there was very little in the way of obvious water sources, like lakes or rivers. But enough to sustain once we learned to keep a sharp eye out for springs and creeks.
On the nineteenth day, we came across an animal that we had never seen before. They were as tall as a man, but had three legs the size of tree trunks and a body like a mishapen pyramid. The top of which I believe contained the eyes and mouth, but we could not tell for sure. Each of the legs had what looked like shining crystals of varius colors on their ankles. They did not seem hostile, but when Mr. Worth approached them, they stomped furiously, shaking the ground, and they spat a yellow liquid from what I assume was their mouth. Mr. Worth being fleet of foot, dodged the spew. Then, once they had gone, we examined the goo. It was very much like acid, and where Mr. Glennon's walking stick touched it, it disintgrated the stick. We have seen sevrall others, but none paid us attention, and we did not provoke.
I must close for now, but will write again as possible to relay our advenchures and describe our new settlement. It is growing quickly, and there are matters I must now attend. Please write at your urliest convenience. Give my best to Melindra and also to Mother.
G.K. Lathroller
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The Republic of Megatridimensional Order, 1789
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Willear Brentow
February 21, 1789
Cousin Willaer,
Thank you for your letter. News from home is a welcome event here. Nearly all of us will share letters we received around the camp at night. I am glad to hear that little Willaer is taking his first steps. He will grow faster than you expect, if my elder friends are to be believed. Though I am sorry about the difficulties with your business. I don't believe the Telembrian government believed so many would leave, and underestimating or misreading the people has been the problem afore the start.
Work continues on the main rail line. We believe we are nearly a quarter done. The work is hard, but there is a sense of comradery in that work is very important and very necessary. We are part of building a new nation.
I am pleased to report that I have received a promotion [illegible] 3X2 months to the position of team lead. I do not mean to boast - it is simply a reflection of the fact that my level of education is higher than most on the railway. I can read and write easily, and speak decently, so I stand out in this crowd, hardworking and thoughtful as they may be. My duties are straightforward - to keep the team working while the foreman or supervisor is elsewhere - and it is not difficult - considering our team is very industrious.
Also, I have succumbed to the bonds of matrimony once again. I understand this may seem sudden, but the days are long and spending so much time with the same folk makes time feel remarkably drawn out. Her name is Liveluth. She is on our team, and it happened as these things do, working in close proximity. I will admit that it was a rather quick [illegible], but it feels like the next logical step, and helps alleviate concerns that we both had regarding continuation after the job is complete.
Thank you again for the letter and please continue to send news. As I said, it is encouraging to [illegible], so nothing too small or insignificant to [illegible]. My best to you, the missus and little Willaer.
Your cousin, Villivium
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Carter Lathroller
March 31, 1789
Dear and respected brother,
I have not yet received a letter from you, though I have sent three and a package. I hope you are receving these letters of mine. The post is getting better, and more [illegible] are getting through to us.
I believe I left off my last as we were still on the journey here. We had trouble deciding when we had gone eight days walk. It had been twenty one days of walking zig zag zug, avoiding swamps and those crystal-esk animals, among other things. At that time, we ran into what we believe are the native civilisation the people in Novum had spoke of.
They call themselves Oo-lug and they are like us in appearance, but more importantly, they speak our language. They are hard to understand when they speak and were espeshelly so in the beginning. But once you talk with them regular, they seem to become clearer. Maybe we are influencing them already.
There are other ways in which they are different, but the strangest is the women seem to be lesser citizens. They cower behind the men if they are even seen at all. In truth, our first encounter was when Ms. Delutter was leading our group and had come upon two of their men. I did not see it, but was told she greeted the two men, one of which socked her in the face, knocking her to the ground. As any person would be likely to do, she got to her feet and retaliated aggressively, beating the shocked O0-lug brutally before I could pull her off. Mr. Glennon held Mr. Worth back from [illegible] in the brawl.
What a tragedy to meet a new civilisation as such! It was all rather quikly sorted, I believe thanks to the common tongue and quik ecksplanation [illegible] [illegible], but could have ended very much worse. It appears that a woman speaking directly to a man is a grave insult to the Oo-lug, and the offended native reacted without considerashon of the different dress and appearance of Ms. Delutter - instinctively, as it were.
