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Hear ye, hear ye,

 

Let it be known that the recent, nefarious actions undertaken by those who shall not be named but whose identities are known of are most grievous and unacceptable. I, Cyris, am most deeply shocked and disappointed in the behavior of those who have resided in our Shire as respectable wee-folk for so long.

 

It is the very essence of our just and free commune to convene moots whenever there arises any opposition to the decisions made by the holders of positions of power, so that they may be discussed and overturned if a majority vote is obtained. Violence and threats shall not be countenanced. I implore those who are responsible to come forward and organize a moot regarding the involvement of mina in the Shire, or else they shall be made answerable to the law, and their cause shall be deemed null and void.

 

We are a civilized society, and our differences shall be resolved in a civil and peaceful manner. The use of terrorism shall not be tolerated, nor shall any negotiations be held with those who seek to put the Shire under the threat of a blaze.

 

Depart now in peace, as you are forgiven,

His Majesty, King Cyris Collingwood I, Thain of Hayhollow-By-Water.

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Doder stumbles around the streets of Bywater with a makeshift tin hat dawned on his head. He is covered in soot and liquor. “The bigguns are usin’ voidal magics tae lace our drinkin’ wa’er wiff mina!” He can barely stand as he tries to pour more gin down his throat. He gets some of it in, but it mostly lands on his ash covered shirt. “The onleh way tae protec’ ouserselves is tae take covah! Roseh! Oi fink ‘eh Thain is on to us!” He shouts down an empty street. He holds his bottle up to his face to check how much is left. “Ye’re the onleh one Oi can trus’ now,” he would tell the bottle before finishing it off.

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