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| The Barony of the Westermark | |||||
| Thug of the Westermark -- Sir Geoffrey Scott | |||||
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Upon this 15th of July, AS XVI, being the Feastday of St. Vladimir, does Sir Geoffrey Scott send greetings unto Their Most Virile and Fertile Excellencies, Baron Martin and Baroness Chiara. One year has passed since You bestowed upon me the grand and glorious title of Thug o' da Westermark. In this time, I have traveled far, spreading the philosophy of Thug across the known world, from the fields of CIAD to the deserts of Atenvelt, from the lush hills of Aethelmearc to the halls of lushes of Allyshia. Verily, did many become educated on what it was to get thugged. And all was right in my world as I followed the teachings of that wise old Muppet who was loved by all. And so I continued, singing to myself: T is for thuggy, that's good enough for me. T is for thuggy, that's good enough for me. T is for thuggy, that's good enough for me. Oh, thuggy, thuggy, thuggy starts with T. I know, Your Excellencies, that this sounds like an idyllic lifestyle. However, much like the Cookie Monster, I have become enlightened. I have come to realize that thuggy is only a sometimes mood. It is the repercussions of this enlightenment that preclude my attendance at Your fine event. My penance has required that I travel yet again, this time far to the north to the lands of Oertha. Good luck in Your selection of my successor. May You have many fine candidates to choose Your next Thug and Shepherd from. For my last bit of counsel as Your Thug, I would caution You that perhaps the one who wishes to become a shepherd is the same as the one that the sheep need protecting against the most. Know that although I will no longer be Your Thug, I will raise my glass in celebration of Her Sexylency's birthday on the morrow. Honored to be Your Thug, Viscount Geoffrey Scott Knight of the West With this missive, please find the regalia of my office: One spiked club, large, died with the blood of Your foes. One helmet, horned. |
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