A Notice

[XkynarethX 109]

*hanging on the message board, attached with a brown-feathered arrow, lies a perfect and neat white paper, with brown writings on it. Seeing it looks official, you approach it. Noticing the Crest of the Kirvels, you begin to read...*

Salutations men and women of Varivik! Keep in mind that I, Guverdur Beladin Kirvel shall begin taxing the citizens of Varivik at the start of the following elven week. The usual tax shall consist of one bag of produce regardless of your profession. (Except for blacksmiths, who shall hand out either three of each tools in iron, or two sets of iron armor. Additional tools made of stone may be requested, for the sake of people who cannot use tools made of iron.) If said tax payer does not have the required material, they may choose to pay one hundred minas. If said tax payer wants to keep half of the bag,they may do so, and pay fifty minas. Debt will be recorded, but no additional pay is required for waiting.

Special taxes may include war tax, its name self-explanatory. An extra bag, or an extra one hundred minas shall be taxed from all citizens. The other special tax is the construction tax. If a building, boat, road prove to be too expensive and tiresome to build, the identical additional to the War tax shall be taken.

Being in debt for more than an elven month will result in much of your property being taken, or serving an elven day in prison. An alternative would be an elven week worth of forced labor. During the time of forced labor, you may not be harmed by the guards, but will be treated with little less respect, and shall be forced to work thine arms off. There are but a few excuses, and are as follows...

-Loyalty to another country, city state,village, town or city, whose taxation system is much pricier and harsher.

-Heavy injuries such as- stabs, cuts, burns, limb detachment, eye removal, brain damage, and others.

-Absence that was reported to the Guverdur beforehand. Reporting to any other individual is not acceptable, and only I may judge it. ((Either OOC or IC.))

Signed,

Guverdur Beladin Kirvel of Varivik, Proud Blood of Uglijesha.

*walking away from it, you seem puzzled, as some of the things written are harsh. You shrug it off, knowing everything will work as planned, and walk home, eager to see how the first taxing week will turn out.*

[Fid 566]

One question... did Koto approve?

[ski_king3 0]

((3 of each tool in iron is kind of ridiculously high of a price, especially in comparison to the taxes of every other profession))

[XkynarethX 109]

((Smirnovius, this is an IC topic, put brackets. KoTo approved of me being the economical leader, and so, yes, he did. Shaddap. To Jess- I worded that wrong, I didn't mean 3 of each, but one of each, three times during the course of a week. Also, the iron you will be using will be given to you by miners, you only have to create the tools. Unlike wood or stone, there are no stacks in tools. Tools are not long lasting, not even diamond, really. That is why we need a lot of tools. One may be pleased with a stack of coal, but not with one iron pickaxe. Get it? ))

[ski_king3 0]

((Oh well if we are given the iron, then that's fine. Also, tools are long lasting if people pay attention to the durability and stop when they've run out. I know you won't always notice as it gets to the point where you should stop, but everyone should make an effort to stop using nearly broken tools and return them so they can be repaired. But yah, I got ya))

[Fid 566]

((((Touche. I will surround this OOC in DOUBLE DOUBLE brackets just to please you. Now, to business....))

Walking along on his daily jog and smoking his little clay pipe, Ranley notices a paper flapping in the wind. Seeing the "Kirvel Crest" his brows furrow, and he looks closer, reading it. After a minute, a little smirk appears on his face.

"Heh heh...that little upstart." He puffs at his pipe again, "Overstepped yerself, ya have, Beladin. If ya think I'm gonna pay any tax in your name, yer a fool. I'll be talking to Vlad about this..."

[XkynarethX 109]

*waits for Ranley to turn around and kneels down. Placing his arm roughly on his shoulder, he grabs Ranley and looks him deep in the eye with hatred and resentment.*

Runleh! Yoo' chawse d'a wrung persawn t'a mock, and at d'a wrung tuime! Yoo' nuide t'a puy dee'se taxes, 'er else, yoo' dun git t'a sit yoo' ass in MUH FAWTHUH'S hawse anymawr! *Beladin makes it perfectly clear he considers the house Ranley currently occupies Uglijesha's house, as it was his, before being exiled.* Uh recommend yoo' stawp spittin' awvre d'a blood awf Uglijesha. E'r else, yoo' cun git yoo'self killed. *he lets go off his arm, and examines him with loathing. Disgusted, Beladin walks away angrily, and mutters to himself a couple of times* "Yoo' dun mess with d'a Guverdur awf Vurivik, proud blood awf Uglijesha, yoo', yoo'- little 'alflin' ****..."

