Stories of Monsters
Posted: Sun Oct 24, 2010 7:39 am
I'm beating sPtJanly to the punch here with a very silly and dumb story.
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Greetings good sirs,
I hope this letter finds you well. It has come to my attention that you four are the current group who are "hunting" me, as your professional jargon would have it. I would prefer the use of "partisan actions regarding the justified use of personal leisure time," but I understand: obligations to your professional guild and its traditions come first. I will not take it personally.
If anything, I am an open minded individual who looks to judge others not by the colour of their skin, the pointiness of their ears, or even the fuzziness of their feet, but by their actions. Although I was raised to be as intransigent and unfair as others of my standing, I never felt comfortable doing as such. I was and am still the very portrait of a modern, forward thinking employer: my servants are contractual employees with considerable benefits; I insist on giving everyone a fair chance in the great game of life.
Through the years I have made sure to employ a number of talented individuals who would have otherwise gone unnoticed due to the various levels of rampant prejudice and discrimination found in this once great land. In fact, the individuals who helped me in establishing contact with you are some of my best men; yet, before meeting me, they were aimlessly going from one meaningless occupation to the next, suffering from embarrassing blows to their self esteem at the hands of cruel patrons.
I grant you that a behooved caliban, a lisp-afflicted half-hobgoblin, and a puzzlingly hairless albino Barovian are likely to attract some attention were they to unfortunately find themselves entering the same drinking establishment at the same time. But on the field they perform with exceptional efficiency. After all, they found your identities despite your efforts to maintain a cloak of anonymity (figuratively speaking, of course; I am in no way accusing you of the theft of my precious family heirloom).
Having said all this, you might not know this, but I am constantly parting with traditions as I've decided to use my considerable family fortune to better the lives of poor families in my local community. Education, employment, remunerated internship possibilities, and sometimes, even love. I find that it keeps me occupied. Mother did always say that idleness leads to inappropriateness. As well you know.
I am currently reading the reports from my agents - not an easy task as my employee literacy programme is still in its infancy. But if I am to understand this correctly, you have not taken the time to research your subject properly. Sometimes I secretly wish we could go back to the days of Van Richten, when people in your profession were more methodical in their approach.
I suppose I'm an old romantic fool at heart.
So I'll take this opportunity to enlighten you. First and foremost, I assure you that I at no time planned or desired this current "condition" with which I am burdened. I carry it well, or so I'm told by my peers, but it does make social interaction a tad awkward at times. How many times have you been confronted with a surprised "Good sir, I do believe those are your teeth in my neck!"
How am I supposed to answer such a query? "Well yes, it so happens I am a vampire and I drink human blood. But besides that, I am taking a number of steps to ensure positive change in my local community. Have you heard of my recent 'No child without a book' campaign? It's quite progressive and huh... positive, if I do say so myself."
Hardly a situation YOU have to contend with, I'm sure.
Furthermore, as a youth my parents made it very clear that I was to marry the most boring woman in the land. I've met earthworms more engaging than she, alas my family being as they were - which is to say cautious to the point of social, political and economical inertia - they couldn't let their darling boy marry anyone too bold or not as fortunate as they felt our family name warranted.
My kingdom for a plain woman! This frigid, petrified tree I was to whom I was married had no interests, no passion, and possibly no pulse - physical proximity to her was strictly forbidden, not that I would have willingly approached her in any case.
Can you blame this poor, silly boy for falling hopelessly in love with a mysterious stranger with flaming hair and smouldering eyes? A Borcan strain almost extinct now; a rare, magical breed of woman unlike any you've ever randomly encountered due to the dice rolling of the heavens' fortunes. When she moved, her body swayed with the four winds as if dancing. And her charming accent! The way she rolled tongue gave a young, unhappily married man indecent thoughts which I'm sure you may interpret as early signs of my desperate perversion and thoroughly unsavoury character.
You're certainly not the first.
I was young and inexperienced in the ways of life. The woman did not cast a reflection and I do believe I noticed a certain aberration in her dentition - canines a tad too long for a normal human - but I was open minded and very willing to be swept off my feet by her. Her tales of wild adventures under the cover of night made me an easy prey to her temptations.
So, I did what most men in my situation would have done.
The woman, you ask? She left me and I've never heard from her ever again. I do recall seeing her at le confrère's little get together in Port-a-Lucine, but she ignored me.
You see, my existence has had its share of less pleasant moments, just as yours. Moreover, my condition is unique in that I find myself unable to properly depart this physical realm. It gets complicated, but I trust you are slightly smarter or at least serious than some of your predecessors and will understand my plight. I am the Punch and Judy doll of these great celestial entities that decide our fate at the proverbial roll of a dice; forever to return no matter how excruciating and "final" my end may be.
Truth be told, it does make for amusing banter during those all too rare meetings with peers.
"So the other day, I wake up with a stake in my chest. Only the poor sod didn't know which side the heart is located! Oh my! That's nothing; one decided that he would stake me where I would rather not reveal in the presence of polite company. Now that was just tasteless and uncalled for! No respect, I say! Who taught him that, I ask you? Dare I imagine what they will try next?"
And this one time, a group of bold and decidedly adventurous fellows bound and gagged me only to throw me into a raging river. I was sore for a week! My condition does not make me immune to pain, despite what your numerous tomes and manuals might lead you to believe.
And frankly, waking up and nearly choking to death (again) due to a bulb of garlic lodged in my mouth is as unpleasant as you can imagine.
Oh and that ring of powdered holy wafers on the ground? I believe my maid would like to have a few words with you on that subject.
Yet I greet each new evening with a smile and hope for a better tomorrow for all. Consider this letter to be both my formal introduction and a call for peace. Let us bury the hatchet in the ground rather than my neck as I lay sleeping.
