IB Session 2: The Clever Greengrocer
General Summary
Excerpt from the journal of George “Geo” Vechian II...
I rose early to write an accurate reflection of the past day, should I need to reflect upon these memories for posterity’s sake. Most of yesterday was a blur of activity, hazy in the tedium of decorum. Events reached a new state of clarity after I was brought before the dead form of my wife. It was pointed out to me by Spark of Life, a tabaxi sellsword and recipient of a bequeathment by my deceased father, that my wife had the faint impression of a handprint on her body, lightly obfuscated by clothing. Something derived from supernatural means, rather than the more mundane origin of bruising or tattooing. It was a pointed question by the tabaxi - “When was the last time you slept with your wife?” - that drove me to reminisce about the past by her bedside. Our marriage was cold, arranged as a political alliance by my father after Rhiannon passed away suddenly from illness. I made my way downstairs at my own pace, gathering some final possessions and entrusting the door key with Mme. Chouet. As I gathered Thierry from the bathroom, I realized that a few of the group that had gathered around my room had left. Mme. Starr had made an exit, as had my sister-in-law. My former business associate from years ago, M. Menard, had also stormed away. We made our way back to the sitting room, where the fateful will reading that started this mess occurred, sitting in silence (aside from Daniel’s snoring from the dining room). Starr soon returned, followed by Lucas, his daughter, Menard, and the elusive Mme. Anastasia. Menard was apparently destroying the contents of my father’s wine cellar, property that was rightfully mine through the bequeathment to Lucina. In his intoxicated monastic fervour, he stumbled upon the shabby form of Anastasia somewhere in the basement. As a child, in a time so distant that it seemed like a dream, my father told me stories of an old friend of his by that name. A figure with a regal bearing, despite her Rover origins. A folk hero and monster hunter. What a cruel mistress time is, reducing both her and my father to shells of their former selves. We were still missing Aunt Christa, my idiot brother, and his wife among our company. Mme. Talzerine and Starr made their way upstairs to find them. A few of the group downstairs, Menard chiefly among them, made the observation of the specific allocations of company ownership dictated in my father’s will. As they stood now, Daniel controlled 66% of the company, necessitating me to court Talzerine’s favor in order to block a 67% deciding majority for corporate actions. As I stewed on my future, the still-absent aforementioned ladies were noted and addressed by Menard and Aura of Passion, who also went upstairs to join the search. As we waited downstairs, my eyes were drawn to a copy of Fables de la Fontaine, specifically the copy I would read as a child. My hands wore these pages down, devouring stories and looking in awe at the illustrations. I passed the time reading a few to Thierry to calm him down and help the weight of his mother’s passing sink in. It was around this moment that my brother and his wife made a return downstairs. I entertained the idea of hiring Spark as a bodyguard and acted on my intuition of his financially motivated mindset; I was relieved when he readily accepted. Suddenly, the four that had gone upstairs to search - Starr, Talzerine, Menard, and Aura - returned bearing news that Aunt Christa was found dead, hanging by her neck around a light fixture. They had stumbled upon this scene on the third floor while investigating other matters. Menard claimed to have seen a silhouette descending to the first floor along the outside of the estate, details masked by rainfall. Both Starr and Talzerine found my father’s bedroom tossed through and looted, also having heard an ominous figure’s breathing from the opposite side of a wall. Aura found another mysterious handprint on Aunt Christa’s body. Though we have grown apart in our years, Theo, Iona, and I were united in a spontaneous surge of laughter. Christa, who made our mother’s life so miserable, was dead. I think it was when she died that father’s heart grew so stonelike, and he truly became the cruel taskmaster he was known to be before his death. Aunt Christa’s death felt like a weight off our shoulders. Menard quickly spiraled into insinuations, even accusing Lucas’ daughter of being a suspect, frightening the poor girl. For God’s sake, the girl was only about Lysa’s age! He also insisted on barricading the remaining survivors in a room to pass the night. It was a prudent course of action, but I felt that he was the most suspicious given his portents of ill omen and erratic behavior. Spark, Thierry, and I holed up in the game room, but not before making the observation that Daniel had gone missing. Though Menard wanted to find my business partner, even willing to search in the driving rain, common sense won out among everyone else. If they realized the nature of Daniel’s past business ventures, they would agree that he was worse than even my father. As we settled in for the night, I read to calm my nerves and pass the time. The last tale I remember, appropriately enough, was The Clever Greengrocer, featuring a boy that sells fake seeds to his community to make enough coin to travel the world. When he returns home, he finds his village destitute and is eventually stoned to death by the people whose trust he betrayed for personal gain. “As you sow, so shall you reap.” After a night of tormented sleep, I am writing and waiting for Lucas’ freshly brewed coffee. Writing and reflecting over what my life has been. I hear the sounds of a commotion from the back patio. Something about another body being found. Ageless One help us. -Written by Kush
Month 6, Week 4, Year 850Cornered by the pastWe fade into the cold nightOur sins on display
