Post by Cass on Dec 6, 2011 9:12:24 GMT 10
To: Shhasow
Message: Hope you like!
From: Cass
Title: Dearest Author
Rating: PG
Words: 533
Wishlist Item: #5, gratuitous sarcastic Neal
Summary: Neal writes a letter, and the author gets to try out some of her SAT vocab.
To the esteemed author of Tortallan Political Philosophy, 120-180 H.E.;
I recently purchased your book, intending it as some light reading while being dragged from village to village by my erstwhile knight-mistress, the inimitable and indomitable Sir Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau. Imagine my surprise when, after a long day of healing sniffles and being whacked at with sticks by the devilish fiends marauding as my knight-mistress's children, I sat down not to an enjoyable discourse on our realm's body politic, but a text rife with errors, incorrect citations, and a complete misrepresentation of several of my honorable ancestors.
To begin: the era you, my good sir of Irimor, chose to focus on. I was bereft when the latter chapters of the book shamefully neglected Tortallan policy towards the Copper Isles and overthrow of Kyprish rulers. I recall a fascinating examination of the diplomatic efforts of Myron of Elden, published by his great-great grandson. It is freely available-- one of the better texts I was assigned at university-- and I would advise you read it, before undertaking the next installment in your research. Yet this is but a minor complaint, inconsequential compared to your other historical errors (I would only be so happy to provide a well-researched list upon your further request) and befoulment of the Queenscove name.
The ducal house of Queenscove is one of the four pillars of the realm. We have served the Conte line proudly and honorably for centuries, far surpassing the efforts of a piddling historian from Irimor. Your attacks were unwarranted, and I am formally requesting that you publish a correction in your next installment or the revised edition of this book, whichever is to come first.
Firstly: Brandan of Queenscove's advice to the council in 138 H.E. on the establishment of trade with Tyra was not ill advice. While you argue that it was an overreach of the council's power, I beg to differ. The trade routes helped cities on the Tortallan-Tyran border flourish, and strengthened our relationship. There are streets named after Brandan in the main stretch of the city; no matter that they often flood. Secondly, Brandan's wife Aalis was not a whore. How dare you call such a revered women such--
Blinking, Kel put down the paper and rubbed her eyes.
"Neal," she said. "Not to belabor the point, but you can't say that, technically he's right. Aalis of Queenscove was a whore. You told me so yourself, when you were talking about great love stories-- remember? Brandan went out to the Lower City in search of flower girls one night when he was drunk and met her on a street corner, then married her two weeks later."
Neal scowled. "He's insulting my ancestors, Kel! I am only responding with the means available!"
There was a pause, and then-- "you know I'm not letting you send this, right? That poor man."
Neal scowled again; another, darker scowl. "What would you say if he wrote things about varying Mindelans?"
"We've only been ennobled a few generations, so I'm not too worried about it." Kel stood up. "And really. You do realize you're embroiled in an argument about trade from three centuries ago, right?"
Neal sighed.
Message: Hope you like!
From: Cass
Title: Dearest Author
Rating: PG
Words: 533
Wishlist Item: #5, gratuitous sarcastic Neal
Summary: Neal writes a letter, and the author gets to try out some of her SAT vocab.
To the esteemed author of Tortallan Political Philosophy, 120-180 H.E.;
I recently purchased your book, intending it as some light reading while being dragged from village to village by my erstwhile knight-mistress, the inimitable and indomitable Sir Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau. Imagine my surprise when, after a long day of healing sniffles and being whacked at with sticks by the devilish fiends marauding as my knight-mistress's children, I sat down not to an enjoyable discourse on our realm's body politic, but a text rife with errors, incorrect citations, and a complete misrepresentation of several of my honorable ancestors.
To begin: the era you, my good sir of Irimor, chose to focus on. I was bereft when the latter chapters of the book shamefully neglected Tortallan policy towards the Copper Isles and overthrow of Kyprish rulers. I recall a fascinating examination of the diplomatic efforts of Myron of Elden, published by his great-great grandson. It is freely available-- one of the better texts I was assigned at university-- and I would advise you read it, before undertaking the next installment in your research. Yet this is but a minor complaint, inconsequential compared to your other historical errors (I would only be so happy to provide a well-researched list upon your further request) and befoulment of the Queenscove name.
The ducal house of Queenscove is one of the four pillars of the realm. We have served the Conte line proudly and honorably for centuries, far surpassing the efforts of a piddling historian from Irimor. Your attacks were unwarranted, and I am formally requesting that you publish a correction in your next installment or the revised edition of this book, whichever is to come first.
Firstly: Brandan of Queenscove's advice to the council in 138 H.E. on the establishment of trade with Tyra was not ill advice. While you argue that it was an overreach of the council's power, I beg to differ. The trade routes helped cities on the Tortallan-Tyran border flourish, and strengthened our relationship. There are streets named after Brandan in the main stretch of the city; no matter that they often flood. Secondly, Brandan's wife Aalis was not a whore. How dare you call such a revered women such--
Blinking, Kel put down the paper and rubbed her eyes.
"Neal," she said. "Not to belabor the point, but you can't say that, technically he's right. Aalis of Queenscove was a whore. You told me so yourself, when you were talking about great love stories-- remember? Brandan went out to the Lower City in search of flower girls one night when he was drunk and met her on a street corner, then married her two weeks later."
Neal scowled. "He's insulting my ancestors, Kel! I am only responding with the means available!"
There was a pause, and then-- "you know I'm not letting you send this, right? That poor man."
Neal scowled again; another, darker scowl. "What would you say if he wrote things about varying Mindelans?"
"We've only been ennobled a few generations, so I'm not too worried about it." Kel stood up. "And really. You do realize you're embroiled in an argument about trade from three centuries ago, right?"
Neal sighed.