TITLE: "Orga Shaman attacks Puddleby!!"
SUBMITTED: the 24th day of the 9th month
AUTHOR: Kestrel

    In the wee hours (according to my internal body clock) of the 24th day of the 9th month, Puddleby was viciously attacked by rank of Demonic Vermine, Orga, and even an Abyssal Hunter. Here's what I witnessed:
    I happened to be in the North Field, slaying a few slimetubes (slugs) when much yelling arose to the south. MUCH yelling. There were huge numbers of Demonic Vermine attacking town and bodies were apparently dropping like the proverbial flies!
    Feeling some responsibility to my fellow companions, and even the town (though I'm rather new in the area), I ran down to see what I could do to help. Upon nearing the center of town, my ears were pricked and my fur was standing straight on end. Something was definitely afoot. Or a-paw, as it were. Those hellish yellow vermine were running circles around most of Puddleby's finest and bloodied bodies were strewn about like scattered corn for farm chickens. When two of those jaundiced little beasts focused in on me, I did what any good fighter would do: turned tail and ran. There was no way I could be of help in THAT  situation. I met up with Mega on the north side of town and we hurriedly looked for reinforcements. The hive was  empty, the north fields were empty, nobody was answering our calls. For a minute, we pondered the thought that perhaps it was too late... that we were the only two left standing! Mega thought we should head around to the east side of town, so we made haste. Upon nearing the eastern entrance we happened upon 5 other citizens who were finishing off an Orga and trying to recover. With little planning (and much pressure), we ran back into town to see what the situation was like.
    Worse. More bodies littered the ground and the demonic vermine were still running rampant. There were also several Orga milling about. We took a few bad hits and then regathered and tried again. I was frightened that perhaps there were too many of them.
    Suddenly voices arose from the northwest part of town! Scared voices. A giant red skeleton was spotted (those who spied, died) and it was moving fast! Several of us looked at each other in disbelief. How could this get worse? Somebody thought it was the fabled Abyssal Hunter, but a positive identification was hard due to the death brought about by it's proximity. Then, without warning,  it was upon us... I tried to attack -- in vain. One swift strike and I was massively wounded by the beast from hell. I could only wait... and watch... and bleed...
    It was such a traumatic sight! But all I could do was observe. It was running willy-nilly, hell-bent on killing. The last thing I saw was Tori sprinting by with the red death hot on her trail. That image is stuck in my little feline mind... With little notice, the attack was suddenly over. A few healers started getting people back on their feet and soon a mass of people had gathered in the square. Turns out that an Orga Shaman has summoned the attack on Puddleby and we were all at his mercy until somebody took him out. Good thing, too, as there was not a whole lot left to do (except decompose slowly in the sun should no rescue arrive). I am unsure of what prompted this malicious attack, but I vow to train myself ever harder, push myself beyond my limits, so I am better prepared in the future. I would advise all to do the same. We were weak and we suffered greatly. To all who healed and fought, I personally thank you. We rallied together and we fought bravely. Next time (hopefully not) we'll be ready.

Whoever took out the Orga Shaman, you deserve public adoration!


-- Kestrel

TITLE: "The Consequences of Testing an Ancient's Patience"
SUBMITTED: the 23rd day of the 9th month
AUTHOR: Pharazon of Fen'Norlan

Greetings and Well Met!

