Nicoleta
07-28-2007, 05:46 PM
CHAPTER I
In which the University is found strapped for cash.
A cunning plan is hatched by the city's Ministry of Government.
There are few schools as respected as Silvermoon University. Founded over six millennia ago at the dawn of Quel'thalas, it served as home for some of the greatest intellectuals of Azeroth's storied history. Medivh studied wizardry there until he opened a portal to the "booze dimension" during a fraternity party and flooded the campus with grain alcohol. Jaina Proudmoore was originally an interpretive dance major until her father convinced her to switch to high magic so "she could get a job." And few people realize that Hogger, terror of the Elwynn Forest, has a MBA in accounting from the Univerisity's School of Business.
Nothing is forever, though, and even institutions as time-honored as Silvermoon University can wither and die. When Arthas's army of undead invaded Quel'thalas, the school's libraries were plundered, its students driven off, and the campus burned. For six long years, the school's charred and blackened doors remained closed.
Until now. With the arrival of the Horde, Silvermoon is rebuilt and along with it, the University. But one nagging problem remains ...
"How are we going to pay for this?"
Silvermoon's Patriarch of High Government glared at the Ministers scattered around the room. "Seriously, how are we going to pay for this?" he repeated. "It's great that the buildings are up, but we still need to hire professors, buy furniture for the classrooms, and outfit the cheerleaders with new pompoms. There's no room in the budget for education. I just... I don't know. How did we used to fund this stuff?
The Minister of Finance straightened his tie before addressing the room. "Silvermoon University has always been funded by the generous donations of our city's aristocracy," he mumbled. "Our upper crust considered education a great investment, as they disliked being surrounded by slack-jawed yokels."
"Why aren't they putting up money now, then?" the Patriarch asked. "It's not as if we ran out of slack-jawed yokels. With all these orcs and trolls running around the city, we're practically swimming in them!"
"I'm afraid that all the traditional donors were wiped out by the war. We're a class-based society, sir, and the Scourge invading Quel'thalas had a dreadful effect on our prime commodity, namely indentured servants, peasants, and other assorted serfs," the Minister of Finance explained. "When Arthas's ghouls marched into the forest, they ate into our profits."
"How so?"
"I meant that literally, sir. They ate our peasants and serfs. And without peasants and serfs, our nobles are just... well... broke."
The Patriarch sighed and rubbed his temples. "What about the Horde?" he asked. "What good is our alliance with Orgrimmar if they can't help us out in our time of need?"
"Let's see here," the Minister of Foreign Relations paused to look over his clipboard. He chewed on his pen and shuffled some paper. "It looks like Orgrimmar has pledged some help. They'll give us a team of oxen and several carts full of axe heads. They'll also send 50 spear-throwing trolls."
"How am I supposed to fund a school with 50 spear-throwing trolls? We need gold!"
The Minister of Foreign Relations shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, sir. The orcs haven't really mastered the concept of currency yet."
"Great! Just great!" the Patriarch sighed as he slumped into his chair at the head of the table. "Anyone else have any bright ideas?"
The Minister of War leapt to his feet. He flushed with inspiration and was eager to share his idea with the group. "We could attack Ironforge!"
"What? Why?"
"It solves two problems, as I see. Not only do get revenge on the dwarves for ignoring Silvermoon in our time of need," said the Minister of War with a proud grin, "But we also kill off all of our college-aged youth, thus negating the need to re-open the University."
The Patriarch's eyes grew dark and sullen. The rest of the room looked uncomfortably at their own feet. After several painful minutes of deep thought, The Minister of Finance cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, there is ONE family we haven't considered," he said. "The Feiniels."
"Finrod Feiniel? The venture capitalist? He wasn't wiped out by the war?"
The Minister of Finance shook his head. "No. He made his money solely through his investments, so didn't have any peasants to lose," he explained, "In fact, the war made him incredibly rich, due to his foresight to invest in the coffin market as Arthas crossed into Quel'thalas. You could say that he, um, made a killing."
"I'm willing to overlook that tasteless joke if we can get him to fund the University. How can we reach him?"
"Well, therein lies the problem. The public was outraged when they found out about his personal interest in their untimely death, and he was driven out of town after the war. The last thing I heard was that he followed Prince Kael into the Outland. No one's seen him since."
"Is his money still around?"
The Minister of Finance nodded. "His two daughters, Nicoleta and Meike, are still living in the city, and they seem to have access to a trust fund of some sort. Maybe they could be convinced to become trustees of the University."
"Trustees? Bah... if they're willing to fund the school, they can HAVE the place," said the Patriarch with a malicious grin. "Have my secretary draft a letter today!"
