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FROM THE DESK OF SIMEON TWAIN, SENESCHAL OF THE GODSPEED
THE LORD UNDYING'S GLORIOUS COHORT
ADDRESSING THE HOUSE OF THE NINTH, ITS REVEREND LADY PELLEAMENA HIGHT NOVENARIUS AND ITS REVEREND LORD PRIAM HIGHT NONIUSVIANUS:
Salutations to the House of the Ninth, and blessings upon its tombs, its peaceful dead, and its manifold mysteries:
Please confirm the following standard item requisition from His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, to be delivered upon second equinox:
- One thousand units vac-sealed porridge packets, extra bland
- One hundred units corpse paint
- One hundred units corpse paint remover
- One thousand kilos osseo - aged
- One copy Co-ed Cohorts Volume I
YOUR OB'D SERVANT
SIMEON TWAIN
QUARTERMASTER
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FROM THE DESK OF SIMEON TWAIN, SENESCHAL OF THE GODSPEED
THE LORD UNDYING'S GLORIOUS COHORT
ADDRESSING THE HOUSE OF THE NINTH, ITS REVEREND LADY PELLEAMENA HIGHT NOVENARIUS AND ITS REVEREND LORD PRIAM HIGHT NONIUSVIANUS:
Salutations to the House of the Ninth, and blessings upon its tombs, its peaceful dead, and its manifold mysteries:
I trust the last supply drop went as planned - imagine my surprise to see another requisition ahead of schedule! Please confirm the following standard item requisition from His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, to be delivered upon third equinox:
- One thousand units vac-sealed porridge packets, extra bland
- Nine sanguine porcelain batteries
- One thousand kilos marrow-fed fertilizer
- Five hundred units seed packets - snow leek
- One copy Co-ed Cohorts Volume II
- One copy Co-ed Cohorts Volume III
- One copy Second House Sluts: the House of the Crimson Panties
YOUR OB'D SERVANT
SIMEON TWAIN
QUARTERMASTER
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FROM THE DESK OF SIMEON TWAIN, SENESCHAL OF THE GODSPEED
THE LORD UNDYING'S GLORIOUS COHORT
ADDRESSING THE HOUSE OF THE NINTH, ITS REVEREND LADY PELLEAMENA HIGHT NOVENARIUS AND ITS REVEREND LORD PRIAM HIGHT NONIUSVIANUS:
Salutations to the House of the Ninth, and blessings upon its tombs, its peaceful dead, and its manifold mysteries:
I pray all is well within the Ninth House! We haven't heard from the Vestals so frequently in a myriad, and I pray that this is a matter merely of expansion of the Lady and Lord's holdings, and not a clerical error.
Please confirm the following standard item requisition from His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, to be delivered upon first equinox of next year:
- Three thousand units vac-sealed porridge packets, extra bland
- Nine thousand units black linens - extra thick
- Two thousand kilos rendered fat - multipurpose
- One copy Voyeur Warden: Let Me Watch
- One copy Seventh House of Sin: Blowing the Rose Unblown
- One copy Penitent Templars II
- One copy Animaphiliac Urges
- One copy Princess Handmaiden Sleepover: Hot Nights on Ida
- One copy One Flesh, One Happy Ending
- One copy Frontline Titties the of the Fifth (I do not believe this to be a real publication)
(Some of the "supplementary literature" will require additional sourcing - apologies to the Lord or Lady for any delays)
YOUR OB'D SERVANT
SIMEON TWAIN
QUARTERMASTER
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Harrowhark stood, bundled from malleolus to occipital, flushed and shivering but not from the cold. Grey snow fell limply all around them, blanketing the hardpack and reinforced stone of the drillshaft shuttle-pad in a thin, filmy coating of what resembled crematory ash. The dour shuttle pilot shifted nervously from foot to foot; they hadn't expected the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House to herself come to inspect the equinal supply drop, nor for the crepuscular shambling shadow of Crux, the House Seneschal, to have accompanied her. Crux looked like a mausoleum had stood and begun glowering and barking orders. Harrowhark just looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel.
Gloved and mittened hands shaking with ill-concealed fury, Harrowhark scanned the shipping manifest for the hundredth time, the veins at her sphenoid bulging balefully. Her lips mouthed the titles of the "literature" that had been requisitioned under the forged signatures of her Lady Mother and Lord Father. Something must have passed over her eyes that bespoke violence, because the shuttle pilot took another nervous step back.
"Everything in order, uh, Reverend Daughter?" they stammered.
Harrowhark ignored them. A shadow loomed in the doorway leading back down the drillshaft to Drearburh; a long, lanky, broad-shouldered shadow. A shadow with an absurd nest of carrot-colored hair. A shadow that was sniggering.
Harrowhark stiffly thrust the manifest back at the pilot and very slowly and deliberately turned her back on them, turning toward the offending recalcitrant. She found her voice at last; it was a boiling, bubbling, seething, furious thing, rising out of her like a volcano, like God's own kettle boiling over:
"GRIDDLE! COME HERE THIS INSTANT!"