Once relations were patched, they invited us to their town, another half day's walk. We accepted and they held a party in our honur, if you can believe. With no planning whatsoe'er. And a grand time we had. So many things to tell about the Oo-lug, but I have not the time. Mr. Glennon is very fond of them, I think. When I suggested he document the tribe and culture, he sprung at the chance and thought a great idea. I was just happy the recording did not fall to me.
As interesting as the Oo-lug are, they must wait. We reached agreement with them and retraced our steps a full day, then took another half day finding a spot for our settlement. And we found a grand spot on top of a hill, with an large view of the surrounding plains. There are also dense forests to the north, which will give us timber for building the land. Howe'er, rumors are that Telembria is racing to expand west, and most of us do not want to venture too far north, lest we face more conflict with our prevous nation.
We decided to go with Mr. Worth's suggestion of Tabula Rasa for the name of our new settlement. He said it meant "blank slate" in the ancient language, which seemed [illegible].
Two things of note and then I must close. First, we have been surprised by the number of new citizens of our young republic who have been arriving the past several months. We did not think people would want to travel so far. They bring reports of other settlements springing up along the trail, but the Oo-lug have confirm'd our settlement is the farthest west for the Megatrine, which is what they call us, being unable or unwilling to use the full name of our nation. Second, it seems I have come, perhaps by default, to a leader position here in Tabula Rasa. I do think I owe most to my fondness to talk, w'er I have something to say or not, or so says Ms. Clover!
I promised I would close, but I must tell you that the crystal-esk animals I wrote about are quite common. We have been able to domesticate a few, but none have been able to ride them - not that these monstors would be the most comfort-able, given their rock hard skin. The Oo-lug were amazed at our taming of the crystal-esks - apparently though their nation is fairly old - no one had ever attempted [illegible], and merely hunted them for crystals, which have much value to them.
Give my best to Melindra and also to mother.
G.K. Lathroller
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Wvlter McAthry
April 28, 1789
Dear Wvlter,
I hope this letter reaches you. This is my third since entering our new land of the Megatridimensional Order. I finally settled on going far west with the Kendrys, though we passed a fair number of new settlements, some of which I was loathe to leave.
Ultimately, we arrived in Tabula Rasa, which is as far west as we could go without infringing on the native peoples to our west, the Uhlugh.
On the trail, reports came of a very large river to our south, and no passage can be found over it. Until we are able, our nation is bordered by the ocean to the east, the mountain and river to our South, and the Ughlugh to our west.
Many are concerned, giving the number of people joining the Order, that we will run out of room, but that seems impossible, with the vast plains extending farther than one can see.
Tabula Rasa is growing so quickly. When we arrived, it had only existed a few months, but already had a number of buildings and other foundations of civilisation. There are good women and men leading the city, though none have been officially announced or labeled.
There has been talk of electing a mayor and perhaps a board or council, but our settlement seems too busy building to go about the boring task of setting up a political structure.
Please let me know when you will be arriving to join me.
Yours,
D'phelinia McAthry
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WARNING: Unauthorized reading of this letter is punishable by Telembrian and international law. Do NOT continue if found. Deliver this document, unread, to the nearest Telembrian authority to avoid prosecution.
Report on activities of the "Order"
15 July, 1789
Attn: General Edgvett Phoster
Madam General -
I have sent this report with Kofflen, to be delivered to your hand personally, as we discussed.
I am embedded in the small settlement named Kosmaro nearly two days walk from the swamps outside the "city" of Novum. It is small and sickly, however, the sickness that most new arrivals bring with them does not spread, and those that last the first week do not return to the sickness. Many, however, die within the first week.
The reports of "legions" of traitorous citizens are overblown. Though a large number are indeed coming through, I do not see many who continue on from Kosmaro. Additionally, many here have confided in me that they are considering returning to Telembria. I do not encourage, lest my true self be exposed, but I do try to gently nudge them in that direction.
Infiltrating this primitive society is not difficult. If you are educated, you are generally trusted. I have taken advantage of that, and am in a position where I believe I can be very useful to the crown. I must remain wary to not show my true intelligence, so I actively make slight mistakes so that these scoundrels are thrown off the scent like tracking Leje.
