In the everyday shopping life of the average Elrichian citizen, paper bags have become an expected necessity. Every marketplace has a bustling supply of them, with thickness and handles almost as varied as the goods they carried. But how did these brown bags come to so dominate our market life? The story of how these fibrous patrons of precious goods came to be is a longish and semi-interesting story.
In the beginning, it all started in the sand-blown cities of North Empria, in the Tomb of 1,000,000 Somewhat Emperors. This tomb came about during the Great Western Panic, when each city within Imperial territory had its own candidate for Emperor. It was all eventually sorted out in the Great Imperial Kniving Committee, and as a result this significant tomb, Giga-Tomb, was built and quickly forgotten. At least, for awhile.
A hundred and a fifth years passed, when they lay undisturbed and forgotten. Then, on the one-hundred-sixth year, two tomb raiders and carpetbaggers named Milfousianicus and Mink rediscovered them. Amazed by the awesome might of history and the untold wonders which could be shared from its depths, they quickly sacked the tomb and took every bit of value they could scratch from the walls. Even the linen from the deceased was unraveled, sending countless would-be Emperors tumbling to the ground.
Now, as it turned out, not much of value had been buried in this tomb. All rotten old books describing the history of the land, of use only to the elitist captains of University. The lone exception to this rule, as it turned out, was the linen, which was found to have exuberantly grand carrying properties. With this discovery came the foundation of Milfousianicus, Mink, and Mummies baggage company. The product sold rather well.
But, unbeknown to the entrepreneurial-inclined gentleman, not all was well in their new industry. The mummies whom had been brazenly robbed of loot and dignity found issue with how their remains were treated. In the 11th conclave of the Deceased Imperial Haunting Committee and Creame Parlor, it was decided that all of the mortals using their linens would receive a pox, a hex, and an assortment of other shenanigans.
The Milfousianicus, Mink, and Mummies gang were forced to think on their toes. Every member of their organization complained of mild rash, moderately bad luck, and a tone of general discomfort in their everyday life. They had few routes of recourse, and it seemed to all that they would be doomed to a life of richness and glamour marred by the inconvenience of many daily activities!
Lady Luck was not totally lost, as the mummies soon began to run into troubles of their own. Keeping track of the hundreds of cursed recipients, and where to apply their eternally minor damnation, quickly became a chore. Each bag had to be tracked to the Emperor it originated from, who then had to submit their choice of fate to their otherworldly supervisor. Thus, Milfousianicus, Mink, and Mummies had their out.
When the production of new, paper bags exploded onto the marketplace, linens were seen as junk. They were soon re-purposed into other goods, and the mummies fell way behind on their hex tracks. The people were freed from certified inconvenience, and all the living linen-liners rejoiced.
So, friend, the next time you head to market, remember the pillage that led to the paper or cloth bags you now use. Avoiding the linen is best, lest the mummies clear up their red tape… and come to annoy you!