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[1v1 05/54/872 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt
To: Amelie D'LaPoir

Dearest Amelie:

I have now had several days to acquaint myself with the village of Dielon. While it is neither cosmopolitan nor wealthy, nor even particularly scenic, I do not find it too entirely dismal a place. Do not mistake my reconciliation to my environs as praise, Dielon is, beyond a doubt, a dismal place. However, I believe it to be slightly less dismal than I feared it would be.

The staff at my offices consists of five men: two scribes, one menial, one cypher, and a personal assistant to the Seneschal named Yves. Yves has been invaluable, he brought me about the town and introduced me to the local potentates, such as they are. As one might expect in a town dominated by farmers whose chief crop is grain, the owner of the largest of the two local mills seems to be the wealthiest man in town. Having the ability to spell not only his own name, but also those of his wife and two daughters, he is also probably one of the best educated peasants in Dielon. Beyond this man the local dignitaries seem to consist of two bakers, a butcher, the owners of three local general stores, two merchants who negotiate the sale of grain and produce to wholesalers in Traviers, and the half dozen most enterprising local farmers. Between them they have about as much genetic diversity as two leaves from the same tree, and as much enterprise as a rather clever snail.

I have also met the three gendarmes who are to help me keep order: Robert, Jacque and a man named Dennis, like myself. The first one I met was Jacque, he was napping in the station, a poorly maintained las-gun resting on his desk, when I arrived. When we first met I was not impressed with either his alacrity or intelligence. I have learned little of the man since to make me feel that my first judgment was anything other than accurate. In fact, I strongly fear that I rather overestimated his abilities in the excitement of our initial meeting. Dennis is, much to my disappointment, little better. In fact he may be somewhat worse. I fear that the two men were qualified to serve as gendarmes mainly by their complete lack of any ability to serve in any other position. Had we not a rather sturdy breed of local oxen capable of pulling the plows that my farmers use to furrow their fields I would gladly place each one under a yoke and have him driving the farmers' equipment across the common weal, and I would consider them to have achieved beyond their natural ability in obtaining the position. As it is each man would be less efficient than an oxe, each seems of similar in intelligence, and I believe that each consumes rather more food to boot. Fortunately, Robert seems, if not brilliant, at least sentient, and at moments almost competent to execute his duties. I believe I shall need to rely rather heavily on his aid in the event of any public disorder.

Fortunately, large scale disorder seems rather unlikely, as the villagers seem little more ambitious than the oxen they yoke to their plows. The men of this village wearily go about their task in much the same manner that an aged cow ambles from one patch of grass to the next, and each completes his tasks with the same weary lethargy of that cow chewing it's own cud. However, while neither eager nor motivated, each man seems inured to his role, and while they spend a great deal of time complaining, each invariably, if unenthusiastically, completes his allotted tasks before trudging home at the end of the day. I am probably fortunate to preside over such an un-enterprising lott, given the amount of property I have been forced to confiscate in order to pay our portion of the Imperia Tithe. In this respect they are much like the peasants at home in Ygres. I imagine that in such habits peasants are largely alike across the whole of the Imperium of Man. If as a species we lack the grace of the Eldar or the ferocity of the Ork, perhaps it is our tireless ability to amble forward that grants us our strength.

I digress. I had wished to tell you that I was able to visit the local Imperial Chapel. The chapel is known as St. Oghma, and dedicated to that same venerable saint, the embodiment of the Emperor's wisdom and insight. It is a small place, and though it cannot be more than two hundred years old, it is built in a style similar to the oldest chapels on Gascon. The interior consists of a single large apse enclosed by simple walls made of granite. At the end lies a large statue of the Emperor. Behind the statue is a stained glass window depicting an image of St. Oghma kneeling before the Emperor. The only oddity in the construction is the depiction of St. Oghma. While I am accustomed to seeing him depicted as a stooped man with an elderly air, his face shrouded in a gray cloak this Oghma looked different. The gray cloak remained, but was thrown back revealing a face. The head was a young man with light colored hair and rather thin, almost aquiline features. While it seemed odd, it was not at all unpleasant, in fact I found the face to be rather comforting.