Mission parameters remain the same, and I calculate it is more likely than not that your hypothesis will prove correct. Once they begin to return at a steady pace, and bemoan life outside the borders of Telembria, that will simultaneously increase the return of others and convince citizens of Telembria to stay in the homeland.
I will have another report for you when Kofflen returns.
Major Ryler Detritus
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Carter Lathroller
October 3, 1789
Dear and respected brother,
I was thrilled to receve your latest of 4 September and even more thrilled that you are planning on making the journey to Tabula Rasa! I've already ordered space set aside for your home once you arrive, tho if you are not satisfied, you can certainly pick out anywhere else. I, as you, wurry about mother, in spite of her exhortacions that she will be perfectly fine. She does have a lot of friends and family to keep her company, tho. But the journey here is becoming easier, what with the rail being almost complete to Novum. She can come to visit, I think, in reletive comfort in another year or so. Failing that, before long it will be easy enough for us to return to visit.
Please accept my apologies for the delay in writing. As I told you last, I have become somewhat of a leader here, being the first arrivals and my conversasional ability. I did not want to take a title for some time, espeshully when our nation will not be a nation for some time. But there ocurred more and more instances of lawlessness in our new city, and we needed officials, espeshully to keep the peace. After nominations for mayor, Mr. Worth and I were running against each other. I think it was the most awkward and un-inspring [illegible] ever presented. We praised the other's positive traits and downplayed our own. In the end, I failed to convince the populace that Mr. Worth was the better candidate, and as punishment, last week I was voted in as the first Mayor of Tabula Rasa. (that part about punishment was a joke!)
I have already named a chief law officer, though we don't yet have any laws to enforce. But we have made clear that the normal rules of civilisation apply - murder, theft and molestation - will be punished immediately, by death. I am sure that I do not have to explain to you, my always realistic brother, that altho the instances of such crimes have been relatively low, when they do occur ... I will only say that death would have been a mercy compared to what was done to those found guilty by angry mobs.
Our "city" is truly beginning to look like a city. The number of buildings that have gone up seems to increase each day, and the people seem to never stop coming. I was wurried that things may be getting worse in Telembria, and your last letter seemed to confirm the stories I have heard. Tho I am not able to conversate with every new citizen, those I have told me of troubles at the border. The Telembrians are not pleased with the number of citizens taking them up on the offer to vacate, and harrassment at the border seems to have increased. I pass this along not to wurry you, but to warn you what to espect.
The latest group of folks to come in has said the talk in Novum was that Ms. Petrus and the leaders there heard the stories and have started north to find out on their own if what they hear is true. No dout Ms. Petrus will rain fury on them once again!
I believe we are already nearly half the population of the neighboring Ughlug (that is the correct spelling, I have learned - not Oo-lug, as I had written prev.). They stare at the things we build, and ask many questions. Their settlement is a bit more primitive, with small huts for homes and only a trade system with no currencies. Mr. Glennon has decided to move to the Ughlug settlement, adding ambassador and educator to his being a historian. I believe he might be an Ughlug before long! It is good to see him happy.
Well, I have to get back to the work of being mayor. Funny that I am writing that line! Please let me know if you cannot come in Dec., or if you have issues at the border.
Give my best to Melindra and also to mother.
G.K. Lathroller
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As I Remember, As It Was
The Autobiography of Rain Elyse Petrus
Chapter 18
In spite of the perception that I am a "woman of the people" - a perception by which I am simultaneously humbled and proud - the truth is that I have not had to experience much of my life living as most of "the people" do. While my father's fortune gave him the ability to follow his passions in public service, it gave me the freedom from worrying about food or shelter and the freedom to self-actualize. I had the luxury to determine who I was, what I stood for, and who I wanted to be. Subsequently, I gained the confidence needed to lead. Most Megatrines did not, nor do they now, share in that experience, though it is a credit to our culture that more and more young people are presented with the same freedom.
The exception to that freedom was my time living in Novum in the pre-nation decade, building both the city and our new government. The city stands now as a monument to the perseverance and creative thinking that defines us. I can already see the city being romanticized in the modern era as the cradle of our nation. But make no mistake: it was, in truth, a dreadful place.
