Darklocke and Tomo's Social Column

Vol I, Issue 2: 48 Fire 1601

Tomo: Hello, readers! Welcome to the latest installment of Darklocke and Tomo's Social Column. So, Darklocke, I hear you got into a spot of trouble with our last column -- just where were you during the Feast, anyways?

Darklocke: Ah, you didn't see me, did you? Then it is evident I have fooled you all, for I was there... oh yes, I was there, taking notes of gossip as ever the skilled observer.

T: Uh huh.

D: Lurking as one within the shadows only more still... still, silent such that the slightest flickering echos of shapes cast against the walls by the candlelight seemed dancing the most frantic of jigs in comparison to my--

T: Got lost, didn't you?

D: ... yes, well, it wasn't my fault. Damien was the one in charge of handing out maps to this thing.

T: "Go to town, wait for the portal to be opened."

D: Well, certainly that was easy to follow after the first part. That's why no one else had trouble getting there; no one else had to follow the first part of the map.

T: Dare I ask?

D: How to get out of Da Guild Hall. Rowan moved his bunk again. Some strange woodland creature was scratching at the wall outside where he was and it creeped him out so he moved. So he keeps moving his bunk away from the wall. Threw everything way off.

T: So that's why Damien showed up late.

D: At least he made it out. You'd think he'd have left a trail of Fey Stick dust for me to follow out. It had all mysteriously disappeared though.

T: Now that explains why Lia had a big grin on her face all night.

D: Must be -- unless that's somehow tied in with Damien being late.

T: I so didn't want to know that.

D: At any rate, which particular spot of trouble were you referring to my getting into with our last column? And I want you all to take a moment to marvel at the grammatical beauty of that last interrogative.

T: Grammatical what? Sensei Himeno would call that "grammatical idiocy".

D: Of course he would, but that's just one of those language barrier mix-ups of communication, right? Right?

T: Nevermind. The bit of trouble I'm referring to was something about Eduard being upset about not being mentioned in the last column. I had heard that you had gotten taken in for "questioning".

D: It was the strangest thing. You'd have thought being left out of our gossip column would have been appreciated by most as having not become a target to our rumors.

T: You're approaching grammatical idiocy again.

D: Thank you! At any rate, he had me "taken in" only to mention that by not mentioning him it made things even more suspicious than if he had been mentioned.

T: I follow you. But keep in mind the average reader of our work.

D: Oh it's simple enough. Something about hiding in the open or whatever. If there are rumors published, people discount them more than if they hadn't heard anything at all. Anyway, he suggested we speak about his well-known shouting match with Governor Tempus. And, as you were so skilled in finding out the bulk of it, why don't you explain the silly little thing that was all really about?

T: Well, apparently, it seems that Eduard is more than a Galenese guard.

D: I could have told you that. He's also a drunk, heh.

T: No no no, I mean, he has a loving side to him.

D: That's what I'm saying: he's loves drinking!

T: No no no! Apparently, he's a Council Troop Leader in Elmer's Tree Caretakers.

D: Yes, of course he is. So, let's get back to him being a drunk--

T: No, I'm serious! Have you ever wondered why you never see Eduard around a lot?

D: Well, I always figured he was off drinking.

T: So I thought, but it turns out that he's been out planting trees, clearing trails, cultivating flowers--

D: Ohhhh, I get it. You're the one who's been drinking!

T: Obviously; how else do you think I'd stand your company?

D: So he's been out picking flowers?

T: And not getting any recognition for it.

D: No no, I mean, picking flowers for who?

T: Guess!

D: Uhh... well, lesse. Well, actually, I've been trying to understand this rumor about those Council Troop cookies.

T: Exactly!

D: No!

T: Yes!

D: So it's true?

T: What is?

D: That those Council Troop cookies contain some of the more questionable varieties of plant and flower-life from the Frontier woods. I had thought the addiction to those things was more than a little peculiar. And with Eduard out picking plants for the Council Troop he's introducing a newer, dangerous yet more profitable element than Spice into the settlement. No wonder Tempus had a hissy fit.