    I did not intend to write again so soon, but recent events compelled me to once again put my thoughts on paper. After all, it is not every day one has personal contact with the Ancients.
    Yesterday, while meditating within the temple in Puddleby, I felt a strange change in the pressure of the air and heard a commotion outside. Exiting, I hurried to the center of town where a small group had formed around the strangest being I have yet seen in the lands. It was a glowing blue sphere, roughly fen'neko sized, which spoke in perfectly understandable language. It's name hammered itself into my brain without even asking: Xusirevert.
    I had heard rumors of this strange Ancient, but nothing could have prepared me for this encounter. Apparently he has spent most of his life in the Astral Plane, but came to our world to find out more about us. He seemed interested in the everyday life in Puddleby, asking if this was the area people gathered and if there were any others. I answered to the best of my ability, as did a few others, but unfortunately the majority of exiles were behaving in the most unseemly manner towards our visitor. Everyone seemed focused on obtaining favors or information from Xusirevert instead of helping him understand our lives.
    One particularly rude Gorak Zo (I was as shocked as you) named Stone went to the extreme of cursing and even threatening Xusirevert. He appeared to take this in stride, but when Stone persisted in his behavior (despite requests from myself and another to stop), Xusirevert asked Stone if he would like to see his home. Everyone appeared very excited to visit the home of Xusirevert, and he said everyone who wanted to go should stand next to him.
    My friends, I tried to warn them. Even this humble fen'neko knew that Xusirevert was not doing this out of the kindness of his heart. It was a lesson, hard as many lessons are that come from these powerful souls. Before I could say more than a short warning, I found myself walking through the pearly mist of the Astral, along with a small group of unfortunate exiles. Here other beings similar to Xusirevert flew effortlessly through the air, striking down any in their path. I used my sunstone to send a message to Xusirevert that I had no intention of wanting to come here, but no answer was forthcoming.
    Hastening about, completely lost, I managed to avoid the deadly spheres until I saw an area of red mist up ahead. Thinking it to be the exit, I ran forward.
    I don't have the words to describe the Abyss I found myself in. Fire, smoke, screams... it was very quick. Undine rushed about me, and I was brought down by golden daemonic vermine completely unseen in the confusion in a matter of seconds. I lay dying with other dead exiles around me, all of whom soon let their Spirits depart. Two of note stayed to keep me company for a short while, Binoche and Joy, but they too soon left. I will not lie to you, I did not leave because I was afraid for my soul. How was I to know that a Spirit departing in this foul Hell would find itself back to Purgatory and not some far worse place. Terrified, I stayed.
    Amazingly, Xusirevert's booming voice entered my head, speaking to me alone. "Are there any coming to rescue you?" he asked. "Just answer out loud."
    "No," I said. "I don't think anyone can reach me here."
    A second later, I found myself in Purgatory, fully healed, without my Spirit leaving my body. To my knowledge, this was the only time anyone has left the Abyss without departing, and I am indebted to Xusirevert for his generosity. I don't know why he did it, the Ancients are impossible to fathom, but I think there is a lesson in that I did not ask for help, I was as polite and humble with him as I knew how, and I did my level best to give him the information he was looking for. I can only wonder at what he must think of us with the rabble he was subjected to in town.

Think before you act, my friends, for all our sakes...

Good Hunting!

Pharazon of Fen'Norlan
Clan Rising Claw

TITLE: "The Beginning"
SUBMITTED: the 23rd day of the 9th month
AUTHOR: Forgoten

        Let's see now, how shall I begin; "Once upon a time...", no, no too  unreal; perhaps "In the beginning...", no too serious; well I'll spare  you this part; suffice it to say:  A long, long time ago it came to pass  that the Ancients created a land, a land of enchantment and mystery.  In  this land they also created a great peoples capable of anything.  They  were divided into 7 groups: "The People", Thoom, Men, Hobbits, Dwarves,  Sylvan, and the Gorak Zo.  I won't go into the rich details of every  race, simply put they all have their distinctive backgrounds and special  abilities.  Now as these things came to pass i was summoned, not by the  Ancients mind you, but of something else I know not what, and by this I  came to be.  My physical form was that of "The People", as they are so  called, but my mind and spirit were of a different nature (which I will  speak of later).  As time passed I began calling myself "Forgoten" being  as old as the earth and being of no lineage, but also because of the few  people I encounter and actually take tome to talk to and train with, to  them I am always a friend to others I am merely another face in the  crowd.  My mind was more complex than any of you can possibly imagine,  the things that go through my mind are no to be spoken of, my turmoil is  not meant for mortal men, but despite this fact I am always cheerful,  ready to help a friend or defend the weak this is what I live for.  My  spirit is always in conflict with my mind, it is always hopeful and  loving while my mind is full of despair, I hope one day to find someone  to share my life with in every detail, but until then my life is no ones  save mine to observe.  Finally in closing I wish you all the best of  luck, you can expect to hear from me in the future, but until then, Fare  thee well.

