Now I regret not Photoshopping myself onto the faces of the characters. 
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Phonemelter said:Now I regret not Photoshopping myself onto the faces of the characters.
You had your chance -- I told you the alternative was far, far worse.
Talisien’s Travel Guide - Part 5.1 - Townsville Inhabitants
Today, as promised, I’m going to tell you a little more about our fair ruler; though you may not encounter her directly during your travels about our land, it is nevertheless wise to know whom may be issuing the orders to remove your head from your shoulders should you choose to break the law here in Townsville.
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When King Brian the Blessed passed away, leaving rulership of Townsville in the hands of his only child, there was much bemoaning and eye-rolling, for Queens of our realm have always tended towards the wicked end of the spectrum. Queen Llandy the Skeptical managed to buck this trend, and not only came to earn the love of her people, but also their respect.
It was during the summer of ‘69 that Queen Llandy’s rule was tested, for during that terrible summer a host of Lurkers stormed out of the Lurkwood and laid siege to Townsville. Now, when I say ‘host’ you probably imagine a great swarm of the brutes coming with sword and flame to destroy all that we love and hold dear. Had I said ‘host of orcs’ then your imaginings would not be far wrong, however, it is not the Lurkers’ way to attack directly. In fact, outside of the Lurkwood their form can be perceived only as a weak and indistinct shadow. It is not by sight that you know Lurkers have infested your home, but by observation of their effect on your people.
It was a terrible time for us. Millers left their windmills untended. Farmers put down their tills and hoes and rakes and took to lying abed all day. Even the children were not immune, preferring to spend their time sitting indoors staring at empty boxes instead of going out playing games and being delinquents. An unnatural hush fell over our town, and those not yet infected dared not leave their houses.
The Queen knew that there is only one way to cure the Lurker disease once it has infected a host, and that is to remove the individual’s head from their shoulders*. No doubt that to an outsider, the swift campaign of beheadings would have seemed cruel, even brutal, but by eliminating the infected minority, the Queen saved the uninfected majority. Townsville began to flourish once more.
Some say that the mark of a wise ruler is the ability to empathise with one’s subjects, but I can only assume those individuals have never had to face a challenge like that faced by Townsville during the summer of ‘69. In truth, the mark of a wise ruler is the ability to make tough decisions and see them through even though the decision may be unpopular; to act for the greater good by serving the needs of the many, rather than the needs of the few.
And so, Townsville has been safe from the Lurker menace since that terrible summer. Each year we hold a Festival of Remembrance, to honour and remember those who were once our friends and families, to educate our children about the dangers inherent in the Lurkwood, and to inform travellers such as yourself of the peril of pissing off our Queen.
Tomorrow I will introduce you to some of Townsville’s more familiar faces.
*Hanging and pyre-burning are also acceptable methods of curing the Lurker sickness.
It was during the summer of ‘69 that Queen Llandy’s rule was tested, for during that terrible summer a host of Lurkers stormed out of the Lurkwood and laid siege to Townsville. Now, when I say ‘host’ you probably imagine a great swarm of the brutes coming with sword and flame to destroy all that we love and hold dear. Had I said ‘host of orcs’ then your imaginings would not be far wrong, however, it is not the Lurkers’ way to attack directly. In fact, outside of the Lurkwood their form can be perceived only as a weak and indistinct shadow. It is not by sight that you know Lurkers have infested your home, but by observation of their effect on your people.
It was a terrible time for us. Millers left their windmills untended. Farmers put down their tills and hoes and rakes and took to lying abed all day. Even the children were not immune, preferring to spend their time sitting indoors staring at empty boxes instead of going out playing games and being delinquents. An unnatural hush fell over our town, and those not yet infected dared not leave their houses.
The Queen knew that there is only one way to cure the Lurker disease once it has infected a host, and that is to remove the individual’s head from their shoulders*. No doubt that to an outsider, the swift campaign of beheadings would have seemed cruel, even brutal, but by eliminating the infected minority, the Queen saved the uninfected majority. Townsville began to flourish once more.
Some say that the mark of a wise ruler is the ability to empathise with one’s subjects, but I can only assume those individuals have never had to face a challenge like that faced by Townsville during the summer of ‘69. In truth, the mark of a wise ruler is the ability to make tough decisions and see them through even though the decision may be unpopular; to act for the greater good by serving the needs of the many, rather than the needs of the few.
And so, Townsville has been safe from the Lurker menace since that terrible summer. Each year we hold a Festival of Remembrance, to honour and remember those who were once our friends and families, to educate our children about the dangers inherent in the Lurkwood, and to inform travellers such as yourself of the peril of pissing off our Queen.
Tomorrow I will introduce you to some of Townsville’s more familiar faces.
*Hanging and pyre-burning are also acceptable methods of curing the Lurker sickness.
Talisien’s Travel Guide - Part 5.2 - Townsville Inhabitants
There are few Townsville residents as old, wise or crabby as Blind Althea. Spry as a spring lamb and as tenacious as a tomcat, Althea carries a walking stick which sees more use as a banger-of-heads than it does an aider-of-legs.
