View source for Bartimus Chamberlain Roleplays: The Cotys Neep

'''Roleplay from Bartimus Chamberlain'''

Posters began to appear around the marketplaces of Nebel and rumours spread to the markets of the realm about a new 'nutty goodness' coming from the artisam farmers fields in the region.

The posters depict an attractive turnip with long hair and a crown. 'The Princess of Neeps'.... 'Raw or as Mash Give - the Cotys Neep a bash!'

The enthusiastic head of the A.F.G. was far too slick to be a farmer in Bart's eyes, but the man wore spectacles which the Lord thought always added a level of gravitas to his words. Right now he had ushered a group of children into the antechamber, with a knowing grin to Bart he flapped his arms counting "1 - 2 - 3 and..."

The children began to sing a repetitive little song about the turnipy delights coming from Nebel.

Bart grinned clapping enthusiastically. "You really think this turnip us the future Merriman?" Bart lit a cheroot, handing congratulatory smokes out to the children's choir.

The enthusiastic guild master bobbed his head up and down: "It's Mervin, Sir. And yes! Lady D'Angelos input has been invaluable, production is almost at 100%! We just think an endorsement could see this going global...." the man's eyes glazed as he lost himself in a turnip haze.

Bart looked down at the basket of attractively arranged neeps. He picked one out, resisting without much difficulty, the urge to take a bite. "Send a complementary box to each regional Lord then Meredith; as to an endorsement..." he pondered the turnip taking a long draw on his cheroot; smiling to himself as an idea formed. The typesetters hand hovered over the tray of woodcut letters. "Just put... "Bart says, 'Even better with Parsley' - capital 'P' on the Parsley."

The guild master looked dubious. "Even better with Parsley?"

Bart turned serious eyes to the man. "Ofcourse! Everything is better with parsley... well known fact... and send to every noble in the realm, we need to get these turnips out there."

'''Roleplay from Sebastian Laststar'''

Sebastian had been knee deep in construction work, commanding his men about as they set to rebuilding some of the more ancient and crumbling parts of Paisly. While working and sweating along with the rest of his involuntary band of workers, he discovered he could in fact carry two foundation bricks at a time on his shoulders, instead of just one. It had boosted their production efforts by a whopping 2% in the region.

He was standing amidst the rest of the bricks delighting in new efficient discovery, when a package suddenly arrived for him. From his new friend Bartimus. 'Even better with Parsley' The end of the note said.

Sebastian scratched his head and wondered why someone would season a vegetable like that. But he followed the instructions and sent a man to find some parsley flakes, and gave his gift a generous dousing.
The taste exploded in the young knight's mouth, when Sebastian finally tried it, his eyes widened in pure wonder. It was just so zesty!

"Go tell Lord Bartimus I need even more!" He shouts towards a waiting servant. "How did he grow turnips like this?!"


'''Roleplay from Bartimus Chamberlain'''

The man from the AFG was back in his office. He cleaned the lenses of his glasses as he waited for Bart to take his seat.  The Margrave lit one of his cheroots leaning back in his chair.

He pushed the papers toward the administrator. "Well Mary, sales of the Cotys Neep are going stellar, I was thinking of rebranding..."

"Mervin Sir," he sighed a little "and what were you thinking?"

He leaned forward drawing deeply on the cheroot, his excitement betrayed by his enthusiasm.  "So I was thinking, Cotys, it's hard to spell... so I was thinking  the 'Barturnip'..." he threw his hands wide, Mervins head already began a slow shake. "Come on! I'm Lord here, Nebel - equals - Bart... the Bart Neep?"

"My Lord," Mervin began carefully, "we have already marketed the humorously shaped carrots as the Barrot... and the Bartato was very popular in Luria..."

He waved his cheroot excitedly.  "Exactly Martin, the Bart already has brand recognition!"

"Mervin, Sir, and sadly the Bart brands have never taken off quite so well as the Cotys Neep, and we have the children's choir 'the Neepers' doing a tour of the regions with their songs of Turnipy Goodness... we have so much merchandise...it would wipe out any profit."

Crestfallen he put his chin on his hand as he took another long draw on the cheroot. "So what do you need to show me today then?"

Mervin stepped to one side, revealing a table with a velvet covered item. Lifting the cloth he revealed a bottle of cloudy liquid with the crowned image of the Cotys Neep on the label.  "You wanted to show me... turnip juice?" He could not hide the fact that he did not want to try this at all.

Mervin clucked with the exasperation of a true artisan. "Not turnip juice Sir, no... Turnip cider... we are calling it Cotysider..." he poured the Margrave a small glass, he dutifully drank it and was surprised to find it did not taste entirely of vomit at all.

Mervin's excitement was tangible. "We already have the tag line, Sir..."

Bart interrupted "Don't tell me... it is something to do with 'turnipy goodness'...." Mervin grinned smugly. Barts brows furrowed at the challenge. "Not 'even better with parsley' again is it?"

Mervin looked so excited that Bart half expected a small puddle on the floor. "No, Sir, its 'Have a Neep of Cotysider'... have a NEEP... get it?"