I also met the priest, a man named Gilles. He did not seem very old, certainly older than I, but by no means ancient. However, when we met Gilles asked of my mother, and seems to have been the priest in this chapel when she and my father dwelled in Dielon some twenty-five years ago, or at least he gave the impression he had been their chaplain, I do not recall him specifically saying as much. He gave me his condolences on my father's death, and told me where I can find my father's grave in the grave yard beyond the chapel. He also asked about my mother, and seemed genuinely concerned for her health and well-being. As she has not responded to any of my messages since I arrived I was not able to offer many specifics. I hope you can write me to inform me of her well being. Considering all I learned, I do not believe that the chapel at Dielon would be at all insufficient to hold our marriage if necessary. I still hope to return to Ygres for our wedding, but we could certainly do worse than St. Oghma's should we find it necessary to marry here on Rennes.

My work has been less pleasant than my trip to St. Oghma's. I have found that my predecessor had not paid, or even fully gathered, the Imperial Tithes. I also found that his methods of record-keeping were woefully haphazard. What is worst, the fool seems to have erred in encrypting several of the more recent entries, and I have been unable to even access some of his files. I have spent the last several days furiously attempting to gather together the remainder of the Tithe in order to minimize the delay in providing our due to the Administratum Munitorium. The local farmers have been rather reluctant to part with the required portion of their grain, and many have claimed to have already processed their crops, assuming that the lack of any effort to collect signaled an intent to forego the collection. On one occasion Robert was forced to unholster his side-arm before the farmer admitted that he had sufficient proceeds to pay his share. Fortunately, the generally bovine character of the local peasants seems to make any organized disobedience well beyond their capabilities.

I fear that all this stress is rather adversely affecting my disposition. I have had trouble sleeping. Several times I have awoken in the night. I felt agitated by a dream, a nightmare in fact, but one I could not quite remember. On these nights I have been unable to return to sleep, and I have found myself poring through my predecessor's records attempting to improve my knowledge of the village. While it leaves me tired, in a manner this has been a fortuitous development, as it has allowed me more quickly familiarize myself with Dielon. Still, I eagerly anticipate the completion of the Tithe, the reduction of my stress, and hopefully the return of a sound and untroubled sleep.

Finally, could you please ask my mother to respond to some of my missives? I would also appreciate your own input as to her condition. I cannot pretend that I am not more than a little worried at her recent behavior. I also long to hear of you, and of life in Ygres over the past week since I have left. Please write to me as soon as possible.

Your beloved fiancé: Dennis

[1v1 05/060/827 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt, Seneschal - Dielon
To: Marquise Ferdinand Valiens D'Harcourt

Your Leige:

Allow this to serve as my first monthly report regarding the condition of your holdings on Rennes. I believe I have begun to get a grip on the situation here in Dielon. However, I fear that there will be little profit to forward to the coffers of House Valiens. As I believe I informed you, my predecessor had neither collected nor delivered our portion of the Imperial Tithe. I was able to gather and submit the required tribute, and to even pay the salaries of my few functionaries and the three gendarmes employed by the town. However, there remains nothing left to submit to your liege. In fact, I myself had to forego any salary in order to balance the villages receipts. I can only express my most sincere apologies for the state of this situation.

However, after having some time to inspect my surroundings and review the assets available at this village I believe I have good news to leaven the bad. The soil around Dielon is quite fertile, and much is already under the plow. I am certain that we can gain greater yields from Your Majesty's fields. In fact, I think it would hardly be possible to gain a smaller yield. The yields have been so low as compared to the amount of acreage under the plow that I strongly suspect that the local peasants have been appropriating portions of the Lord's Crops in addition to that which they produce on their own plots. Were I not faced with the numbers, I would never have thought that the apparently inert locals would have nearly the entrepreneurial spirit necessary to attempt such a plan. Given my previous impressions, I am almost thankful to see some spark of ambition from the locals. I am confident I can increase our yields, and possibly redirect some of the local peasantry's ambitions towards more positive ends. There are several tracts lying to the east of town that have not yet been brought to the plow. I believe that if I offer the peasants four plots of their own, for every plot to be farmed for You Mahesty I could increase the holdings for all alike.