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Despite her temperament, Althea is welcomed warmly wherever she goes, and not simply because she’s liable to crack people across the head when she’s not made to feel welcome. For you see, dear reader, as Althea aged and her sight grew dim, a second sight came to her; the ability to perceive the auras of those around her. Births, deaths, lost sheep and broken hearts: Althea predicts it all!
Ever the shrewd entrepreneur, Althea spends most of her time (when not visiting her own form of caned justice upon unassuming heads) in her little tent in the village square, where she has set up her own fortune-telling stall; the discerning traveller will note that during tourist season, Blind Althea’s fares are more than double the off-peak rate. Just because Althea is blind doesn’t mean she is stupid, and she is certainly nobody’s fool.
Several years ago, the Seers, Mystics And Clairvoyants Society (colloquially known as SMACS) investigated Althea for, amongst other things, Practising Mystiscism Or Clairvoyancy Without A Licence, Denigrating The Ethereal Arts, and Fraud. This investigation was dropped several days after it was started when the entire investigation team was accidentally crushed by a herd of stampeding dairy cows. Happily, the event was foreseen by Blind Althea the day before it happened, but unfortunately, not by the luckless investigation team.
As the discerning traveller is bound to encounter Blind Althea about his travels (for even if he attempts to avoid her, she has her ways of seeking him out), it would be best to keep politeness in mind. Fast ducking reflexes are also recommended.
Ever the shrewd entrepreneur, Althea spends most of her time (when not visiting her own form of caned justice upon unassuming heads) in her little tent in the village square, where she has set up her own fortune-telling stall; the discerning traveller will note that during tourist season, Blind Althea’s fares are more than double the off-peak rate. Just because Althea is blind doesn’t mean she is stupid, and she is certainly nobody’s fool.
Several years ago, the Seers, Mystics And Clairvoyants Society (colloquially known as SMACS) investigated Althea for, amongst other things, Practising Mystiscism Or Clairvoyancy Without A Licence, Denigrating The Ethereal Arts, and Fraud. This investigation was dropped several days after it was started when the entire investigation team was accidentally crushed by a herd of stampeding dairy cows. Happily, the event was foreseen by Blind Althea the day before it happened, but unfortunately, not by the luckless investigation team.
As the discerning traveller is bound to encounter Blind Althea about his travels (for even if he attempts to avoid her, she has her ways of seeking him out), it would be best to keep politeness in mind. Fast ducking reflexes are also recommended.
They were only jealous.
Talisien’s Travel Guide - Part 5.3 - Townsville Inhabitants
Few jobs within Townsville are as thankless as that of Night Watchman, but fortunately for us, Corporal Poe Tayter is a man (or rather, an overgrown boy) who doesn’t need a lot of thanks. His tireless efforts keep Townsville’s residents safe from the occasional nosey badger, and once he even chased away a fearsome dragon, which turned out to be a cloud passing in front of the moon.
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Corporal Tayter is something of a joke to the Day Watch… and to the rest of the town, if we are to be completely honest… but he takes the teasing with his usual good humour and a hefty measure of obliviousness, especially since the six members of the Day Watch are his older brothers. The mark of a good Watchman is that nothing is supposed to get past him, but luckily for Poe Tayter, quite a lot gets past him even on the best of nights.
Of course, the Corporal’s dim nature is hardly his own fault; his mother was a baker by trade, and complained many a time of having butter-fingers. As a result, Corporal Tayter spent a lot of time on his head as a youngling, though he seems to have developed a rather impressive bounce when dropped from a height.
Because all decent citizens are tucked safely within their homes by nightfall, the discerning traveller is most likely to encounter Corporal Tayter during visits to the Last Drop Inn, when his soothing calls of All Is Well! reassure locals and tourists alike that those deadly badgers are not out in force that night. Though knowing Corporal Tayter, it’s very likely that even if all was not well, All Would Still Be Well.
Of course, the Corporal’s dim nature is hardly his own fault; his mother was a baker by trade, and complained many a time of having butter-fingers. As a result, Corporal Tayter spent a lot of time on his head as a youngling, though he seems to have developed a rather impressive bounce when dropped from a height.
Because all decent citizens are tucked safely within their homes by nightfall, the discerning traveller is most likely to encounter Corporal Tayter during visits to the Last Drop Inn, when his soothing calls of All Is Well! reassure locals and tourists alike that those deadly badgers are not out in force that night. Though knowing Corporal Tayter, it’s very likely that even if all was not well, All Would Still Be Well.
Talisien’s Travel Guide - Part 5.4 - Townsville Inhabitants
Mayor Vander Graff oversees the day to day running of Townsville on behalf of the Queen. Democratically elected for the past thirty six years in a row (predominantly because nobody else wanted the job), the Mayor is a familiar figure around the town, and always willing to stop and listen to the concerns of Townsville residents and visitors.
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Don’t let the Mayor’s oddness and eccentricity concern you; as a young man, he had the misfortune of being struck by lightning on a sunny day, and the bolt which should have killed him left him only with the ability to detect when a storm is brewing and a curious obsession with turnips.
