The fourth open data parable.
In a time long past, in a land far away, there was once a great fen. A vast, sprawling wetland filled with a richness of plants and criss-crossed with many tiny streams and rivers.
This fertile land was part of a great kingdom ruled by a wise and recently crowned king. The fen was home to a hardy and industrious people who made a living from fishing, cutting peat and gathering the rare herbs that sprouted amongst the verdant grasses.
At the time of this tale the new king was travelling across his lands to learn more about his people. In a certain area of the fen he expected to find a thriving town that had become widely renowned for the skills of its herbalists and fishermen.
Instead he came upon a ramshackle collection of makeshift huts and tents clinging to patches of dry ground. The dejected people living in these shelters had clearly fallen on hard times and were eking out a living on the verges of the fen. Nearby was what was clearly the ruins of their settlement. Houses had tumbled haphazardly into the waters. The broken remains were being picked over for materials to build shelters and provide wood for fires.
Speaking to a fisherman, the king asked “What terrible disaster has befallen your village? How have you good people been brought so low?”
While continuing his task of mending a fishing net, the fisherman proceeded to tell the following tale:
“Our town has grown slowly over the years, sire. We live a hard life in the fens, and building on this treacherous land takes great care. For years our people were limited to building on isolated patches of stable ground. Our original village clung tightly to the patches of rock hidden just beneath the surface of these waters.
Until we made our pact with the Wizard of the Wash.
One day the Wizard came to us and demonstrated his great magicks. Showing how his powers could be used to drive great wooden piles deep into the peat. Deep enough to reach the bedrock and let us build wherever we wished. We would need only ask the Wizard to create a stable footing and we could build wherever we chose. In return, and to complete our pact, we need only to collect for him the rarest herbs and plants for his research. An easy task for us as we have long known the secrets of the fen.
And so for many years we have prospered. Each year we have planned out where we would build our new houses and workshops. And pointed to where we needed new roads, inns and store houses. And each year the Wizard would oblige us with his magicks. The town has spread across the fen and we great started to grow rich from trade.
But then things began to change.
In the beginning the Wizard refused to drive new piles in a few places. He explained that he was concerned that the buildings may hinder certain herbs which grew in that area. And we followed his wishes for there were other places to build.
And so this continued. Each year the Wizard would reject some of our plans or convince us to change them for his own ends. For example where we once had planned a school he instead convinced us to build a new dock for his supply boats. Disappointed, we again submitted to his wishes, for we still needed to build and there was still space aplenty elsewhere. As traders we had grown accustomed to compromise.
But then the Wizard began to visit us more frequently, demanding to review in more detail our plans. He objected to certain buildings being extended as they blocked views that he enjoyed. He began to refuse to build in ever more locations and expressed opinions about how the town should grow.
Once he even required us to dismantle several houses so that we might build a better inn for him to stay in during his visits. He threatened to simply remove the foundations if we didn’t comply. In return he choose to drive in only a few new piles. As a result some families were forced to live in cramped and poorer lodgings. And what choice did we have but to comply?
In these last few years the Wizard has became ever more demanding. He has argued that these piles were his, had always been his, and that we have only been using them with his permission. If we were unhappy, he argued, we could simply return to building as we had before.
Sire, while these lands are ours and have been for many generations, we had gladly given ourselves over to a petty tyrant. Once the pact had been made it was easier to comply than to resist.
The final disaster happened a few months ago. The Wizard had long been growing old and unwell. One night he passed away whilst staying in our finest inn. And on that night all of his magicks were undone. And so our fine town suddenly fell back into the swamp.
And so, as you see, we were ruined.”
Sadden by the tale, the king realised that here was a people whose needs had long been overlooked, leaving them at the mercy of fickle powers. He resolved to help them rebuild.
On the spot he issued a decree for the Royal Engineers to provide assistance to any town, village or people that required help. His kingdom would be built on firm foundations.
Lost Boy 