Bart was stunned: "That is amazing Millie... absolutely amazing... I want you to send a bottle to every noble of the realm... charge it to my account and two to young Laststar, he will love this!"

''AND IN VASHGEW''

'''Roleplay from Bartimus Chamberlain'''

Mervin pushed his spectagoggles up his nose. His usually slick hair was gradually assuming more 'normal' tuftiness making hin seem far more approachable. The A.F.G would be mired in administrative altercations in his absence and he was filled with deep concern to have been away so long already.

"Lord Bartimus I..." Bart gave a stern look above his usual easy smile.

"Just Bart will do when it's just us Melvin, and I shall call you Mel if that's okay." It wasn't a question.

"It's Mervin, Sir. But with respect, why am I here... the parents of the Neepers were quite concerned about them coming to rogue territories, many were... ah... reluctant to sign the consent forms."

Bart raised am eyebrow, "Consent forms you say? By what God do I need consent forms to take children on an educational tour... Malcolm, Malcolm... you won't last long worrying about such fripperies."

He cracked open a crate of Cotysider, "Seriously Mal, what better example could there be of the D'haran civilisation than the tunes and taste of turnipy goodness." He turned to the worried children. "Smoke anyone?" He offered around his silver case, it rwas returned to his hand by one of the curley topped urchins. "Lordy, kids, I'm going to need a bigger case." He lit his own cheroot and inhaled deeply as the Vahgew commoners began emptying the crate of turnipy delights.

Mervin looked worriedly at the happily puffing children. "All-together-now."

    #Whats Golden and smells,
    Comes from Nebels deep wells,
    It's a Neep of Neep a Neep of Neep...
     

and so it began...

'''Roleplay from Bartimus Chamberlain'''

It had been a busy few days, between singing smoking and carousing many of the Neepers had developed a bluesy husk. But Bart decided it added rather than took away from the entertainment they were providing. Mervin had lost his spectagoggles after a tussle over the last of the Cotysider posters.

The foreign folks prattled their gibberish but all now huddled close to the Lord of Nebel, their knees bent and palms open.

"Worra worra, Turnipy Goodness!" They begged.

He cracked open the crates smiling benevolently, "Yes my dirty Vashgewers.... have your worra worra..." they grinned and clapped. He struck a match on the stubbled face of one of the women, he lit his cheroot and handed her a bottle. "Join D'hara.... the home of Cotysider,  and other great vegetable choices."

'''Roleplay from Bartimus Chamberlain'''

All over Vashgew the flags were flying. Simple peasant folk ran to him as he passed, tugging at his cloak their inane grins so charming to behold.

The leader seemed to be a woman called Trevor, she was taller than most with flaming red hair and a beard any viking would envy.... the more lowly folk guided him to the rather ugly if fantastically voluptuous matriarch.

Her toothless grin and the daisy behind her ear left little to the imagination... or so he thought. She stepped aside to reveal a large group of moderately cleaner men and women, some had even brushed their hair!

She stood before them, a look of consternation on her face.

"Worra worra, ting nanga but chip!"

And as one they began to sing in their heavily accented D'harani!

    #A Cotys Neep is just enough to give yourself a treat,
    A Cotys Neep is just enough, it's golden round and neat,
    It's full of turnipy goodness,
    And parsley makes it sweet,
    A Cotys Neep is just enough, it's oh so good to eat!


He turned tearful eyes to Mervin, clapping the bewildered man on the back.

"Look at these simple, folk Meryl, they are ours...  by the power of the Cotys Neep... they are ours."

''TURNIPS FIT FOR A KING''

'''Roleplay from Bartimus Chamberlain'''

Nobody who knew her would ever have described Cotys D'Angelos as having the attributes of a turnip... but as you see the artistic renderings of the A.F.G,  with the crowned golden haired turnip smiling at you with that knowing glint to her turnipy eye... you would be forgiven to have forgotten that she wasn't turnip like before. The posters were fast becoming collectors items, with people bidding on D-Bay for limited editions whenever they became available.

The poster staring at you now, a little curled at edges, is coloured exquisitely by the artists of the A.F.G,  and, (adding much value) is signed by the Margrave of Nebel himself.

A note is attached:
 
‐--
    Autarch Navaar,

    Apologies for the brevity of this missive but I yet find myself abroad at Vashgew... abroad while at home I suppose given that D'haran banners now fly above the government huts. Also further apologies that I was unaware I was addressing soon to be royalty in our brief meeting. I would have tugged a forelock at least twice!

    The leaders of the A.F.G tell me this is a special reserve.... in honesty I find this most dubious, they have been brewing for a matter of months, so I would wonder how a special reserve had been developed so quickly! Regardless it is a fine drink and I hope very much you enjoy it when you have an hour or two that your brain is not required for tyrannical thoughts.

    Wishing you Faithful Fortunes,

    Bart of Nebel

    P.S. I have endorsed the fact that it is my signature on the back of that Cotys poster... though why they'd believe two signatures over one I will never know... D-Bayers are a funny lot.
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