In which the University is found strapped for cash.
A cunning plan is hatched by the city's Ministry of Government.
There are few schools as respected as Silvermoon University. Founded over six millennia ago at the dawn of Quel'thalas, it served as home for some of the greatest intellectuals of Azeroth's storied history. Medivh studied wizardry there until he opened a portal to the "booze dimension" during a fraternity party and flooded the campus with grain alcohol. Jaina Proudmoore was originally an interpretive dance major until her father convinced her to switch to high magic so "she could get a job." And few people realize that Hogger, terror of the Elwynn Forest, has a MBA in accounting from the Univerisity's School of Business.
Nothing is forever, though, and even institutions as time-honored as Silvermoon University can wither and die. When Arthas's army of undead invaded Quel'thalas, the school's libraries were plundered, its students driven off, and the campus burned. For six long years, the school's charred and blackened doors remained closed.
Until now. With the arrival of the Horde, Silvermoon is rebuilt and along with it, the University. But one nagging problem remains ...
"How are we going to pay for this?"
Silvermoon's Patriarch of High Government glared at the Ministers scattered around the room. "Seriously, how are we going to pay for this?" he repeated. "It's great that the buildings are up, but we still need to hire professors, buy furniture for the classrooms, and outfit the cheerleaders with new pompoms. There's no room in the budget for education. I just... I don't know. How did we used to fund this stuff?
The Minister of Finance straightened his tie before addressing the room. "Silvermoon University has always been funded by the generous donations of our city's aristocracy," he mumbled. "Our upper crust considered education a great investment, as they disliked being surrounded by slack-jawed yokels."
"Why aren't they putting up money now, then?" the Patriarch asked. "It's not as if we ran out of slack-jawed yokels. With all these orcs and trolls running around the city, we're practically swimming in them!"
"I'm afraid that all the traditional donors were wiped out by the war. We're a class-based society, sir, and the Scourge invading Quel'thalas had a dreadful effect on our prime commodity, namely indentured servants, peasants, and other assorted serfs," the Minister of Finance explained. "When Arthas's ghouls marched into the forest, they ate into our profits."
"How so?"
"I meant that literally, sir. They ate our peasants and serfs. And without peasants and serfs, our nobles are just... well... broke."
The Patriarch sighed and rubbed his temples. "What about the Horde?" he asked. "What good is our alliance with Orgrimmar if they can't help us out in our time of need?"
"Let's see here," the Minister of Foreign Relations paused to look over his clipboard. He chewed on his pen and shuffled some paper. "It looks like Orgrimmar has pledged some help. They'll give us a team of oxen and several carts full of axe heads. They'll also send 50 spear-throwing trolls."
"How am I supposed to fund a school with 50 spear-throwing trolls? We need gold!"
The Minister of Foreign Relations shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, sir. The orcs haven't really mastered the concept of currency yet."
"Great! Just great!" the Patriarch sighed as he slumped into his chair at the head of the table. "Anyone else have any bright ideas?"
The Minister of War leapt to his feet. He flushed with inspiration and was eager to share his idea with the group. "We could attack Ironforge!"
"What? Why?"
"It solves two problems, as I see. Not only do get revenge on the dwarves for ignoring Silvermoon in our time of need," said the Minister of War with a proud grin, "But we also kill off all of our college-aged youth, thus negating the need to re-open the University."
The Patriarch's eyes grew dark and sullen. The rest of the room looked uncomfortably at their own feet. After several painful minutes of deep thought, The Minister of Finance cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, there is ONE family we haven't considered," he said. "The Feiniels."
"Finrod Feiniel? The venture capitalist? He wasn't wiped out by the war?"
The Minister of Finance shook his head. "No. He made his money solely through his investments, so didn't have any peasants to lose," he explained, "In fact, the war made him incredibly rich, due to his foresight to invest in the coffin market as Arthas crossed into Quel'thalas. You could say that he, um, made a killing."
"I'm willing to overlook that tasteless joke if we can get him to fund the University. How can we reach him?"
"Well, therein lies the problem. The public was outraged when they found out about his personal interest in their untimely death, and he was driven out of town after the war. The last thing I heard was that he followed Prince Kael into the Outland. No one's seen him since."
"Is his money still around?"
The Minister of Finance nodded. "His two daughters, Nicoleta and Meike, are still living in the city, and they seem to have access to a trust fund of some sort. Maybe they could be convinced to become trustees of the University."
"Trustees? Bah... if they're willing to fund the school, they can HAVE the place," said the Patriarch with a malicious grin. "Have my secretary draft a letter today!"