I have also uncovered a second un-tapped source of income. While, Robert assures me that my predecessor had been dutifully collecting the excise toll charged to the merchants who carry the farmer's goods to and from town, none of those proceeds appear on the village's ledgers. I cannot help from speculating about the explanation for this discrepancy. But as my predecessor no longer lives, and cannot now speak in his own defense I will refrain from disclosing the fruits of these speculations.

This does, however, raise an interesting issue I would seek to discuss with Your Majesty. As I explained previously, I have been unable to decipher several of the more recent logs kept by my predecessor. I had assumed that he had erred in encrypting the entries as a result of his general incompetence. However, in light of my recent discoveries regarding the finances of the village I feel it increasingly vital that I be able to read these records. I would ask Your Lord if you have access to any other encryption keys, either current or antiquated, that may be able to allow me access to these documents.

Finally, I have scheduled an appointment to meet with Gilles Delatouix, the Deacon at St. Oghma, the Imperial Chapel of Dielon. I had mentioned to him my need to address the local peasantry regarding the use of their lord's fields. Mr. Delatouix gave me rather a long look. He then asked that I meet him at the chapel to discuss the matter. While I feel that the local peasantry is certainly no danger to the maintenance of order, it would certainly be less burdensome to have the aid of the Deacon in attempting to keep on eye on Your Leige's property. I am hopeful that he can add his influence to my efforts to ensure that your property is properly maintained.

I believe that Dielon can soon become a profitable and prosperous hamlet. I hope my next report will be accompanied by a substantial profit which I can forward to Your Majesty and to the House Valiens.

I remain, as ever, your loyal servant:

Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt, Seneschal - Dielon

[1v1 05/62/872 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt
To: Amelie D'LaPoir
Dearest Amelie:

I cannot tell you what I would give for a full night's peaceful sleep. I had hoped that once I had gathered the Imperial Tithe I would be able to rest soundly through the night. I was wrong. I still find myself awakened most nights by some foul dream. I still cannot remember the bulk of these nightmares, or perhaps this nightmare. However, I recall the impression of some chthonic chanting who's echo seems to linger a few moments even after I awake. I do not recall anything else, and do not know what visions come in these dreams that so upset my disposition. I do know that the contents must be fearsome, for I am quite distressed when I awake, and I can rarely return to sleep again afterwards.

I have noticed, in my nocturnal vigils, how still and how quiet this hamlet is in the dead of night. It is not like home. Here, in the darkest watches of the night, there is a silence more absolute than I think I can really explain. We think we all know silence. What we know is the sensation of hearing no sounds that concern us. True silence is something else, I do not know that I had ever experienced true silence prior to my arrival at Dielon. But here, in this tiny town, in the hours of night just before dawn there is nothing, truly nothing, to hear. And gazing over Dielon I can see that only one building is illuminated: the Chapel. All else lies in absolute darkness. I have spoken with Gilles, he claims that it has been the tradition in this village since it was settled some 160 years ago to leave the chapel illuminated at all times, as a beacon of the Emperor's Wisdom, and a bastion for those who find themselves in distress in the evening. The door is always unlocked, and Gilles himself sleeps in the attached chancery, where he can be awoken if needed.

I have spent rather a great deal of time with Gilles over the past two days. I had learned that the peasants were keeping proceeds from the Marquis' lands. I had hoped Gilles would help me to stop this practice, which was, undoubtedly, the result of lax discipline. He however, confided in me that he had long known of the practice, and had even acquiesced in the peasants' plans. He explained that he had violated the Marquis' rights, but that he had done so for a noble cause. He told me that life in Dielon is hard, as I do not doubt, as this town is so far from the comforts and protections of civilization. There are wild animals that occasionally fall upon the farmers, and accidents that leave them mangled, crippled and lamed, but most of all, there is little by way of medical supplies, and there are none who are properly trained to provide medical care, and that many men die young, and die of trivial causes. Others are left permanently crippled by injruries that could be treated rather easily were medical assistance available. He went on to say that he had been, essentially, collecting his own tithe and using the money to create a fund to care for the town's widows and cripples. The tithe is raised by allowing the peasants to farm the Marquis' plots, and hunt in the Marquis' woods, and collecting a portion of the proceeds.