The Swamp Sickness took many, but oft forgotten were those that survived it, and more so, those of us who witnessed it. With new citizens joining us constantly from Telembria, the Sickness had plenty of fresh victims. I am aware of the numbers - that the Sickness affected 20% of the population. But as I remember, it seemed much closer to 50%. I observed the sudden, violent vomiting that was the first symptom many, many times. And our hospital, such as it was, filled to capacity with the pale white victims and frightened weeping families, tended by noble doctors working in futility to both stem the tide of patients and decipher a cure. I visited the hospital many times and spoke with many dying citizens and families. It was tortuous to be so powerless, but I forced myself to continue, if only to learn to accept and understand the powerlessness that so many less privileged feel daily.
Please don't mistake me - so many of us were extremely fortunate, and I would never compare the worst plight of my educated and comfortable life with the agony and torture of both those that survived and those that died. I only mean to convey that the Swamp Sickness is not something that can be easily forgotten, simply because one survived it. I am also trying to convey that if it was so bad for me - a national "hero" and daughter of one to boot, surrounded by loyal supporters and coddled far more than I would have liked - then how much worse for those afflicted and conflicted citizens living in Novum?
The Sickness was enough, but the swamps also created a tremendous problem for both our streets and buildings. As I said previously, we had mistaken the "crust" of the unsullied swamp as solid ground, and that held to be true through much of the first year. However, that "crust" was worn down, and gradually the land showed the true, spongy nature of where we had chosen to build the foundation of our new country. You could not walk down the streets without sinking into swamp and completely wasting another pair of shoes. Our wooden sidewalks were not much better. Before long, the relentless pounding of feet and continuous drenching rotted the wood, and within weeks became no better than the streets.
The work we had put in to build Novum; to say nothing of those who died, those who worked the rails, and those who had braved an increasingly aggressive border guard to even get here; the lasting legacy was slowly starting to be questioned by the settlers. Many, out of shame or fear of being forced to stay, left Novum without a word. Most went out west towards Kosmaro and Tabula Rasa, but some went back to Telembria. Some of us cursed those who returned, and I would not be forthcoming if I failed to admit that I muttered curses under my breath as well. But generally, I tried to tell those that were just beginning to understand how to lead that this was expected – no, perhaps not the swamp and the Swamp Sickness and the rotting town – but we knew that some would choose to return. There will always be those with stars in their eyes. Now that they were leaving, and the “honeymoon” was over, I told my team that it was now time to get down to the real business of building the Megatridimensional Order.
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Willear Brentow
January 2, 1790
Cousin Willaer,
I must begin by apologizing for two things. First, the lateness of my response. I did receive your letters and was quite grateful for the uplifting nature they had around our campfire. Thank you. However, secondly, things have been rather oppressing this last year. I will attempt to do them justice, but please forgive if I do not spend sufficient time recalling these most painful incidents.
I will begin, illogically, with the most recent. [Illegible] reports coming from the border of Telembrian harrassment trickled in, but soon it was a deluge. The stories became worse and worse, to the point where one wondered if they were delusions from travelers trudging through the jungle, overheated and tired. However, last week a cadre of men and women in fine uniform rode by - must have been 3x25 to 3x33 or more. They were soldiers from Novum. Word was they were riding to the border to investigate the stories further.
I am no military strategist, but I would think you would not send a formidable [illegible] in uniform simply to investigate. I suspected, but did not say, that investigation was already complete, and this force was perhaps the first open acknowlegment from Novum that something was going on. We have no heard what may have happened, but they have not yet returned past us. I feel this is a grim sign. Please let me know if you can, what word from your perspective?
Much more grim has been the Swamp Sickness that has accosted us as we move slowly closer to Novum. I have lost half of my original crew, which was frustrating enough. But that half included my new wife, Liveluth. We were not yet married 7 months before the Sickness infected her. She was frightened, as was I, but both of us powerless to do anything but hope that she would be a survivor. It was not to be so. I was ... am ... heartbroken. The time I spent with her was an intense love, and our only fleeting concern was how we would sustain the intensity after the rail was completed. The brightest flames burn out the quickest, and that was certainly true with us.