T: "Hissy fit"? Tempus? Governor Tempus you're speaking about here?

D: Well, it did involve lots of shouting.

T: Shouting "slay" and "die you rebel scum" and "death to all poets", I'll bet.

D: Well, uhh, so, getting back to the cookies--

T: (Guess I was right.)

D: To think, this man representing the Galenese guard is infusing our cookies with the magically seductive, dream-inducing, dismally poisonous--

T: Hey, so which are you anyways, rebel scum or a poet?

D: I'm going to ignore that. Anyway, the shouting match. Think about the consequences of Eduard's actions in the eyes of Galen. This man representing the Galenese guard is infusing our cookies with the magically seductive, dream-inducing, dismally poisonous, deadly addictive scourge of the darkest... vilest..... umm...

T: I like the mint ones.

D: minty-fla-- no no no, you're no help.

T: Sorry. Look, so he's selling addictive cookies. Who isn't?

D: Actually, not "magic cookies"... more like, well, "high in extra special ingredients". Avalon Deathwater makes magic cookies, but that's another rumor in itself.

T: Wait, really? Magic cookies? What are they like?

D: Just like tavern cookies only... more moist.

T: What's she do, lick the tavern cookies then put them back on the plate?

D: Oh, so you have heard of them. Never mind.

T: So Eduard's selling addictive cookies. Like I said: who isn't these days?

D: The Dandalo's aren't.

T: What?

D: Think about it: Galen's partially peopled with Dandalos, as everyone knows, and Dandalos are used to having people not trust them as they are not trusted by us...

T: everyone... them... they... hang on, I'll figure out those antecedents in a few years... us...

D: So, at any rate, the Dandalos aren't selling Eduard's magic cookies. Turns out that they're selling someone else's potent stuff.

T: Whose?

D: Punjam's!

T: This is too weird.

D: Don't you see how obvious it is? The Dandalos are trying to take over Galen, right? So, they've got to make alliances, right?

T: With a cookie maker.

D: Exactly! The dreaded Alhadim Cookie Manufacturers' Enterprise!

T: "Dreaded". Next you'll say that they're about to invade the Frontier with their puissant peanut butter undead cookies... the greater undead cookies have been stale longer, I take it. So tell me, why have I never heard of them?

D: Great, I've met a man who uses "puissant" in conversation. Of course you've heard of them -- they're everywhere! Have you seen those crates in the Dandalo manor? Oh, sure, they're marked ACME Paper Plates, but my sources have told me that "Paper Plates" is a codeword for "crossbow".

T: So they're stockpiling weapons?

D: Not just weapons, but get this: they're also hoarding two-handed war sporks.

T: I take that back. I don't need a drink; I need a mace through both eyes.

D: But it all makes sense!

T:: And where the heck did they get war sporks? Look, a bunch of Alhadim smuggling crossbows inside giant cookies I can see, but war sporks? You can't fit that into a cookie, no matter how big it is!

D: No no no, not through ACME! But I haven't heard who.

T: Waaaaaait a minute, I only know of one source of that.

D: Really? Enlighten me.

T: Jack!

D: Jack, that scoundrel, seriously? I've been waiting to get some good dirt on that guy! How does he do it?

T: It's easy, if you think about it.

D: But, ulp--... Uhhh, hi, Jack. Sorry, Tomo, I lost all train of thought, suddenly.... I'm guessing you're not thinking about it anymore.

T: No no no, not at all. What gave you that idea?

D: Well, Mikey is only about an inch from your right eyeball.

T: More like a quarter-inch away.

D: (Where the heck did Jack come from anyways?) So, uhh, Jack, want a mint cookie? No? What? ... We have to cut this column short? Oh, "cut", I get it, good one, heh... umm... okay... but...

T: Just end it already, Darklocke! I'm looking at millimeters away now!

D: Oh very well. Until next time, folks, that's Tomo, desperately wishing he had a war spork.

T: And that's Darklocke, who can hopefully drag my body down to Death.