Begging my discretion, Gilles asked that I gather Robert and accompany them on a tour of the town. We conducted this tour the following afternoon. The two showed me the homes of the widows, a great many indeed for so small a town, and brought me to the homes of a few cripples, men so badly disfigured that they dared not show themselves, and only reluctantly displayed limbs that were mangled and malformed, some since birth, others since some terrible accident or another. My guides went so far as to claim that this town could not survive without this extra produce.

I explained to each the implications of this ruse. I asked what my predecessor had done. They claimed he had turned a blind eye so long as a portion was forwarded for his own use. I decreed that this must end. It is not only illegal, but unnecessary. It is assumed that the Administratii should provide for the basic health and welfare of the hard-working subjects of the Emperor. We could more easily collect the entire harvest from the Marquis' lands, and allocate a portion to the maintenance of those misfortunates who have been left behind in the wake if disease or injury, and it would no longer be necessary to bribe the peasants with additional harvests to gain a small tithe, nor to bribe the magistrate, myself, who will, in any case accept no such graft.

I thought the plan elegant and the solution simple. Neither Robert nor Gilles seemed entirely impressed. I forget, sometimes, that these men are from a small town, a place where little has changed since our beloved Voltergiers hurled out the Eldar and allowed men to settle some 160 years gone by. It seems odd that so much tradition, and superstition can emerge so quickly, but such is the way of men when left, alone, on the edge of the Imperium, with no counsel to keep but their own. Gilles and Robert feared we could not raise enough revenue, they feared the peasants would become restive if deprived their portion of this scheme, they feared reprisal if their former actions came to light. Most of all, I believe, they simply feared because fearing the future is what peasants do. Though amongst the leaders of this community of peasants, they are peasants themselves at heart, which I some times forget.

The two actually asked if they could have some time to discuss the proposition! I explained to them that they may, most certainly, have nothing of the sort. The Marquis is the sole legal authority over this village, the representative of the Emperor himself, and I am the Marquis' designated representative in Dielon. I promised them that I would often consult with the tiwns-people when practical, but that ultimately, my word was law, and matters such as this cannot be subject to negotiation. They acquiesced. Only then did I tell them of my plan to increase the acreage tilled, and create a rising tide that can lift all of our boats. I was greeted with more objections, and worries. I am certain that ten years from now these same men will consider any alteration the size or distribution of the my new plots to be the rankest heresy.

I have also been attending mass regularly since my arrival. I very much enjoy the Chapel of St. Oghma, I think it rather an elegant building. It is neither very large nor very expensive, and it is certainly no-where near the size of our chapel back home. But every day as I sit, I notice more details about the interior. There is a pattern carved into the pillar near where I sit designed to give the stone the contour of tree, bark, and the fixtures have been carved to resemble the bases of branches where the pillar meets the ceiling. Given some inspection I noticed that the other pillars are carved alike, and the pews similarly, as though to resemble logs fallen to the ground. The marble of the floor is a mottled color, almost as of sunlight filtering through a canopy of leaves. It is a subtle effect, which I did not notice when I first began to attend. Given the wooded nature of the scene where St. Oghma bows before the Emperor, however, it seems very much appropriate. In a million such ways, I believe, this chapel makes the fullest possible use of the relatively meager resources available to it's creators. I grow increasingly certain that it would be a beutiful place for our weddings. I know mother will reconsider her opposition to returning to Rennes if we explain to her how important her presence would be to us. Would you consent to a wedding here at the edge of civilization? We would begin our life together as I begin my carreer, and our prospects, however we prosper, will have begun here, in this tiny little place where, after all, I was born.