I rose early to write an accurate reflection of the past day, should I need to reflect upon these memories for posterity’s sake. Most of yesterday was a blur of activity, hazy in the tedium of decorum. Events reached a new state of clarity after I was brought before the dead form of my wife. It was pointed out to me by Spark of Life, a tabaxi sellsword and recipient of a bequeathment by my deceased father, that my wife had the faint impression of a handprint on her body, lightly obfuscated by clothing. Something derived from supernatural means, rather than the more mundane origin of bruising or tattooing. It was a pointed question by the tabaxi - “When was the last time you slept with your wife?” - that drove me to reminisce about the past by her bedside. Our marriage was cold, arranged as a political alliance by my father after Rhiannon passed away suddenly from illness. I made my way downstairs at my own pace, gathering some final possessions and entrusting the door key with Mme. Chouet. As I gathered Thierry from the bathroom, I realized that a few of the group that had gathered around my room had left. Mme. Starr had made an exit, as had my sister-in-law. My former business associate from years ago, M. Menard, had also stormed away. We made our way back to the sitting room, where the fateful will reading that started this mess occurred, sitting in silence (aside from Daniel’s snoring from the dining room). Starr soon returned, followed by Lucas, his daughter, Menard, and the elusive Mme. Anastasia. Menard was apparently destroying the contents of my father’s wine cellar, property that was rightfully mine through the bequeathment to Lucina. In his intoxicated monastic fervour, he stumbled upon the shabby form of Anastasia somewhere in the basement. As a child, in a time so distant that it seemed like a dream, my father told me stories of an old friend of his by that name. A figure with a regal bearing, despite her Rover origins. A folk hero and monster hunter. What a cruel mistress time is, reducing both her and my father to shells of their former selves. We were still missing Aunt Christa, my idiot brother, and his wife among our company. Mme. Talzerine and Starr made their way upstairs to find them. A few of the group downstairs, Menard chiefly among them, made the observation of the specific allocations of company ownership dictated in my father’s will. As they stood now, Daniel controlled 66% of the company, necessitating me to court Talzerine’s favor in order to block a 67% deciding majority for corporate actions. As I stewed on my future, the still-absent aforementioned ladies were noted and addressed by Menard and Aura of Passion, who also went upstairs to join the search. As we waited downstairs, my eyes were drawn to a copy of Fables de la Fontaine, specifically the copy I would read as a child. My hands wore these pages down, devouring stories and looking in awe at the illustrations. I passed the time reading a few to Thierry to calm him down and help the weight of his mother’s passing sink in. It was around this moment that my brother and his wife made a return downstairs. I entertained the idea of hiring Spark as a bodyguard and acted on my intuition of his financially motivated mindset; I was relieved when he readily accepted. Suddenly, the four that had gone upstairs to search - Starr, Talzerine, Menard, and Aura - returned bearing news that Aunt Christa was found dead, hanging by her neck around a light fixture. They had stumbled upon this scene on the third floor while investigating other matters. Menard claimed to have seen a silhouette descending to the first floor along the outside of the estate, details masked by rainfall. Both Starr and Talzerine found my father’s bedroom tossed through and looted, also having heard an ominous figure’s breathing from the opposite side of a wall. Aura found another mysterious handprint on Aunt Christa’s body. Though we have grown apart in our years, Theo, Iona, and I were united in a spontaneous surge of laughter. Christa, who made our mother’s life so miserable, was dead. I think it was when she died that father’s heart grew so stonelike, and he truly became the cruel taskmaster he was known to be before his death. Aunt Christa’s death felt like a weight off our shoulders. Menard quickly spiraled into insinuations, even accusing Lucas’ daughter of being a suspect, frightening the poor girl. For God’s sake, the girl was only about Lysa’s age! He also insisted on barricading the remaining survivors in a room to pass the night. It was a prudent course of action, but I felt that he was the most suspicious given his portents of ill omen and erratic behavior. Spark, Thierry, and I holed up in the game room, but not before making the observation that Daniel had gone missing. Though Menard wanted to find my business partner, even willing to search in the driving rain, common sense won out among everyone else. If they realized the nature of Daniel’s past business ventures, they would agree that he was worse than even my father. As we settled in for the night, I read to calm my nerves and pass the time. The last tale I remember, appropriately enough, was The Clever Greengrocer, featuring a boy that sells fake seeds to his community to make enough coin to travel the world. When he returns home, he finds his village destitute and is eventually stoned to death by the people whose trust he betrayed for personal gain. “As you sow, so shall you reap.” After a night of tormented sleep, I am writing and waiting for Lucas’ freshly brewed coffee. Writing and reflecting over what my life has been. I hear the sounds of a commotion from the back patio. Something about another body being found. Ageless One help us. -Written by Kush
Character(s) interacted with
- Lucina - my recently deceased wife.
- Theirry - my second eldest son. Am I treating him like my father did me?
- Iona - my sister. Never the same since mother died. Then again, none of us were.
- Theo - my brother. A fool and a lout.
- Mircea - my sister-in-law. I had not met her prior to the funeral.
- Aunt Christa - My father’s cousin. Recipient of a very karmic death.
- Mme. Jupiter Talzerine - a distant relative by marriage. A scandalous reputation follows her.
- Mme. Milena Chouet - a lawyer I am only familiar by reputation. An odd choice to administer my father’s will.
- M. Daniel Vidaru - my business partner. I tolerate him. Barely.
- M. Gaultier Menard - a business partner from times past. Appears radicalized by some cult.
- Aura of Passion - a tabaxi Rover that made a scene at the funeral. Willed my mother’s ring, possibly as a joke.
- Spark of Life - a tabaxi mercenary I recently hired. The new holder of the deed to my flat.
- Mme. Anastasia - a lauded figure from my father’s past. Reality is often disappointing.
- Mme. Starr - a half-elf woman.
- Lucas - my father’s loyal manservant.
- Lucas’ daughter - Lucas’ daughter. About the same age as my Lysa.
Report Date
02 Mar 2021
Primary Location
Featured Players
- Aura of Passion
- Gaultier Menard
- Jupiter Talzerine
- Spark of Life
- Ymyrelda Starr
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