The Gag's Tale

The huge black hat with its fluffy often-changed feathers. The long, curly, glossy black wig. The toy sword and fat purse on his hip. The mishapen lump of putty on his nose. That ridiculous bandit mask over his eyes. There are few in Corlace who don't know The Gag.

It was a festival day in Corlace, many years ago.  Nobles filled the large viewing stands.  The king was finishing his speech announcing the start of festivities.

A young man had his hand burried to the wrist in the purse of a lower-ranking noble in the back of the stands. He was intent on his theft. His heart was pounding too loudly to hear that the king's words were coming to an end.

His mark stood suddenly to applaud and the unexpected moment dragged him forward from his hidden perch behind a banner and he tumbled down the steps of the stands. He rolled through the elite, scattering them like nine-pins. He landed at His Majesty's feet still clutching the embroidered purse.

The applause died. First there was a collective gasp and then bubbling laughter began to ripple through the crowd.

The guards swarmed him immediately. He tried to throw the purse away, coins dribbling at his feet. His feeble attempts to distance himself from his crime only caused the crowd to laugh harder. His howls of protest and denial could barely be heard above the people's enjoyment of his foolishness.

A certain man in the crowd smiled to himself smugly, at first. Amateurism has that effect on the professional. But as he watched the filthy boy being hauled away, saw his naked heels clearing two parallel paths through the scattered coins, his smile faded. He knew how many times in his life that could have been him. He turned and walked away from the scene, looking into every laughing face he passed.

That night the king received a letter. It was signed "Us". The letter described the anger and humiliation suffered by all proper thieves at having to watch their profession be so poorly represented. The author of the letter begged the king to absolve the boy of all wrongdoing, to set him free immediately and in return the author pledged that the full vengeance of an embarrassed host of cutpurses would be released.  'His name will never be spoken again' the letter concluded.

The following morning the boy was released. He was given a royal writ of pardon granting its bearer relief from all past and future accusations. It was flowery with ribons and seals bearing the imprint of the king's own ring. As an added gesture he was allowed to keep the purse, sans coin. Clutching his writ and purse he fled from the jail into the city streets.

It is not known what happened to him. He wasn't seen for many months. When he returned he wore a huge wig and a fat putty nose. He also had that same purse at his waist, and it was filled to bursting with gold.

After a few days in town he was recognized and arrested for more theivery. It was assumed his disguise was merely more amateurism. But he swore he came by his coin rightfully, and he waved his writ of pardon in the guards' faces. Without an accuser they had to let him go on his way. When they asked him his name he said "The Gag".

Since then he's lived his life much the same way.  Walking through town, feathers bobbing on his proud head. Wandering here and there, visiting shopkeepers, talking to beggars, staying in the homes of various minor nobles and well-to-do merchants.  He has no estate of his own save the streets. An uneventful life of leisure but for one notable event scarely a year after his return.

Some toughs in the service of a visiting wealthy family found him mincing about in the streets and thought they'd have some fun at his expense. They chased him down the streets, heckling, demanding he duel them with his toy sword.  The Gag was still a youth then, a funny scrawny thing in his foppery.  Eventually they trapped him an alley and worked him over for his coin.

The Gag dragged himself to a temple and it was weeks before he was well enough to leave their care. Meanwhile gristly discoveries were being made all over Corlace. First they found fingers and toes stuffed into coin purses.  Then hands and feet a few days later. Ears, noses and tongues after a week and finally the heads of The Gag's tormentors wearing bandit masks over their eyes were perched on the porches of their employers.

The Gag was questioned but no guilt could be ascribed to him. Since then his purse has only dispensed its coins to the needy children of Hub, its beggars and its honest merchants.