Please give my love to your sister and mother, tell them that, though a bit tired, I am doing well. I expect that this little village can prosper, and hope to return to you an established man awaiting a more esteemed commission within the demesne of the great house of Valiens.

Your beloved fiancé:

Dennis

[1v1 05/70/872 M41]

From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt

To: Amelie D'LaPoir

Dearest Amelie:

I fear that The dreams have been getting worse. I can now say for certain that I am beginning to remember portions of the dreams. The memory is hazy, and not at all distinct, but certain impressions definitely recurr every evening. I can remember a darkened room lit only by a great bonfire of some sort. There are a number of people with me in the room. I do not know, or cannot remember, how many; the image I retain on waking is indistinct, but there are certainly others besides myself present. The fire casts an uncertain light, and shadows flicker and move throughout the image, making it even more difficult to picture my surroundings. While I cannot recall any walls to this chamber, at least not while awake, I remember the distinct impression that the whole structure is roughly hewn from the living rock.

What I know I remember is the chanting. All those in the room are chanting in a strange guttural language that I cannot understand. And yet, though the words are alien, I too am chanting. Afront this room, or cavern, is a dais raised from the level of the floor. As the chanting escalates, growing faster and faster, and louder as well with every repetition, a single man climbs the dais and faces us. The man wears a dark robe with a hood pulled over his head. As the chanting reaches a crescendo the man throws the hood back to reveal his face which, of course, I never see, for at that moment I awaken. I find myself lying in my bed with the distinct impression that I can still hear the echoes of the chanting somewhere far enough away as to be only barely audible. When I awake I can rarely return to sleep, I often look out the window, half expecting to see the source of the chanting, though I already well know that it exists only in my imagination. Every time I see the same thing, only the chapel of St. Oghma, the only structure that remains lit in Deilon even in the dead if evening, shining like a beacon, as well it's architects intended.

Most oddly, I feel as though these dreams are somehow familiar. I cannot remember having such dreams before coming here, but I cannot free myself from the sensation that the dreams and their content are all something I know from the distant past. Could you do me the favor of speaking to my mother and asking her if maybe, at some point during my childhood, I suffered from such nightmares, and if so, what triggered the beginning and, more importantly, the end of any such spells? Deilon is quite beautiful at night, an outline lit by the torch-light blazing from St. Oghma's, but I rather feel I would prefer a clear view of the inside of my eyelids, and good night's sleep. If there was some circumstance that cured me of nightmares in my childhood, I would very like to recreate the experience now, and earn myself some rest.

I am anticipating your response more eagerly with every interrupted slumber.

Your beloved fiancé:


Dennis

[1v1 05/075/827 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt, Seneschal - Dielon
To: Marquise Ferdinand Valiens D'Harcourt

Your Leige:

I thank you for your recent help, of the older encryption keys you have sent I found one, a military key from the Great Crusade againstnthe Eldar, that can decrypt my predecessor's files. I fear have an additional request, albeit one that I hope will improve our mutual prosperity. I have convinced the local peasantry to stop poaching on your lords lands, and to stop misappropriating your lords crops, and I have dine so without the need to execute any, and to order the beatings of only a few. however, as many have become dependent on the incomes I have conceived of a new plan to increase their prosperity, but I will need your help. I feel that the prosperity of the town can be greatly increased by clearing lands previously farrow on the outskirts of the village. I believe I could do this with the resources available, but the process would be much more rapid with you majesty's aid. If done more rapidly it would relieve temptation by the peasants to continue to poach our resources, and it would more quickly increase the profits being charged by the local traders, and the tolls we can charge them in transporting the goods to market. I know your majesty's retainer the Lord Freneau outside of St. Oghma maintains a large engineering corps with heavy equipment that would be of great use in clearing this land. If you could ask Sir Freneau to lend us the aid of some of his equipment amd personel I believe that the acreage could be put much more rapidly into production.