Sincerely,
Mr.Jayner Hick III
------------
Greetings good sirs,
I hope this letter finds you well. It has come to my attention that you four are the current group who are "hunting" me, as your professional jargon would have it. I would prefer the use of "partisan actions regarding the justified use of personal leisure time," but I understand: obligations to your professional guild and its traditions come first. I will not take it personally.
If anything, I am an open minded individual who looks to judge others not by the colour of their skin, the pointiness of their ears, or even the fuzziness of their feet, but by their actions. Although I was raised to be as intransigent and unfair as others of my standing, I never felt comfortable doing as such. I was and am still the very portrait of a modern, forward thinking employer: my servants are contractual employees with considerable benefits; I insist on giving everyone a fair chance in the great game of life.
Through the years I have made sure to employ a number of talented individuals who would have otherwise gone unnoticed due to the various levels of rampant prejudice and discrimination found in this once great land. In fact, the individuals who helped me in establishing contact with you are some of my best men; yet, before meeting me, they were aimlessly going from one meaningless occupation to the next, suffering from embarrassing blows to their self esteem at the hands of cruel patrons.
I grant you that a behooved caliban, a lisp-afflicted half-hobgoblin, and a puzzlingly hairless albino Barovian are likely to attract some attention were they to unfortunately find themselves entering the same drinking establishment at the same time. But on the field they perform with exceptional efficiency. After all, they found your identities despite your efforts to maintain a cloak of anonymity (figuratively speaking, of course; I am in no way accusing you of the theft of my precious family heirloom).
Having said all this, you might not know this, but I am constantly parting with traditions as I've decided to use my considerable family fortune to better the lives of poor families in my local community. Education, employment, remunerated internship possibilities, and sometimes, even love. I find that it keeps me occupied. Mother did always say that idleness leads to inappropriateness. As well you know.
I am currently reading the reports from my agents - not an easy task as my employee literacy programme is still in its infancy. But if I am to understand this correctly, you have not taken the time to research your subject properly. Sometimes I secretly wish we could go back to the days of Van Richten, when people in your profession were more methodical in their approach.
I suppose I'm an old romantic fool at heart.
So I'll take this opportunity to enlighten you. First and foremost, I assure you that I at no time planned or desired this current "condition" with which I am burdened. I carry it well, or so I'm told by my peers, but it does make social interaction a tad awkward at times. How many times have you been confronted with a surprised "Good sir, I do believe those are your teeth in my neck!"
How am I supposed to answer such a query? "Well yes, it so happens I am a vampire and I drink human blood. But besides that, I am taking a number of steps to ensure positive change in my local community. Have you heard of my recent 'No child without a book' campaign? It's quite progressive and huh... positive, if I do say so myself."
Hardly a situation YOU have to contend with, I'm sure.
Furthermore, as a youth my parents made it very clear that I was to marry the most boring woman in the land. I've met earthworms more engaging than she, alas my family being as they were - which is to say cautious to the point of social, political and economical inertia - they couldn't let their darling boy marry anyone too bold or not as fortunate as they felt our family name warranted.
My kingdom for a plain woman! This frigid, petrified tree I was to whom I was married had no interests, no passion, and possibly no pulse - physical proximity to her was strictly forbidden, not that I would have willingly approached her in any case.
Can you blame this poor, silly boy for falling hopelessly in love with a mysterious stranger with flaming hair and smouldering eyes? A Borcan strain almost extinct now; a rare, magical breed of woman unlike any you've ever randomly encountered due to the dice rolling of the heavens' fortunes. When she moved, her body swayed with the four winds as if dancing. And her charming accent! The way she rolled tongue gave a young, unhappily married man indecent thoughts which I'm sure you may interpret as early signs of my desperate perversion and thoroughly unsavoury character.
You're certainly not the first.
I was young and inexperienced in the ways of life. The woman did not cast a reflection and I do believe I noticed a certain aberration in her dentition - canines a tad too long for a normal human - but I was open minded and very willing to be swept off my feet by her. Her tales of wild adventures under the cover of night made me an easy prey to her temptations.
So, I did what most men in my situation would have done.
The woman, you ask? She left me and I've never heard from her ever again. I do recall seeing her at le confrère's little get together in Port-a-Lucine, but she ignored me.
You see, my existence has had its share of less pleasant moments, just as yours. Moreover, my condition is unique in that I find myself unable to properly depart this physical realm. It gets complicated, but I trust you are slightly smarter or at least serious than some of your predecessors and will understand my plight. I am the Punch and Judy doll of these great celestial entities that decide our fate at the proverbial roll of a dice; forever to return no matter how excruciating and "final" my end may be.
Truth be told, it does make for amusing banter during those all too rare meetings with peers.
"So the other day, I wake up with a stake in my chest. Only the poor sod didn't know which side the heart is located! Oh my! That's nothing; one decided that he would stake me where I would rather not reveal in the presence of polite company. Now that was just tasteless and uncalled for! No respect, I say! Who taught him that, I ask you? Dare I imagine what they will try next?"
And this one time, a group of bold and decidedly adventurous fellows bound and gagged me only to throw me into a raging river. I was sore for a week! My condition does not make me immune to pain, despite what your numerous tomes and manuals might lead you to believe.
And frankly, waking up and nearly choking to death (again) due to a bulb of garlic lodged in my mouth is as unpleasant as you can imagine.
Oh and that ring of powdered holy wafers on the ground? I believe my maid would like to have a few words with you on that subject.
Yet I greet each new evening with a smile and hope for a better tomorrow for all. Consider this letter to be both my formal introduction and a call for peace. Let us bury the hatchet in the ground rather than my neck as I lay sleeping.
Sincerely,
Mr.Jayner Hick III