| The Willow Sourcebook |
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"A Prefect with wealth / Is bad for one's health," goes the proverb in Nelwyn Valley. But when a rich Prefect comes to power in a village, that proverb is never spoken... at least not above a whisper. Citizens know that provoking a Prefect's temper is, well, bad for one's health. Willow knows. BURGLEKUTT'S RISE In his youth, when the Ageless Oak in Willow's village rose no higher than a miner's ladder, Burglekutt had not yet become wealthy. "Money, phaugh!" he tells young Nelwyns now. "I had not the gold to fill a hen's tooth, nor silver to the width of a baby's hair. I earned every coin of my fortune through hard work at low wages, and no complaints from me!" The "hard work" Burglekutt speaks of was his early marriage to Klondetta, daughter of the village cobbler. The old shoemaker was said to have hidden wealth. That rumor was the only asset Klondetta had in securing a husband, for she was homely, shrill, dull, lazy, and quarrelsome. But young Burglekutt swore undying love for Klondetta. They had their first fight over how to put the ring on her finger at the wedding, the second over what songs to sing at the reception, and other quarrels followed at roughly equal intervals for the next several years. Burglekutt may have made "no complaints," but at the village tavern he offered many spirited commentaries on Klondetta's manners, her dreadful cooking, their home, his poverty, her befuddled father, the father's customers, and the way Klondetta snored. At last the old man died, leaving Klondetta a small inheritance, but giving Burglekutt nothing but his cobbling tools. Burglekutt despised shoemaking and Klondetta equally, and - since Klondetta showed no urge to spend her legacy - the couple's quarrels grew louder every day. Burglekutt, never charming in the first place, now took on the surly demeanor that marks him today. Years passed. The Ageless Oak grew a few more rings, but its trunk expanded slightly less than Burglekutt's did. Then one summer night a heavy thunderstorm rolled into Nelwyn Valley. Lightning bolts set several patches of forest afire. The fire spread to the home of Burglekutt and Klondetta. It was late at night, and the village firemen were asleep. The wooden hut went up like, well, firewood. Burglekutt escaped narrowly, wearing nothing but his nightshirt and clutching nothing but his meager savings (his most prized possession). Klondetta did not escape. "How tragic!" said Burglekutt. After the fire, Burglekutt rooted through the wreckage until he found a burnt sack of coins - Klondetta's legacy, which had been well hidden during her life. Burglekutt used it to repair his home. After a mourning period of well over a day and a half, he let it be known that he was running for the council. THE ELECTION He kicked off his campaign with a lavish party in the town square. It must have cost most of his legacy, for he had loaves of fresh bread stacked high like bricks, sliced copperback with red sauce served cold, salad in heaping bowls, grilled trout, onion soup under thick cheese crusts, shaved ice flavored with fruit juice (to clear the palate), a ham as large as a child, glistening fried fowl in crisp skins that made the mouth water, sautéed vegetables bought from every garden in town, water, wine, eggnog, and - rarest of treats! - ice cream. Burglekutt secured many friends, or at least voters, at his party. More parties followed. Though no villagers could call him genial, they could believe that laying a good table shows administrative ability. Burglekutt's opponent was Orlin Openwall, well respected but not well-to-do. He threw no parties; he felt it was not appropriate behavior for a candidate. But Orlin's closest friends and supporters, while complaining about Burglekutt's "fancy spending," still stood in line for seconds at Burglekutt's feasts. Yet Orlin stuck to his principles, never threw a party, and never attended Burglekutt's - though during the feasts he was left practically alone in the village. Elections in Nelwyn villages are usually relaxed affairs. But as this election approached, all talk turned to the contest. Women chatted about the town well for hours. Old ale-drinking farmers in the village commons actually argued the candidates' merits (unheard of!). Opinion favored Orlin over Burglekutt, but not definitely. And Orlin was known to be worried. The night before the election, with the vote too close to call, Burglekutt paid a visit to Orlin's small dwelling. No one knows what they discussed, but the talk lasted hours. The next morning both candidates rose early, and both said they had slept peacefully. Burglekutt journeyed to the polls in the town commons, but instead of putting his vote-stone in the appropriate bowl, he climbed onto the poll table. "Friends," he cried to the puzzled crowd, "I report with deep and genuine sorrow that illness prevents me from serving on the council, should you decide to elevate me so. In accepting your wishes for a speedy recovery, I ask in return that you elect Orlin, a Nelwyn closer to me than brother's blood." Orlin won splendidly. The villagers agreed Burglekutt had withdrawn with grace and good spirit, though they were surprised to learn he was sick. Fortunately the disease, whatever it was, passed quickly. Orlin served well on the council, and became Burglekutt's close associate. Now the aged village Prefect, Corbell, had served faithfully for many years. Everyone knew he would soon pass on. Not unexpectedly, he fell mortally ill a few months after the election and resigned his office. The council met to discuss the appointment of his successor. Though Corbell recommended several likely replacements, council member Orlin argued strongly for Burglekutt. The rest of the council had enjoyed Burglekutt's lavish parties, and when Corbell finally died during deliberations, Orlin's nomination carried the day. When the council informed Burglekutt, he said, "Bless me, I never expected this high honor!" By sheer luck he had been perusing the village bylaws, and had become familiar with the Prefect's office. Overcoming his astonishment, he plunged into his duties with vigor. THE PREFECTURE AND THE PREFECT Council members are elected by the villagers, but the Prefect is appointed by the council, for life. The Prefect manages the village's day-to-day upkeep, supervises the huge Articles, presides (with the High Aldwin) at weddings, performs minor administrative functions, and - most important - collects taxes. Burglekutt's generosity seemed to grow with his fortune, for he was happy to pay many struggling farmers' taxes himself. All he asked as collateral was the deeds to their farms. No one worried much about this as the years passed. Then there were two bad growing years in a row, and suddenly Burglekutt owned many a farm in Willow's village. Ufgood Reach, Willow's farm, was one of the few holdouts. Burglekutt coveted that narrow strip of riverfront land with the greed of a child who wants every single blueberry on a bush. Schnorr Ufgood had never borrowed money, a wise practice that his son, Willow, continued. But Burglekutt had other ways to get at Ufgood Reach. He bought up every merchant's farm equipment and seed grain, then tripled the prices. "Supply and demand," he said, responding to villagers' objections. Of course, Burglekutt's farms had the supply at no cost, while Willow couldn't afford to demand an ounce of seed. By the time Elora drifted to the shore of Ufgood Reach, Willow was stretched thin. He borrowed seed grain from friendly neighbors, then (to avoid getting the neighbors in trouble) told Burglekutt that he and his family had gathered the grain in the wild. The dodge infuriated Burglekutt. Elora and the mission to the crossroads looked to Burglekutt like a convenient way to dispose of Willow and take his farm. But the High Aldwin saw through that scheme and sent Burglekutt along! The cowardly Prefect then had to take Vohnkar and his soldiers to defend himself - and incidentally Willow and the child. Of course, once they arrived at the crossroads, Burglekutt wanted to get rid of Elora as soon as possible and get home. If that meant leaving Willow and Meegosh behind, so much the better for Burglekutt. But when Willow returned in triumph from his adventure, now in command of powerful magic, Burglekutt realized the balance of power in the village had shifted. GAMING NOTES 1st skill-level thief SKILLS Politics, oratory, bullying, extortion, market manipulation. Absolutely no combat skills. EQUIPMENT Assessor's notebook, money pouch. |
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