Outrage at the Temple Monks - a Letter.

[Hanrahan 2884]

To The Monks,

 

It is a well known fact that by the ‘good’ grace of the monks, persons who make offerings to the Skygod may receive the gift of both bread and potatoes. I write this letter to you fellows in PROTEST of this policy. 

 

Providing the descendant folks food and whatnot may SOUND like a fair and moral policy, it is a most VILLAINOUS and DASTARDLY system that beggars and throes into poverty all the gentleman farmers of our proud nation.

 

My name is Curley Dograce, and I’ve been a farmer in the Redenford area for twenty one years. I grow pumpkins, oats, potatoes, and carrots on my fields, of which I have four - and a pasture with ten head of woolies. As well, I have a coop to my name with six lovely feathered ladies. And every last bit of it is all for naught.

 

YOUR policy of supplying people with labour-free food, magick’d into their pockets has reduced my livelihood to nothing. Not one fellow, madame, child, or elfe purchases farm goods! Mutton goes unsold. Pumpkins rot on the fields. Oats go bad in the silos, and even my eggs go funny. There’s no life to be had in the countryside, and it’s all your bloody fault.

 

I beg of you to rethink your policy, as many of my countrymen across the Empire share in my plight to be sure. We want to do an honest days work, and get an honest days pay from it. Your potato and bread policy is the ruin of us all. 

 

Sincerely,

 

C. Dograce.

[Viraj Dobrial 319]

De would take up the letter, tilting his head in confusion.

 

"This seems like more of a problem of allocation. This man is selling to a market that doesn't exist. Though... I've never seen any mutton, nor pumpkins, nor anything of the like on the Auction House. Just... potatoes. So, so many potatoes," he'd say, shuddering."

 

"...I should visit Redenford again soon. Maybe help this poor man."

[Fie 2519]

Elumina, the ex-Monk tilts her head in confusion. 

[VonEbs 1224]

Who knew that the invisible hand of the market was actually just the Cloud Temple Monks driving farmers into dire poverty.

[Dhaelena 586]

[ScreamingDingo 16792]

A simple carriage driver screams to the skies in anger. His recent ability to transport people to and from places has been absolutely annihilated by the existence of the strange anomalies of soulstone.

 

Though, his almost poverty has always been saved by the magical produce of the Wilven Cloud Temple. They have provided for him where others haven't.

 

All hail the monks of produce, all hail the temple of the clouds.

[Hanrahan 2884]

2 minutes ago, ScreamingDingo said:

A simple carriage driver screams to the skies in anger. His recent ability to transport people to and from places has been absolutely annihilated by the existence of the strange anomalies of soulstone.

 

Though, his almost poverty has always been saved by the magical produce of the Wilven Cloud Temple. They have provided for him where others haven't.

 

All hail the monks of produce, all hail the temple of the clouds.

 

C. Dograce senses a labour conflict incoming.

[Treshure 5579]

In reply to the hapless C. Dograce,

 

This plight was lost in its beginning! None can withstand the incandescent umbra by which our taters and manna descend. I cannot intervene on behalf of this divine providence, and I cannot forsake the needs of the many for the pockets of the few. But I can offer what all Monks do: new beginnings.

 

Hark! I have heard of your exploits, Curley Dograce. I entertain the tales of your fields atop our wilven towers! Your oats and carrots hold no equal. I am never one to leave these hallowed grounds, and yet this legend draws myself nearer our precincts every passing day. Prepare your barrels, and cupboards, and larders! I will descend upon your farm with my flock, and we will test your crop with immortal scrutiny. Your crops will be among my own if these fabled rumors hold true, and no pay shall withstand your empty coffers.

 

Ready yourself,

The Archmonk, Sanvello

 

 

 

 

[Hanrahan 2884]

Dear Mr. Sanvello,

 

Your offer is heartily received. I shall make my preparations and be happy to recieve you and your folks in the old Redenwald Farm with due haste. My thanks,

 

C. Dograce.

[HogoBojo 3968]

Monk Hugo begins packing an assortment of items after getting word of the meeting. "Hmm." he mutters to himself. "I wonder what will come of this. Well there's only one way to find out I suppose." the Monk says as he shoves the rest of his items into his bag and heads out the door.

[NotEvilAtAll 9926]

18 minutes ago, ScreamingDingo said:

A simple carriage driver screams to the skies in anger. His recent ability to transport people to and from places has been absolutely annihilated by the existence of the strange anomalies of soulstone.

 

Though, his almost poverty has always been saved by the magical produce of the Wilven Cloud Temple. They have provided for him where others haven't.

 

All hail the monks of produce, all hail the temple of the clouds.

Filibert Applefoot laughs "Hah! Dar beh carriage drivers who dink t'ey can ac'ualleh MOVE carriages? Tha's somefin' onleh dah monks can do! Wheels onleh work when da monks 'cause 'em ter work! Probabley jus' some bandi' tryin'a rob people 'n e'ernalleh s'a'ionareh carriages 'er somefin'"

[sarahbarah 5008]

Monk Rina scrambles to pack a bag for the impending trip. "Ti, ti, these robes will have to do." She sighs, referencing her old tried and true garbs. 

[Latelle 719]

Monk Addison starts packing her bags. "'Tis no' loike t'e Archmonk ter accep' a challenge, much less one so far from 'ome," muses the halfling. "S'pose 'e really wan's ter prove 'imself!" she says to herself, then humming a cheery tune.

[LobsterLilly 605]

Monk Fleur happily starts to pack her bags, singing a little song as she does, "~Got no clue what's going on, doo daa doo daa, got no clue what's going on da da doo da day~" She finishes off with putting on her favorite frog pin

[latte 1310]

 

At the luxurious homes of the cloud temple, away from the publice, Monk Philippa stiffles out a laugh at her boss, as well as Archmonk's declaration , sipping on a piña colada payed for the poor and taxed people of Almaris. "God, Ea' love my job!" she'd say, tossing about mina, meaningless to her.