As regards the encryption codes you sent me, I have only just begun to attempt to read through my predecessors differently encrypted logs. The first date to several years ago, and they seem to demonstrate a growing paranoia on his part. Apparently, he quite intentionally chose a different encryption pattern when he began writing these notes, he hoped to hide them from certain enemies, real or imagined. He began to suspect the local magnates of plotting his downfall in hopes of gaining the appointment of a new Seneschal, he mentions some non-sense about their desire to obtain some local family's crony relative in order to be able to better manipulate their lord in some manner or another. He indicated in his first account that he planned on creating a log of the local magnates' machinations to use when he felt it appropriate to confront his foes, and to keep as a means to prove their ill-intent. I can think of no reason that a man would assume that his allegations are more credible simply because he chose to wright them down, but it is a fool who seeks to uncoil the logic of a paranoid delusion. I hope to be able to find out, if I continue to inspect these records, some clue that will help to explain what the former Seneschal did with some of the incomes that have apparently disappeared throughout his reign.

I am greatly anticipating your response, and eager of the work of any aid you can offer in the clearance of new lands to improve our mutual prosperity.

Your loyal Servant,


Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt, Seneschal - Dielon

Nice story so far - I like how it's progressing!

Looking forward to reading the next instalment.

Cheers

Sorry about the hiatus (assuming anybody is reading), but life got in the way, as did laziness. Now, the fall continues ... or, at least the prologue.


[1v1 05/074/827 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt, Seneschal - Dielon
To: Marquise Ferdinand Valiens D'Harcourt

Your Liege:

The settlement of the wastes outside of Dielon has begun. The local preacher, Gilles, has repeatedly opined as the unsuitable nature of these fields. I have noticed nothing of the sort. Rather, from what little I have been able to learn, the ground under the waving grass outside our settlement is amongst the most fertile in the area. None the less, both Gilles and the head of my gendarmes have repeatedly insisted that we abandon the project. The superstition and intractability of the peasantry is, at it's worst, virtually unbearable. I have organized the lots and gifted them to a number of the local families in return for the standard tithe owed the lord. Despite the rumbles of our local preacher, all have already been claimed. The families are struggling to sow the fields with time enough to raise a harvest in 200 days time, when the frosts return.

I have, however, been able to shift the apparently intractable. I have organized the produce of the Lord's Lands. I have estimated that they will, in about a months time, produce a tidy yield. I will be able to add it to Your Majesty's tithe, though I plan to use a small portion to care for the sick, the crippled, and the widows left by the untimely death of their husbands.

I do write with one request. The local preacher, Gilles, seems increasingly concerned about the changes of policy accompanying my rise to power. I fear that his generally cantankerous outlook could, if left to fester, blossom into genuine hostility. I do not wish to see the local church become hostile. I fear the implications not only for my own soul, but also for the quiet enjoyment and prosperity of Your Liege's holdings. I ask permission to use a second portion of the harvest from the Noble Demesne to donate to the church for repairs to what is a rather old and disheveled structure.

Finally, I would thank you for the decryption key you have sent to me for use deciphering my predecessor's records. I fear that little of what was lost during his term of office can be regained, but, if the tithes have disappeared, at least some wisdom may be salvaged by inspecting his journals.

I remain, as ever, your loyal servant:

Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt, Seneschal - Dielon

[1v1 05/81/872 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt
To: Amelie D'LaPoir

Dearest Amelie:

I have little good news to share. This post has put me in what seemed a simple village, and yet, I find myself surprised at every turn. As I had planned I auctioned off land in the fields surrounding Dielon. I believed them to be, and still believe them to be, wastes only because uncultivated, though the soil be fertile, and the land be good. Many peasants willingly settled the land, and for two weeks all seemed good. As we are already at the height of Spring here on this portion of Rennes they immediately sought to begin to sow there crops so as to be able to gain at least some harvest this fall.

