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UBBFriend: Email this page to someone! This topic comprises 34 pages: 1 2 3 ... 31 32 33 34 Author Topic: A Taxing Time - A Discworld RPG Thumpy
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posted March 25, 2009 01:29 PM
"Well, whatever they were thinking, this has sure saved us a mess of trouble. I wasn't looking forward to asking the Watch for help."
Looking up at the clock, Illyah saw it was past time.
"I imagine the others have decided to pass on dinner."
Dropping the empty bag onto the pile that was growing on the floor, Illyah offered his arm to Candice.
"Well my dear, looks like it's just us. Shall we go?"
-
Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care. -Terry Pratchett
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Thumpy
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posted March 28, 2009 01:02 PM
having a second thought about the others, Illyah hand wrote a note to leave on the front door.
It read:
Meet us at Banakafalata's Steak House on Cheap Street just down from Keeble's Job Shop.
Seeing the look appear on her face, he explained to candice that Banakafalata used to be the head chef at Sham Harga's House of Ribs.
"That is, until an unfortunate episode involving a dwarf, a troll and a disagreement over proper seasoning. After the kitchen was rebuilt, Bana decided he wanted his own place."
Closing the door behind them, Illyah made sure it was locked tight before walking off.
Inside, the last few grains of gold dust fell from the machine, collecting on the considerable pile. There was the faintest little *snik* as the flooboard under the bucket unhinged and the whole thing slowly sank under the floor.
A few seconds later, the bucket returned - empty.
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Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care. -Terry Pratchett
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adie
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posted April 05, 2009 07:08 AM
Candice was still a bit concerned about her Boss's choice of resturant...she hadnt even heard of Hargas House of ribs. But if it was below her level of dining, she wouldnt stay long.
Candice was quite suprised by the quality of the food, even though the place looked - and smelt - disgusting. She even appreciated the fact that the people here left her alone.
"I know someone who can look at that counting machine" Candice said to Illyah as she tucked into her steak - well she hoped it was steak,anyway. "I'm pretty sure its broken."
-
Video games dont affect kids. I mean, if Pacman affected us as kids we'd all be running around in a darkened room munching pills and listening to repetitive music...
-Just a thought...
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Thumpy
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posted April 22, 2009 01:15 PM
Illyah was also glad for the quiet dinner. He was afraid that someone would recognize either Candice or himself and start trouble.
The food was good and he enjoyed the company; Illyah wasn't exactly a social butterfly.
"Fix the machine? Hmmm, I guess. Wasn't paying attention. I'm just glad it works at all; most of the things we had in the Watch were hardly what you'd call in working order."
For some reason, mentioning the Watch gave him a slight pang of home-sickness. He had been comfortable there and hadn't planned on leaving - at least not so suddenly.
Studying the other guests eating at their tables, Illyah noticed one man averting his eyes rather quickly.
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Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care. -Terry Pratchett
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Thumpy
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posted May 19, 2009 03:51 AM
After walking Candice home, Illyah decided to take the long way around to his place; this meant passing by the Tax Office.
As he got closer, he saw a piece of paper tacked to the door. Thinking it was left by the clowns, he took it down and read -
Delivery made on time. Left parcel in the usual place. Thank you for your service. Hope you approve.
He really had no idea what to make of this and, not seeing any parcel on the steps, unlocked the door and stepped inside.
A single lamp was flickering on one of the desks and there, neatly wrapped in plain brown paper, was a small package addressed to him.
Hmmm.
Tearing away the paper revealed a very intricate and beautiful - and also very gold - shield. It appeared to be the offical shield of the Tax Coordinator! It was about 6 inches high and less than a half inch thick; too big to be worn, too small to be placed...
Wait a minute.
Illyah turned and looked at each of the desks in the office. He remembered the beautiful gold inlay that each had - since his first day, he had wondered where they had come from and who had commissioned them.
Walking closer to his own desk, he saw the carved space on the front. Holding the gold shield up to the opening, he could see that it would fit perfectly. In fact, it did fit perfectly. Stepping back, Illyah admired the work.
The thing that bothered him about this was the lack of a name or title on the parcel, no name on the note - and now - where was the gold coming from? Who had extra gold just laying around in such quantities to make beautiful and anonymous gifts such as these?
Illyah had been in the Watch a lot longer than he'd been the AM Tax Coordinator. He was more or less used to the idea that Watch officers often received certain...uh, gifts, from the general public. Some were in appreciation for a job well done, or for simply looking the other way at just the right time. It's the way things were done.
However, if he was a bit quicker on the uptake, he would know that accepting 'gifts' while working in the capacity of a city official could be seen as a bit shady.
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Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care. -Terry Pratchett
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Thumpy
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posted June 16, 2009 04:38 AM
Illyah lay in bed staring out into the night sky, like he had done every night for the last few months. He didn t get around much these days and lately the pressure in his chest was becoming more pronounced. Vetinari had seen to it many years ago that he would receive the best care available when the need arose and the hospital that resulted was a fine addition to the city.
In the corner sat a new caretaker; he d never seen this one before and could just make out the very pale features and the piercing blue eyes. The man was very quiet Illyah hadn t even heard him enter the room.
It would be a nice night for a walk I reckon.
YES. YES IT WOULD.
The Tax Collectors Office had been closed for good a year after Illyah and the team resumed operations. They had been able to collect every penny owed from the guilds in a fairly short time, and despite a few set-backs, always bounced back in time for the next job. The threat of reopening the office had been enough to keep the tax dollars coming in regularly.
Of course, resolving one little mystery had helped the reputation of the office immensely; after some prompting from Candice, Illyah had the counting machine checked and found a built in fault; every coin counted was shaved just a bit around the edges. The resulting pile of gold dust was removed by a weight activated system and carted off by way of a contract with certain shady types.
All that decoration around the office was from the gold dust. A short investigation showed that the previous collectors had sought to use the decorations as a kind of retirement fund shorting the city of thousands in tax dollars. Too bad they all mysteriously disappeared on a trip to the Assassins Guild.
Under Meera s rule, the assassins had become more of an asset to the city and had been instrumental in thwarting a major attack on the good people of Ankh-Morpork.
Sasha and Candice had, against all odds become the best of friends and for years operated a school for the less fortunate children of the city. Several had gone on to prestigious government positions
Nathan had remained a mystery. Illyah figured he did it on purpose. Last he knew, Nathan had undertaken a job in Genua in something called special operations.
I didn t know he d become a doctor.
Geesh. How did you ever make it this far? Thick as a post sometimes.
It was getting colder, but he really hated being in the bed. Just a chance to walk the streets again that s all he needed. Fresh air, get the pulse up, pump those legs he d be right as rain.
I THINK IT MIGHT BE TIME.
For a walk? I d really like to walk around for a bit.
A WALK? CERTAINLY. HOW FAR YOU GO IS UP TO YOU.
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Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care. -Terry Pratchett
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