"Nothing in life is impossible, put your mind to it and you can  accomplish anything"

TITLE: "Flame"
SUBMITTED: the 22nd day of the 9th month
AUTHOR: EL Chupacabras

    As many exiles know Flame the fire drake came to the island.  While many gatherd to hear if he would spout poetry like midsummer, others came to attack. After bieng wounded Flame took to flight, vanishing from the island. Just after Flame left we recived a personal meesage from him "Midsummer is evil,  I shall return tto protect from her evils."
    We ask all of the exiles to first hear out hte drakes then kill them.

                                                          EL Chupacabras
                                                 Clan of the Rising Claw

TITLE: "Coincidence? I Think Not!"
SUBMITTED: the 21st day of the 9th month
AUTHOR: Rutabaga, a healer

        I have scribbled me latest thoughts on an old crumpled up piece of parchment found lying on top of me rickety, uneven writing desk (Me desk is in desperate need of replacing, for one leg is shorter than the rest and I find it unbearably difficult to concentrate whilst I am overtaken by a creative outburst). Putting that aside, I hope your scribe finds it legible, and not creased beyond recognition, enabling me thoughts to be read.
        What I am about to say may shock you. In fact, what I am about to reveal continues to shock me 'til this very day. And yet, I cannot keep it a secret any longer. The fact that I have held it to meself for this long, only goes to show that I am now quite certain that there is something significant occurring within the realm of me existence.
        If you do not know it by now, I have been exiled on this vermin infested, fresh produce lacking, speck of an island for such an extended period of time that me memory fails to recall how and when I first arrived ( I do seem to remember it somehow involved legumes, but I cannot quite put me finger, paw, mit, hoof or digit on it). Alas I digress, and when I say digress, I mean I drift off topic, like a sailboat drifting onto the shores of Puddleby itself (which reminds me, I be needing to get me boat onto the ocean sometime soon, as me soul yearns for the calming influence of the waves on me nerves). Where was I? Oh yes, me revelation of the forces that are conspiring against me.
        Let me think.....I guess it may have started back when I first set foot into Puddleby. Under me first guise of many (for as you see, I have mastered the art of disguise, by magical methods of course, thereby keeping one step ahead of the blasted conspirators, yet this process takes quite a large amount of spiritual energy to accomplish, therefore I cannot do it as often as I would like). Have I wandered off topic once more? How unfortunate. Let me return to what I be trying to explain here.
        It is quite obvious. There seem to be those who find it necessary to make me life difficult whenever the opportunity arises. For instance, the moment I placed me right limb onto the surf of Puddleby's shore, I have been fraught by attempt after attempt on me life. I have had to be quick of wit, and a little on the fortunate side to avoid being stomped into the earth like an insignificant insect (Although one can hardly say that Myrms be insignificant, and for that matter, Wurms as well!)
        Whether it had been a bloodthirsty pirate, ("Play nice" indeed! What in damnation was he referring too?), a rather devious and famished Orga (Not ripe enough was I? Grrr), or even a so called "spirit lord" (Now, lord you may be, but sometimes me wonder where your spirit lie), I am the target of many a personal attack, with the infliction of almost but not quite mortal wounds. These not be all the incidents I can recall, for me memory fails me sometimes, amongst other things. Methinks someone, or something be having a little fun. Well, I be here to say, as the vegetable I am and always will be, that I will no longer brush these incidents off as mere coincidence. I have taken notice, and beware, for I have also taken action!
        What do I be plotting you may ask? I not be that foolish (although some of me past deeds may be at odds with the statement in which I be interrupting here) as to boldly blurt out what I plan to do as retaliation for the past offenses against me. And yet, I may be unstable enough to give the forces conspiring against me a subtle hint. Think GHERKINS! I shall say no more, for I hope to catch some, if not all of them off guard. They shall have to find out for themselves. Drat! I have spilt me ink all over the rest of the blasted parchment. It seems me tale ends about here....

Rutabaga, a healer

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