It behooves the discerning traveller to remain on good terms with Mayer Graff, for he’s always willing to use his influence to upgrade a fellow’s room, or arrange for a guided tour of the area. Indeed, Mayor Graff’s knowledge of Townsville and its surrounding land is second only to my own! Just remember to keep a turnip about your person at all times, as Mayor Graff is always more receptive to those who come bearing gifts of his favoured vegetable.
It behooves the discerning traveller to remain on good terms with Mayer Graff, for he’s always willing to use his influence to upgrade a fellow’s room, or arrange for a guided tour of the area. Indeed, Mayor Graff’s knowledge of Townsville and its surrounding land is second only to my own! Just remember to keep a turnip about your person at all times, as Mayor Graff is always more receptive to those who come bearing gifts of his favoured vegetable.
Talisien’s Travel Guide - Part 5.5 - Townsville Inhabitants
Ugh. This… flamboyant… young man is my youngest grandchild, Bob. Despite my best attempts to encourage Bob to fly the nest like his siblings and cousins and go adventuring around the realm, he remains stubbornly determined to stay home instead.
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Like many young people these days, Bob is keen to find his own path through life, and appears to take particular delight in ignoring authority figures. Attempts to forcibly cut his hair result in him throwing massive tantrums, whilst every time his mother patches up his coat, he purposely goes out and rips it again.
Further acts of teen rebellion include befriending a local tribe of dwarves. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not dwarfist, and I respect our shorter bretheren as much as anybody, but they appear to be a Bad Influence on Bob. Since taking up with the dwarves he sleeps away half the day, crawls out of bed at lunch time looking like he’s still half-asleep, and then heads off to the quarry, where he and the dwarves engage in what can only loosely be called ‘musical composition.’
When I was a young man, there was more to music than banging rocks together. Inspirational, Bob calls it. ‘Stone music’ will take the world by storm, he says. Bah, humbug! Though, I would rather Stone music than that other dreadful experimental… thing… they’re doing, banging iron bars together. I don’t care how creative you attempt to be with the definition of ‘music’; metal should be smithed by a craftsman, not played by a gang of bearded monstrosities!
And the lyrics! Bob says the lyrics really speak to him, and I tell him, “Well, what do you expect when you hang out with a bunch of dwarves? Of course they’re going to sing about darkness and despair; they dwell in warrens and live with the constant threat of cave-in. Why don’t you befriend some nice elves, and sing about the sunshine and the trees?” But will he listen? Of course not. Youngsters know everything, and it’s only as you get older you realise how little you actually know (unless you happen to be me, of course!)
If you spot Bob whilst on your travels, dear reader, please do me the favour of telling him how ridiculously girly his hair looks, and advise him to get his clothes fixed proper and find a more respectable vocation than making music with stones and iron. You’ll be doing him a favour, in the long run.
There are many more places to visit, and many more people to meet, in and around Townsville, but it’s up to you to come here and visit these places and meet these people yourselves. For now I’ve given you everything that you need to know, dear reader, and I sincerely hope I’ll be seeing you again very soon.
P.S. I will send you a most recent edition, signed copy of the map of the realm; watch out for the pony courier shortly!
Further acts of teen rebellion include befriending a local tribe of dwarves. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not dwarfist, and I respect our shorter bretheren as much as anybody, but they appear to be a Bad Influence on Bob. Since taking up with the dwarves he sleeps away half the day, crawls out of bed at lunch time looking like he’s still half-asleep, and then heads off to the quarry, where he and the dwarves engage in what can only loosely be called ‘musical composition.’
When I was a young man, there was more to music than banging rocks together. Inspirational, Bob calls it. ‘Stone music’ will take the world by storm, he says. Bah, humbug! Though, I would rather Stone music than that other dreadful experimental… thing… they’re doing, banging iron bars together. I don’t care how creative you attempt to be with the definition of ‘music’; metal should be smithed by a craftsman, not played by a gang of bearded monstrosities!
And the lyrics! Bob says the lyrics really speak to him, and I tell him, “Well, what do you expect when you hang out with a bunch of dwarves? Of course they’re going to sing about darkness and despair; they dwell in warrens and live with the constant threat of cave-in. Why don’t you befriend some nice elves, and sing about the sunshine and the trees?” But will he listen? Of course not. Youngsters know everything, and it’s only as you get older you realise how little you actually know (unless you happen to be me, of course!)
If you spot Bob whilst on your travels, dear reader, please do me the favour of telling him how ridiculously girly his hair looks, and advise him to get his clothes fixed proper and find a more respectable vocation than making music with stones and iron. You’ll be doing him a favour, in the long run.
There are many more places to visit, and many more people to meet, in and around Townsville, but it’s up to you to come here and visit these places and meet these people yourselves. For now I’ve given you everything that you need to know, dear reader, and I sincerely hope I’ll be seeing you again very soon.
P.S. I will send you a most recent edition, signed copy of the map of the realm; watch out for the pony courier shortly!
