A Slip of the Tongue
In a courthouse at Icewind Dale, a trial has taken place for Cory D. Ponzi. the results of which set legal precident:
Judge: "While highly irregular and certainly damaging to the nobility of the city, I am afraid that I must uphold all contracts made by Cory D. Ponzi. It is well within the noblity's expected skill to shop responsibly for their luxury goods, and indeed they have received the full compensation promised them for their purchase. The fact that a unique mystic image has little to no worth in a practical sense is not grounds to seek reperations for Cory D. Ponzi. I regret the foolishness of our ruling elite, but I hope this harsh lesson improves our business sense in the future. As a consequence, legal precident is herby established that a unique mystic image is it's own valid product, and the estimated valuation of which is in the hands of the traders, such is the case with all unapproved forms of trade. Caveat emptor, as it was in the elvish tongue."
We cut to Icewind Dale, where two lawyers are leaving a courthouse and entering a tavern for a drink after the failed fraud case. One is an aging elf that has long since wrinkled, the other is a snow leopard tabaxi. The proclamation for the cases ruling is now being cried out in the streets. Many citizens feel that a solid blow was struck against the ruling elite, especially after Cony D. Ponzi proceeded to donate 1/4 his winnings back to charitable foundations to the town. The fact that this is a tax write off for the rest of the amount is lost on them. Following alongside stealthy is a Cormyr data spy, gathering chatter on the political state of foreign nations. This is a transcript of the conversation once the two subjects settled in the bar.
Leo: Man that was a wild case. I don't know how that Cony D. Ponzi was able to get away with that "mystic image" scheme. He must have made thousands off the town nobles.
Gran: He was quite a charming little man, he had the judge and jury wrapped completly around his finger.
Leo: I don't care how silver tongued that guy was, it was obvious that he took the bank on a complete ride and somehow nobody could focus on the evidence and just convict him! We are lucky that he didn't completly bankrupt the town!
Gran: You mean blue tongued.
Leo: Pretty sure the expression is silver tongued Gran.
Gran: No, that is a modernized version of the original slang that occured when the term became more and more ascribed to the nobility. The original saying was blue tongued.
Leo: Ok? how did that come about then? I get the silver part, since it ascribes value to speaking, but how does blue correlate to speach proficency?
Gran: It is from an old tale, one about a devil with a blue tongue who swindled a kingdom.
Leo: how come I have never heard this story before?
Gran: it is an ancient tale, older than Netheril and long past via oral tradition in elven communities. Would you like to hear the tale?
Leo: Sure, we don't have any cases for another hour anyway
Gran: Long ago in the ancient wilds of our ancestors, when spirits roamed the land and civilization was but an ember, there was a man known for charm and sloth. He wished to live a frivolous life where others wealth and power were his to wield with abandon. One day in the forest he came upon a spirit of deceit, who saw potential in the young man. The man, who saw an opportunity for power, merged with the spirit, his tongue turning a deep blue to symbolize their pact. With the sprits granted powers, he used trickery and deceit to convince his village that he should be king, and not their current ruler. So enamored and charmed were the town by this young bluetongue that they ousted their fair and just king over petty grievences, and installed him as ruler. He however proved to be an unworthy monarch, quickly turning complacent and debacherous as he spent the towns resources on parades and feasts every day. While at first the celebration was lauded, as it became clear that it would be neverending, some in the town realized they were going to die from the end of their excess. One day, while relaxing in a bath in between the ceaseless celebrations, a fed up hunter who knew the value of hard work and forsaw the end if things kept going, shot bluetongue through the heart with a black arrow, ending the eternal party before the town consumed itself. While at first the town was sad the party was over, after the hunter showed the storehouse that kept the towns food had nearly emptied itself, the townsfolk came to realize how doomed they almost were, and turned on bluetongue for his frivolousness and his inevitably false promises. However when it came time to take the body away, bluetongue was nowhere to be found. It is said that he, or someone like him, still walks among us as a reminder that as enticing as luxury is, unchecked it will lead to ruin. Of course this tale has changed and shifted depending on the teller. as oral traditions often do, but it usually ends with tales of a blue tongued trickster and a vengeful hunter.
Leo: Thats a hell of a story gran.
Gran: I havent even got to the best part.
Leo: which is?
Gran: Well the reason I bring the story up is, that just for a second, I could swear the Ponzi fella's tongue was blue.
