Stories from RhyDin & The Rings

Press Release
From the offices of Marshwallow & Bowles,
New Haven
RhyDin

Citizens of our fine city, it is my honor and privilege to announce the opening of nominations for Governor of RhyDin. The nominations will be open for one week from today, through 8 September. All are welcome to announce their candidacies via press conference, by public posting at the Town Hall, or through private communication to the offices of Marshwallow & Bowles.

Following the closure of nominations, there will be a period of time for campaigning prior to the general election, which will be held from 27 September through 29 September. In the event that there are more than five candidates, a primary election will be held the previous weekend, with the top three results to be placed in the general election.

Please note that only self-nominations will be accepted. Anyone found attempting to unduly influence the election in any way will be dealt with by my partner, Ms. Bowles. Trust me, you do not want to get on her bad side.

If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to contact me at our office.

Thank you.

At your service,
The Honorable D.R. Marshwallow, Esq.
Marshwallow & Bowles




((OOC: Anyone with a character they wish to run for Governor, feel free to post a reply in this thread or PM to this SN. Nominations will be open through 11:59 Eastern on 9/8.))

A short spot on RhyDin TV, Radio stations, and the Internet:



Meaning, of course, Pharlen's in for another go at the governorship thing!

September 5, 2019
Twilight Isle

Normally, the goblins of Twilight Isle would have held a meeting as important as this one in their town hall building, tucked away deep in the pocket dimension’s forests. Unfortunately, the recent earthquake on the Isle had rendered that space unsafe for occupancy, so the realm’s helpers were forced to gather closer to the portal and dueling zone. They sat down in a neat circle, while scavenged Badsider crates from the nearby bar served as a makeshift dais for anyone who wished to speak to the gathering. The evening’s conversation centered, as one might expect, around relief efforts: Colki’s house still needed roof repairs, the steeple at the church needed reforged and placed on top of the building again, and the satellite dish was still getting spotty reception despite the permanently nice weather on the Isle. It was also an opportunity to give thanks to those that had helped with the reconstruction so far. Max and Claire and Royal, the Magic dueling sports’ coordinators; the various Keepers of the Isle’s Towers; and the duelists who had chipped in by dueling or otherwise volunteered to help. Eventually, the discussion seemed to be winding down.

And that is when Guilkoit stepped up to the podium. A rather fashionable fellow in a brown tweed jacket and trousers, monocle, and pipe, he made a show of polishing his eyepiece with a handkerchief rather deliberately in order to settle the crowd’s surprised rumblings. When they died down to a murmur, he began.

“My fellow goblins, we are all in agreement that many of the Isle’s fine visitors and supporters have lent us much succor in recent days. No one denies this, and do not let what I am about to say diminish their efforts. However, I cannot help but notice a name has been left off this list. A man who has always been kind to the goblins. A man who has never said a cross word to us. A man who has always tipped us well when we served him food and drinks here. Who has always donated generously to the Goblin Solstice Party, though we have yet to convince him to dress as Krampus.” Guilkoit paused, to let the audience guffaw at his joke. “Who is this man, you might ask?”

“Who?” a smart-aleck called out from deep within the gathering. Guilkoit didn’t miss a beat.

“I’m glad you asked! None other than our current Archmage, Bailey Raptis!” A cheer of approval rose from the throats of the goblins, and Guilkoit basked in it as if it was directed to him. “Those behaviors alone would be reason enough for goblinkind to praise him, but Bailey has gone above and beyond the call of duty. He has sent his statues, led by Proxinho, down from the Celestial Tower to lend their strength to our rebuilding process. And even though he works multiple jobs -- and frequently returns to the Isle at night worn out to the bone -- he has often lent a hand himself where needed. And yet! And yet, I have heard not one mention of his name upon the lips of any of us.” Guilkoit stopped, to shake a finger at each of the goblins. “Shame on us! Shame. We owe this man a great debt, and we have repaid it with silence. Nothing. Well, no longer! I have an idea for what we can do for our Archmage. Would you like to hear it?”