Yet I still feel as if I have been robbed. Where my enthusiasm last year saw me through the first grueling months of work, and where our love saw me through the last few of her life, I am suddenly left with nothing. Only time and the incremental crawl of the rail. They say here that each day feels like a week, and until Liveluth died, I could not understand it. Now I understand all too well.
Mourn with me only a minute cousin, but do not fret. I will work through this burden as I have any other in life - by putting one foot in front of the other! I do find that the responsibility of crew leader helps me to put on an enthusiastic mask, which in turn helps me to feel more enthusiastic. In addition, the new workers that arrive to replace the deceased or otherwise gone bring the original enthusiasm and sense of purpose that I had when I first arrived.
There is another development this past year; one that may cause you to raise and eyebrow. I am not sure from whence it sprung, but a new religion is spreading amongst the railworkers. It is centered on the number 3, which, from Petrus' party to the naming of our new nation, has been an important number, to be sure. I am part of a group spending our time codifying the religion in our off hours. It seems a noble cause and distracts me from some of my melancholy.
Please continue to write, and best to you, the missus and little Willear.
Your cousin, Villivium
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Orginal writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to D'phelina McAthry
Tabula Rasa
February 14, 1790
Dear D'phelina,
I cannot begin to explain how I miss you, and since the start of this journey knowing that I am going to see you shortly has made things worse. I have heard the delay at the Quarantine area near Novum in will add at least three days to my trip, though I will be, in truth, glad for the rest once we get through the jungle. Those I am traveling with say that the rails being built have made some things easier, but other things, like noxious smells and unrelenting noise, have made it worse. It will be better for everyone when the rails get completed.
Thank you for your last letter! I was slightly disappointed in the tone, but I understand that you are not flowery with your words, either in writing or person. I suppose that I expected you to make full use of the only communication available in order express the doubtless extremes of your longing for me to be by your side. Longings I know too well myself! I am tormented daily at being separated from you, my love, and this feeling of incompleteness has placed as shadow even on the most mundane of daily routines.
I did have an opportunity to speak to your father before I left. He wished us well, though my exhortations for him to join us were met with a solemn refusal. For such a respectable, well-off leader of the community who has no love for the Telembrian government, I could not extract the reason for him dismissing the idea.
Regardless, I love you with all my heart and will struggle to arrive in Tabula Rasa without my heart exploding in the process. You are my light in a barren land, D'pheline, and you have all my love.
Wvlter McAthry
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Swampland Collection, 1788-1798
Original writings of 73 citizens of the newly formed Republic of Megatridimensional Order who traveled from their native Telembria to the Crudumpascor Swamps to build their new nation. On loan from the Megatridimensional National Library in Tabula Rasa.
Addressed to Belinda Rift
Novum
February 14, 1790
Dear Belinda,
I cannot begin to explain how I miss you, though I am only a few days away from Novum. I have written D'phelina and explained the extra days I will be staying with you as part of the Quarantine process that Novum is under. There is little doubt she expects anything. But after we spend some days together in bliss (and bed, I daresay!), I have decided to go to Tabula Rasa to end the marriage. I don't expect she will fight it, but if she does there are other ways to become single, especially in the still lawless settlements.
The main reason, however, that I shall travel to Tabula Rasa will be to earn some trios as an entertainer, which I am quite good - and of which Tabula Rasa has very little. I expect to return with a small fortune easily pried from the hands of gawkers and fools that are drawn to my table game, but I will be keeping a keen eye out for more opportunities than that. Money is key, and the more we have, the more you and I can shape the fabric of this new nation in whatever way we wish.
Luxury and power are our future, making our present Trio situation an unpleasant but necessary step towards our goal.
I hope to be there in three days time, my love.
Wvlter McAthry
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WARNING: Unauthorized reading of this letter is punishable by Telembrian and international law. Do NOT continue if found. Deliver this document, unread, to the nearest Telembrian authority to avoid prosecution.
Report on activities of the "Order"
10 March 1790
Attn: General Edgvett Phoster
Madam General -
Kosmaro is a frustrating affair. Every day the death toll from the sickness is higher than the last, but as if bitten by mosquito, the city continues to swell with traitors. They began sorting public offices here and I successfully campaigned to be census taker, and I ran unopposed. In this position, I have meticulously chronicled the numbers of those dying, those heading further into the wilderness, those arriving and those leaving to return to our beloved country of Telembria. The month of February was worse than January, which was worse than December, which was worse than November.
