Saturday, March 10, 2007

Letter to Stollen, March 10th

TO: Herr Rastus-Uwe Georg von Gebogenius an der Pickelhaube, Minister of Trade
Grand Duchy of Stollen

March 10th, 1768

Herr Trade Minister,

Baroness von Krimm has refered to me your letter of the 3rd, so that we may begin establishment of proper trade facilities between our two countries. This letter should accompany an initial good faith shipment of our dairy products, including a sampling of curds and whey as requested. You will find a sampling from the excellent Swiss brown, however there is also a sampling from our own brown cows, of the Schokolade Engel breed, a unique example of our agricultural progress. We are amply able to supply the Grand Duke with produce of either breed, or both.

(editor's note: Schokolade Engel translates to 'chocolate angels')

Accompanying the shipment should be a small wagonload of Dragoons to seek proper mounts. If additional dairy products are required in trade for mounts, you may make negotiations with Major Rudel, who will again be accompany the new shipment.

I myself hope to visit your Duchy quite soon, once I have put a few matters in order here. On a more personal note, I might add that the Baroness was someone miffed at being referenced simply as Ms., and recommend that future correspondence be careful to emphasize her noble title, as she comes of a proud lineage and is a close relation of Her Grace Sieglinde.

Best regards,

Count Sepp von Sichel
Trade Minister


Bluebear Jeff said...

Sadly, it appears that your missive to the Grand Duchy of Stollen has gone astray.

The exact nature of the delay is somewhat clouded . . . but it seems that a tavern and a red-headed wench seem to have been involved. Or possibly it was the man with one eye?

With luck, perhaps in another week or so your missive may arrive in Stollen. Or perhaps not.

(note: the Grand Duke is away on business for a week)

-- Jeff

Snickering Corpses said...

According to the best available information at this time, the messenger has spent the past couple of days in a gypsy camp, enthralled by the dancing bear. It is believed that he will either snap out of it in a few days, or be mistaken for a dead dear and eaten by the bear, in which case his task can be given to a more reliable messenger with a most elegant reminder of duty attached.