This past weekend I was awoken by Robert. He informed me that a family of homesteaders had been slain in the night by forces unknown. Traveling with him to a farm far to the south east of the town I found the family. They had set up a small encampment using canvas tents, though they had already begun clearing a foundation for their home. Within the tent the whole family, a man, his wife, her brother and a cousin, lay dead. I will not describe the sight. But no predator I know of in this region could have caused such a horrible slaughter. The mens' two auto-guns lay unfired in the corner. Shocked as I was by the horror, as I was more shocked the following morning when a second family was found dead in the same manner. The homesteaders began to prepare to flee back to the village. Some did. The rest remained only because me and my gendarmes have patrolled the roads nightly the past four nights. I have patrolled with Robert, and seen nothing, as yet. I doubt there is any creature in these wilds that could survive a salvo from the bolt-pistol I was requisitioned upon my appointment.

Myself and Robert are to meet tomorrow with several locals to recruit additional gendarmes to begin patrolling the fields. I hope to be able to find the creature that has begun stalking our village, for all will sleep better once it has been shot, stuffed and hung in the antechamber outside my office.

I myself have slept better. I have spent my evenings walking the fields with my pistol, and Robert and his auto-gun. I have been able to sleep only during the days, and have been troubled not at all by dreams.

Finally, I have begun to read the journals of my predecessor. My Liege sent me a series of keys, and I found that a military key was able to decipher his entries. To my shock, it was not only his most recent entries that were differently encoded. There were entries from throughout his term of office encrypted with the key. I know not whether he always felt some to be more secure than others, and encrypted them separately, or whether he later re-encrypted some he felt important. I am certain that I can say he was quite mad, for many were specially encrypted for no reason other than rank paranoia. Those I have read thus far of the mildest and least delicate nature, and I cannot imagine who would wish to hide such entries. They date to the time of his appointment, and seem to concern his dreams and ambitions for the village.

Though innocuous, I find these oddly troubling. The early entries of the man who spent his latter years stealing the Imperial Tithe and accepting bribes from the peasantry are filled with plans to improve the village, and to increase the efficiency of the collection of the dues, and maximize the output of Our Lord's Demesne. In fact, he had once harbored the same plan as me, to settle the wastes outside of the town and profit by enlarging the total income, while still paying to the Lord his rightful due. I think we all know how complacency and disappointment lead men to become jaded and corrupt. But still, I think I would have preferred learn he had been a thief from his beginnings, or at least a grasping and petty man, whose eventual treachery would seem obvious in retrospect. I know I am being naive, no such man would have been likely to achieve this appointment in the first place. I know none of us believe ourselves wicked, and he probably thought himself a good man, even as he stole, and felt each theft a necessity, or perhaps a temporary expedient. And yet, I believe I was more comfortable thinking him bad from the start, rather than recognizing him as a normal man ... who failed to do his duty.

I know his fate need not be my own. I am free to choose my own path, and have the strength to choose rightly. Nice as it is to pretend that the bad wear dark robes and carry maleficent sigils, I have always known that doing what is right requires effort, perseverance, and constant vigilance. So we are taught from childhood, and so must I do.

I believe that, even with the most recent setbacks, this harvest will bring a good harvest, and substantial profits. I hope that this fall, some 200 days from now, on this portion of Rennes, will bring me the resources to bring you here, to the place of my birth, for our wedding.

Your beloved fiancé,

Dennis

This is very well made, great read and very intresting story. Will await more

[1v1 05/85/872 M41]
From: Dennis Courlieux D'Harcourt
To: Amelie D'LaPoir

I write this to you for I know not whom else to address, and yet cannot keep this ill omen to myself. Reading my predecessor's journals I have learned that he actually did attempt to settle the wastes outside of Dielon. His efforts were stymied when, over the course of three weeks, eight families were slaughtered by unknown creatures. With the peasants refusing to occupy so hazardous a tract he abandoned hosmefforts. These attacks left the same bloody carnage as those which occurred these past days. They occurred at the beginning of his term, some thirty years ago. However, Gilles was already the Minister of St. Oghma. Why has he tried to convince me the land infertile if what he truly feared was this attack? I have begun to wonder how trustworthy the father. I think I will not confront him, not yet. Perhaps he thought I would not believe him. Or that I would scoff at the idea of being driven off by some wild creature. Perhaps I will merely watch, and withhold judgment for the moment. But, I believe this to be an ill omen.