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History Guy
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Reads too many books...
Oct 2001
time: 23:24
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I announce that I, Hernan de History Guy Calamari, an old man, am leaving the madness of the city in search of higher truths, which can only be found far away, in the wilds of nature. I beg leave of you all now, for though I enjoyed much of life here, I was hounded by jealous men throughout my life, and I have grown far too tired of it to go on.
If my seed goes on here in Madrid, I leave everything in my son Hernan the Younger's capable hands. If my offspring decide to stay in Madrid, the company is there's.
I leave half of my fortune to the government, to be divided up by the government as it sees fit. I hope it acknowledges this act of charity, which was not required, but which I gave out of my free will.
Hernan de History Guy Calamari
Wandering Sage
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Togas
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California
Jun 2002
time: 21:24
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It is a shame that Hernan Calamari's tale of the death of Thug was somehow "lost" in this thread. This is a troublesome turn of events in what was to be a very jovial festival.
I will not let such events as the mysterious death of Thug, the silence of the story, or Senor Calamari's madness ruin a Festival that I have planned for the people of Madrid. The Festival must go on.
I hereby instruct the Watcher, Davout, to find and seize Hernan Calamari and bring him under our protection. Since Thug is no more, I will change my ruling -- Hernan Calamari will be thrown into the river and down the waterfall in Thug's place. Should he survive we will repeat the process up to SEVEN times, once each day, just before sundown.
Senor Mitchell will still put on a Great Feast to honor Senor Pikesfan at the end of this Festival.
During the duration of the Festival my sons will slaughter several of my cattle to be roasted during the feast. I will use some of the cattle that Senor Calamari has so graciously given to me.
Should Senor Calamari fail to survive the trip down the waterfall, I will charge his family to pay a day's worth of calamari profits to Senor Mitchell for each day that the people of Spain are without a Festival.
I hereby order that the Festival and the ritual tossing of Senor Calamari into the river shall begin tomorrow night!
OOC: furthermore, I ask that our High Priest roll a six-sided dice to determine if Senor Calamari survives the trip EACH DAY he is tossed down the river. A roll of 1-4 = survival. A roll of 5-6 = death. 6 would be a very heinous death. 1 would be a very honorable trip down the rapids.
I ask our High Priest to report to the tribe the results of each trip Senor Calamari takes down the river, and to post a new result EACH DAY of the festival.
We will begin this process on Friday night. /OOC
--Togas
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mrmitchell
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It has been said by Grand Despot Togas, and it will be done.
This unexpected turn of events leads me to wonder: What's Insurance? Would I know what this insurance is, that Senor Calamari says I want? And Senor Calamari has so suddenly left, immediately after Senor Clemente exposed him to be allied with an evil spirit.
This has all left me to wonder: What have we done? We scared away one of Madrid's most prominent businessmen. However, I feel no sympathy for those dealing in underhanded ways.
May the Spirits bless Senor Davout in his finding of Senor Calamari!
And oh yeah, everything Senor Clemente said.
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pikesfan
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A young Pikesfan suddenly enters the Casa del Togas with an entourage of men from Los Piraneos and a group of respectable, yet enraged, young ladies from Aunt Esmeralda’s, as well as Aunt Esmeralda herself, dressed in black.
Oh Great Despot of Madrid! Your magnificent town overwhelms me.
My name is Jordí Pikesfan. I have just arrived from my family’s valley in Los Piraneos to settle with my uncle Ronní and inherit the family business, which is, ahem, the Respectability for Maidens business taught by my aged Great-Aunt Esmeralda the Duenna. I also brought with me my aunt Joaquína and my sisters María and Anna Pikesfan to help my Great-Aunt in the teaching of what we back home call “Etiqueta de los Damas”.
But I come here to find as much chaos as we get back home after the snow slides from the mountain and buries the trees! Great-Aunt Esmeralda told me my uncle was foully murdered by a badsquid!
O Despot, I must say I find it embarrassing to be among all these warriors and admit that I have inherited an Etiquette business when what I came here for was to learn the ways of the stone axe. We never understood the ways of my Uncle Ronní back home, or why he would found an Etiquette business, but he was not a bad sort and his murder must not go unavenged!
O Despot, I come from the mountains and know not exactly what this badsquid is that killed my uncle. Perhaps it is the word you civilized folks use for what we rustics call a murderer. So I have here for you, Despot, the badsquid!
He makes a sign and the enraged, yet respectable, young ladies throw the badly scratched and bruised undercook onto the floor at the Despot’s feet, where he cowers.
A young lady interrupts: We were all so mad that this beast killed dear Uncle Pikesfan who was so nice to us and enabled us to learn the ways of Respectability from dear Aunt Esmeralda that we went in search of him and found him hiding in his kitchen and grabbed him and took him away and we want him to DIE! 
Young Pikesfan again:
O Despot, I was also informed that my uncle’s friend Hernan de Calamari was possessed by evil spirits and wandered off into the wilderness. And that my uncle’s friend’s son is to be thrown off a waterfall for seven days!
I know not the ways of your great town, and what is this Justice thing, and I would not presume to instruct you, O Great Despot, in your business. But I would ask that for the sake of my uncle’s friendship, you could spare young Hernan for one day, perhaps the last, or even more than one day if it amuses you, and take this wretched badsquid in his place, for the wrath of these maidens is frightening for me to behold as one who only wanted to learn about the simple ways of the stone axe.
The young ladies: Ohhh, Hernan Calamari is too cute to go down a waterfall! I won’t be able to marry him! Throw the undercook! Yes, yes throw him instead! Kill him now! Let him get wet! Let him die!
An aged voice, the height of Respectability: Now girls...
demurely: Yes, Aunt Esmeralda...
The cowering snivelling undercook, hysterically: Please Your Muninficency, do anything you want with me, throw me down the waterfall seven hundred times, but keep me away from these maidens, I beg of you, don’t let them touch me!
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Nuclear Winter
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[OOC]Is this shield the ancestor of surfing boards?[OOC]
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mrmitchell
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Oh, I'm sorry, my computer is really **** up right now
Disregard this
Last edited by mrmitchell on 07-12-2002 at 04:41
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Nuclear Winter
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MRmitchell, you have slain one of our tribesfolk, a very friend of us...
I´d check your hut´s door twice or trice this night...
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06-12-2002 05:00
Approved. High Priest please SUBTACT 1 number from the result of the roll for the first day of the festival. And continue to subtract it on every other day until someone notices and takes the sheild away from Senor Calamari.
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