13-07-2008 05:02 : The County paid its 24.15 pounds debts.
For improving the fame of your town…
13-07-2008 04:00 : For improving the fame of your town on the internet, the authorities have give you a reward of 100 pence.
Day 4 – I Met the Mayor
Today, I arose hungry, smelly, tired, and hungrier still. I never knew two-day-old bread could taste so good. I should have probably saved some for later, but my stomach would not hear of it. I’m sure there’ll be a reckoning later, but for now, I’m somewhat satisfied.
Down at the Cock & Bull, I met Kidcool, the Mayor of Ayr (ha, that rhymes). Allorardagon was there. Later, Ariani popped in and we shot the breeze about the generalities of living on some imagined continent on the other side of the world in the far-flung future.
I stepped out to check my mail and found another 100 pence reward for my promotion of the Kingdom. I think I’m going to like it here.
I returned to the C&B to find Drake_roanoake engrossed in some political housekeeping discussion with the others – most of whom were on the City Council as well. Apparently there was some matter where Allorardagon was promoted to some new post recently. Later, they launched into a flurry of discussion about someone named “Shin” who apparently isn’t well thought of at the moment. I would have liked to have stayed longer, but the mines await. I bid “goodbye” and went on my way.
I won’t go into too much detail about work in the mines since, it’s pretty much the same thing each day (the occasional head-injury not withstanding).
After work, I returned to the C&B and met a few more citizens of Ayr. First, I met Wandress, daughter of Montgomerys and Kern. She’s a local wheat farmer. Lady Beckiboo11, butcher and pig breeder, was also there.
At one point, the topic of joining the RSA came up. Joining a militia seems interesting, but I think I’ll stick around Ayr for the time being to setup a farm and such.
Soon, the conversation turned to career paths and butchery quotas. I confess to drifting off while they spoke. Suddenly, I noticed that the room was quiet and everyone was staring at me. Apparently, the jokes the other miners had been making about my making outrageous statements weren’t jokes at all. The kind (but perplexed) folks at the tavern swear I yelled something about not believing in butter. I have no memory of the incident. Hopefully, these outbursts will occur less frequently as time goes by. Feeling somewhat sheepish, and very tired, I decided to call it a night.
I returned to my shack and spent my remaining waking moments updating this journal.