A chorus of “yes’s” sang out, almost loud enough to be heard on Ragnarok Island. Guilkoit smiled beatifically upon the throng, and continued. “Someday, Bailey will no longer be Archmage.” A chorus of groans greeted Guilkoit, forcing him to lower his hands to calm them down. “No one can hold the Tower forever -- the histories have shown that. And he may never rise to those lofty heights again. But! We know he is a good man, a kind man, a generous man. Such a man’s efforts should spread beyond this Isle, into the realm of RhyDin itself.” Guilkoit watched out of the corner of his eye as a couple of his companions shuffled to opposite sides of the circle, clipboards in hand, and nodded. “Let us nominate Bailey Raptis to be the next Governor of RhyDin, and spread his generosity throughout the land. Are you with me?”

“Yes!”

“I said, ARE YOU WITH ME?”

“YES!”

“Then sign these petitions to have Bailey included on the ballot, so that they all may learn the truth the goblins know: Bailey is the best!” Guilkoit lifted a hand into the air, eliciting another cheer from the gathered goblins, and then waved them to either side, where his friends with clipboards stood patiently waiting to take signatures. The circle split rather haphazardly, but eventually formed a pair of somewhat neat lines to take down the names of those goblins who supported the Archmage’s candidacy. By the end of the night, all who had gathered had signed the rolls.

***

September 6, 2019
Offices of Marshwallow & Bowles
New Haven

A rather bedraggled duo of goblins lugged several piles of paper over to the Offices of Marshwallow & Bowles in the morning hours. Rather unceremoniously, they dropped the stack of signatures on the receptionist’s desk, with a surprisingly chipper, “Bailey’s running for Governor!”, before dragging themselves back out the door and onto the streets of RhyDin.

Throughout the day, a series of posters with Bailey’s face went up across the city, on any telephone pole, corkboard, and, well, pretty much any empty wall the goblins could find. They seemed to be going for quantity over quality in how and where they were hung -- many were pasted up at crooked angles, and at least one or two were entirely upside down.



((Thanks to Eden’s player for creating the poster for this!))

September 8th

Tippletoe was digging into her waffles and sunny-side up eggs with bacon before her first rehearsal at the Shanachie Theatre . An upside down poster of Bailey hung on the bulletin board while the local radio played an ad. A half-orc to her left sighed and muttered something to his human companion.

“Just anot’er way fer someone to put a feat’er in der cap.”

Gisella, the long-legged blonde human nodded, sipping on her coffee. “It’s really just a figure-head position. The Governor just does as they please and calls it ‘city business’.”

Feathered hats?! This Governor thing sounded awesome! But then, she had a full slot with street performances and training at the Shanachie.

Tippletoe paid her gold to the gnomish sisters and then skipped off towards practice. On the way she saw a delightful bouquet of flowers and decided to get some, just because. She was looking at some pretty orchids when a trio of women passed by another poster of Bailey. “Ugh, these are so tasteless. For someone so fashionable you’d expect he’d put more effort into wearing the fancy-pants of a Governor.”

The two other women laughed. “Fancy-pants, that’s a good one Shanelle. But knowing Bailey he’s just as likely to wear a dress.”

Fancy pants? DRESSES?! Tippletoe looked down at her fading yellow tunic and her old blue scarf. A new wardrobe would certainly be an asset. An idea began to take place.

After the first introductory theatre rehearsal Tippletoe quickly stopped off at Marshwallow and Bowles’ office to make her self-nomination.

“TIPPLETOE TIMBERS FOR GOVERNOR! WILL LOOK BEST IN FANCY PANTS, DRESSES AND FEATHERED-HATS!”

Press Release
From the Offices of Marshwallow & Bowles,
New Haven
RhyDin

One week ago, on behalf of the City of RhyDin, I announced that anyone interested in running for the office of Governor may do so, publicly or in private communication to our firm. It is my pleasure to inform the people that we have a list of candidates.

- King Frank
- Pharlen von Tombs
- Bailey Raptis
- Tippletoe Timbers

With a ballot of four candidates, there will be no need for a primary election. As such, the candidates has three weeks to campaign. Voting booths across the city will open on Friday 27 September, and will close at 11:59 p.m. Sunday 29 September.

Have at it, ladies and gentlemen, and may the best candidate win!

At your service,
The Honorable D.R. Marshwallow, Esq.
Marshwallow & Bowles