[Fid 566]

((You aren't there, genius. No one is on the city street, Ranley is looking at a flier...))

[XkynarethX 109]

((I am on the street, genius. The flier is posted on the board, and I always hang out on the main street both in IG, and on the forums. So, yes, I could see you, I approached you, and heard you. Your RP doesn't dictate mine. I was on the streets, and I wasn't forcing you to be on the streets, too. So, you RPed being where my character is, and I responded accordingly. ))

[ski_king3 0]

((let's not let IC disputes affect ooc relations guys, chill or I'll burn down your houses))

[onegarion 1]

*I looks at the flier*

W'at miners 'ave t'at muc' iron? T'is tax be too steep. I be not paying in Iron. i will give me 'ome up. Varivik was to be tax free and now it be very steep. T'is place be going down'ill.

*to himself*

I must talk with Gunjar

[Fid 566]

*I looks at the flier*

W'at miners 'ave t'at muc' iron? T'is tax be too steep. I be not paying in Iron. i will give me 'ome up. Varivik was to be tax free and now it be very steep. T'is place be going down'ill.

*to himself*

I must talk with Gunjar

*Ranley, not at all intimidated by Beladin as he is ((presumably)) surrounded by friends, pushes away Beladin's hand. His eyes burn with rage.

"You seem to think that this new position, or your name, elevates you above any of us. You are wrong, Beladin, for it is not the name that makes the man. I had no respect for your father, and I have no respect for you. You have done nothing to earn it. I will pay your paltry taxes if it keeps the peace, as I respect Vladivoj, but do not think for a moment that I do this because I fear you or your little threats."

* He returns his little pipe to his mouth angrily and looks at Garion, saying gruffly:

"If you wish to stay, I will pay yours as well. I have the necessary funds."

[ski_king3 0]

*Ranley, not at all intimidated by Beladin as he is ((presumably)) surrounded by friends, pushes away Beladin's hand. His eyes burn with rage.

"You seem to think that this new position, or your name, elevates you above any of us. You are wrong, Beladin, for it is not the name that makes the man. I had no respect for your father, and I have no respect for you. You have done nothing to earn it. I will pay your paltry taxes if it keeps the peace, as I respect Vladivoj, but do not think for a moment that I do this because I fear you or your little threats."

* He returns his little pipe to his mouth angrily and looks at Garion, saying gruffly:

"If you wish to stay, I will pay yours as well. I have the necessary funds."

((Day-yum!))

[XkynarethX 109]

*yet again grabs Ranley, this time much more calm. His voice, now lowering to a whisper. He replies slowly to Ranley as he, without blinking gazes into his eyes.*

Whoo' said Uh cawnsiduh muhself mawr d'en yoo'? Uh wus given d'a title, and Uh dun question whuy. Prawbubleh becawse Vladivoj thinks Uh am right f'er d'a positiune. Naw, as f'er respect f'er muh fawthuh, and f'er muh, yoo' whull gain it. If yoo' cawnsiduh disrespectin' puiple arawnd 'ere yoo' muy leave, and regurdluss awf muh position- Uh will slice yoo' fawkin' throat. Uh whull. Jawst yoo' go awff disrespectin' muh fawthuh whoo' was ready t'a DIE f'er une idea, unlike yoo'. Yoo' 'ave nawt sacrificed une single thing in yoo' entire luife.

*Beladin sighs heavily, his hands now cold, and his expression as blank as could possibly be. He looks around, and then averts his peering stare back to Ranley. He decides to add something...*

Awlsow, if yoo' dun remembuh, d'a Kirvels are une dynasty naw. Une noble hawse. Sow, bewure. Yoo' respect nobles, aye? Yoo' whull shawr as 'ell respect d'a Kirvels.

*Beladin lets go of Ranley and storms back to his house, not looking back. He opens his door, and closes it with his leg. Sitting down, he takes a bottle of wine from his basement, and a glass he bought in Arethor. Sipping on it, he start muttering terrible things, angered by Ranley's disrespect.