249 dead from the sickness in February, and 13 returned to Telembria. That is more dead than any other month, and less returned. And the attitude of those continuing on to Tabula Rasa and those remaining here is inconceivable. They live in squalor, surrounded by disease, yet sing the praises of the "daughter" of Petrus (curse the name) and celebrate almost daily at their situation. I could understand were this a savage tribe who were too ignorant to know what they were missing. But these are former Telembrians! I struggle to see this as anything but madness.
I have heard of the increased tightening of the border and your generalship's order work diligently to convince misguided Telembrians to not make the trip. As of my last report, I would not have seen it necessary. However, with the dismay I am experiencing daily, I urge you to step up efforts! Would that we could close the border completely! While it would be a break of the treaty, it would be well worth the damage if we could save these idiots from such a wretched state!
I am sure that the general knows more of the "forces" this new nation possesses, but indications are that other than a large contingent at Novum, the settlements here have little, if any, soldiers or agents. A loyal Telembrian platoon could, without much trouble, round up the citizens of this cesspool and return them home for their own good.
Mission parameters remain as those you sent in your missive of 5 December. I will continue to lie low and gather information. But I urge you to consider action! Only two months ago I could have arranged for the death of nearly half the city in one well orchestrated accident. Now, I could barely make a dent. And worse, I feel it would only make these cretans more determined in their obstinance.
I will have another report for you when Kofflen returns.
Major Ryler Detritus
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A History of the Order
Wanzian Press
c. 1915
Chapter 10
Once the need for law and order in Tabula Rasa became apparent, it only made sense that there be a fair hand at the controls. And so it was that G.K. Lathroller became the first mayor of Tabula Rasa. He "ran" unopposed. And I say "ran" with the qualifier that the election season was not so much a competition as it was a convincing of Lathroller, who initially opposed the idea of him becoming the most powerful man in the Order. He agreed with reluctance, but also with the understanding that 1) his term was limited, and 2) he was only there to "break the tie" if the "real" decision makers were at an impasse.
In Novum, leadership had never been an issue. And where Lathroller was promised an amount of support that led to him mostly rubber-stamping everything, Rain Petrus had just the opposite. In spite of her constant insistance and demand of feedback and ideas, her advisors did very little to advise. From her autobiography, discussing her realization that her original advisors (derisively labled the "No Negatives Nine" in many history books) may be spineless synchophants:
"I had determined to test my theory to see if the [NNN] were as spineless as they appeared, and did so during the next city planning meeting. I proposed scrapping the work we had done on our government to this point and institute a "demerit system" of government, whereby citizens could give each other demerits for all sort of bad behavior. When a citizen reached a certain number of demerits, they were exiled from town and had their possessions seized by the government. In other words, a most ridiculous system with gaping flaws of logic and avenues of abuse. To my dismay, my suggestion was met with immediate adjectives such as "revolutionary," and "bold," and, my least favorite "two steps forward for the Order, and dare I say the entire human race."
I kept my cool and accepted these compliments, but asked each advisor to write up a plan to implement this preposterous decision within 24 hours (I did not want to waste any more time than they already had). You could feel the tension in the room as they sat in shock before one of them finally said "yes, ma'am, I will have it for you tomorrow." They were already gone in my mind, but I wanted to see this play out, so I sent my assistant, Bruba, over the collect the "plans." When I reviewed them, they were almost word for word what I had proposed a few days prior. All except one, which was, to my surprise, a resignation from one advisor who, though he held great deference to my "leadership," could not support such a program and thought it best that if he contribute to the Order "some other way." I immediately sent Brubah to drag the poor fellow to my office.
When he arrived, I have not seen a more frightened gentleman than Mr. Xenwith, even on the field of battle staring death in the face. I am not easily moved to humor, but I could not restrain from smiling at his visible confusion when I demanded he be my first Minister of Governance. As his first action, I asked that he write a newspaper release regarding the firing of his collegues and his hire as Minister of Governance, and emphasized that he not water down the reasons. Xenwith's draft arrived that evening and I was so please I did not change a single word. I knew then that I had one advisor I could trust. Finding the other eight would not be easy."