Tales from Christmases Past
Dearest subjects of The Crowne,
To maximize thy levels of merriment heading into the holidays, herein be numerous short articles from Christmases past. We hope they fill thee with great joy and cheer, but if they do, then don’t forget to pay the Joy and Cheer Tax!
-Thy humble editor
Santa Will Not Give Thee Freedom For Christmas So Stop Asking
Sir Nikolaus von Klaus — also knownst by the honorific “Santa” — hath declared that he will no longer be granting freedom to serfs for Christmas, so thou can stop asking him already.
Whilst 'tis clear from the multitude of letters censured by The Crowne that most of the Kingdom's serfs desire nothing but an end to their involuntary servitude, 'tis economically and morally infeasible to grant any of them l'berty.
"Whilst I am dedicated to bringing gifts to all peoples of the Realm regardless of social class, the Kingdom dependeth on a steady stream of free labour to support its glorious feudal system," spake Sir Klaus. "Now, an extra bale of hay or a ten minute lunch break on Christmas Day beeth totally within reason. But we can't just be giving away freedom to any olde serf or serfette. Just think what that would do to the economie!"
The means with which so many serfs hath acquired writing skills or the money to pay a scribe to writeth their letters to Santa doth remain a mistery yet to be solved. But rest assured, any subject caught educating a serf wilt be punish'd accordingly!
Merrieth Christmas and God saveth The King!
Is That Santa Climbing Down Thy Chimney Or Just Another Pillaging Norseman?
Doſt thou hear a tappy-tap-tap of heavy boots upon thy roof? Hath the warlike neighing of wingéd caribou awakened thy family in the night? Today beeth the Eve of the Mistlemass, so ‘tis important to aſk thyſelf: Is that ſanta climbing down thy chimney or be it juſt another pillaging Norſeman?
The conſequences of this anſwer can beeth fatal. For, whilst ſanta is knownst to ſneaketh in through chimneys to bring gifts to all the Kingdom’s highborn children, the fearſome ſea Raiders wilt most definitely slit thy throat, burn thy home to ash, and ravage thy wyfe.
ſo if a large bearded man cometh through thy hearth in dark of night, beeth ſure to maketh note whither the ſack he carries is filled with toys and preſents or with the ſtill-bloody ſkulls of his vanquished enemies.
6 Festive Ways To Lose Thy Fingers This Winter
The season of icy despair doth descend upon us. For the Kingdom's labourers, that means thou shalt lose at least a finger to the frosts, as thou dost every year. But 'tis no reason to fret, for there beeth many festive ways to lose thy fingers in keeping with the spirit of winter!
Snowball fight. So The King punished thy village and banned thee from possessing weapons, and now thou needs to fend off a pack of savage wolves? Tossing snowballs at the wolves ist a fun way to keep them at bay. But snow projectiles shall only hold them off as long as thou can keep throwing, so thy snowbattle may continue for days. This will surely cause thy fingers to freeze off if they aren't eaten by wolves in the end.
A-sleighing. For the peasants whomst live on the Kingdom's borders, transporting thy harvest overland so it may be deposited in the Royal Pantry is a difficult task in any season, but especially when there beeth multiple feet of snow in which to trudge. In fact, most peasants die on the journey (who cares!). But if thou art wealthy enough to afforde a sleigh and pack animal, thou can make this difficult journey through the snow with no loss but a finger or two.
Building a Snow King. The King is so mighty and grand that building His Likeness out of snow may take weeks. This is why His Majesty hath dozens of artisans in His employ specifically for the task of building Snow Kings 'round all the towns. But 'tis also illegal to let a Snow King melt, so come Springtyme most of these artisans shall lose their fingers trying to prevent this.
Waxing the Royal Skïs. The edges of the Royal Skïs beeth sharper than broadswords, and many a skïwaxer hath lost a finger in so waxing. Not that His Majesty shouldst e'er stoop so low as to participate in winter sports like some sort of regular, howe'er!
Throwing snowballs at mounted knights. Many peasant children enjoy pelting Royal Army Patrols with snowballs out of jest. The knights quite enjoy the chase, too! The punishment when caught is quite lenient and simply involves the chopping of a fingertip.
Standard frostbite. Sometymes winter toil just beeth winter toil, and thou loses a finger from a standard case of frostbite. At least thy lyfe doth not matter!
Obnoxious Sleighers Wake Entire Village With Their Ring-Ting-Tingling
Fie! A group of obnoxious sleigh riders hath been caught ring-ting-tingling through multiple villages in the wee hours of the eve, awakening countless souls from their humble rest.
"'Twas in the midst of the standard three hours of sleep me'gets betwixt workdays, when me'heard the incessant jingling of sleigh bells 'round the village square," sayeth local spoonsmith Yîtto Spoonmaker. "I awakened from mine bed and yelt, 'Stop that confounded ring-ting-tingling before me'throws a spoon at ye!' They musta heard me, for they soon moved on to the next village. But 'twas quite the inconvenience."
"We don't always get such major events happening 'round these parts."
With great luck, the jingle-jangling cusses wert soonafter apprehended. The Royal Guard sayeth they are set to be put to death on Christmas eve for the cryme of waking a nobleman from his slumber.
"We all knoweth that Noblewaking is a heinous cryme, for which all perpetrators shalt be sent to the chopping block," sayeth Royal Guard Captain Sterkbyg Bygsterkson. "We art just lucky we caught these giddyupping scoundrels before they interrupted the graceful sleep of two, or even three, nobles."
Santa’s Naughty List All Peasants and Serfs Again
Badde news for the Kingdom’s labourers: Sir Nikolaus von Klaus, Bringer of Gifts and Sleigher of Reindeer, hath announced that his naughty list consists entirely of peasants and serfs again.
‘Tis now the two-hundredth year straight that no one in the Kingdom’s lower classes shalt receive even a single present. And ‘tis all the more unfortunate since these wretched souls possess no wealth with which to purchase their own gifts.
“Some people question my methods for determining whomst gets on the naughty and nice lists. Peasants and serfs hath been particularly upset about how they’re on the naughty list by default,” spake Sir Klaus. “I tell them that asking impudent questions is a surefire way to land thyself on the naughty list, so they’re not really helping their case.”
The Great Sleigher himself hath decreed it, and no nobleman, regardless of sentiment, shall provide these naughty workingmen with so much as a loaf of bread. Once Santa hath deemed them naughty, to give such a gift would be an affront to the Christmas Spirit.
But there beeth hope yet for these ne’er do-wells. Through a year of hard labour and strict loyalty to their lord, peasants can still produce grain to feed the Royal Mouth, without inconveniencing their master with petty entreaties for presents. Perhaps the real Christmas gift is the ability of a vassal to provide services free of charge to his liege!
