TITLE: Boats!
SUBMITTED: The 13th day of the 8th month
AUTHOR: Jamieson

Greetings, fellow adventurers, marmots, town-dwelling gossips, and other assorted beasts!
   It is I, Jamieson, the ever-vigilant, ever-curious, ever-trapped-in- heaven, ever-odd Ghorak Zo once again! I have more news to relay, my friends. And it is indeed exciting news! No doubt many of you have dis- covered it all by this time, but it is news nonetheless. Peanut.
   Botas! Er, Tabos! No ... Baots! Hrm. Ships. Right. Ships go on the sea; boats on freshwater. Right. GET IT STRAIGHT, O THOU OMNIPOTENT IMMORTAL-TYPES! Ahem. Scuse. Sneep! Right, then. Ships.
   Ships! They are now available! No longer do the denizens of the southern islands (those being us exiles (or escapees from the loony asylum whose name I shall never speak (it brings back too many bad, fresh, and downright weird memories) again), of course) possess the very nifty ability to walk on water. Poopy! Now we have ships! Well, okay, I suppose that they ARE boats ... rowboats, to be precise.
   How does one go about securing for one's own personal pleasures one of said vessels? Easy. Simply take a long walk off a short pier ... er, I mean, uh, take a stroll down to the end of the Puddleby Pier and have a chat with the oh-so-personable Captain who has recently taken to hang- ing about over there. Bump into the drunken bugger, and he'll offer to you a boat. Buy one!
   There you go! You are off! And quite a ride it is! Move around as usual. Whee! Your oars move in time with your strokes (oh, baby), and you're even wearing the proper colours of clothes! Nifty! Take yourself on a nice, relaxing cruise over to the menagerie (just to be insulted by that very holier-than-me centaur bum (who is still ranting about needing a longer lunch break), no less). Or stop by the arena island for some good old-fashioned mauling-of-one's-friends, pay a copper to go in and be recognized by a god (which is a useless gesture, but kind). Or perhaps, my young friend named Tim, have it out with the hooded corpses and shredders of good ol' Ash Island ... sneak around in the woods and get some good views of those ultra-sexy Darshak Nudists! Or DOWN! DROWN, DAMN IT! Er, pardon. Piff. Plop. Snippity-do! Yeah.
   OR ... have a fun time playing pirates!
   For better or for worse, folksmobiles, folkswagons, and others, boats (ships!) are with us.
   My only complaint is the fact the I seem to be facing and rowing in the wrong direction. You know - you sit in a rowboat and, because the mechanics of the body work best in this manner, you pull at the oars, and propel yourself BACKWARDS. THESE boats, on the other hand, seem to magically GO THE WRONG WAY! Oh, well. The gods can't ALWAYS know every- thing.
   In the meantime, you cute freakin' wallaby, enjoy! And try not to spend TOO much time in that blasted "heaven" place. What a pain in the buttocks!
--Jamieson, the Ghorak Zo who can't seem to find RiffRaff clanning, who talks to trees and rocks (which talk back!), and who in general dies all too often.

TITLE: The Orga Healer
SUBMITTED: The 12th day of the 8th month
AUTHOR: Cretzih

        Last night, a large group of Orga invaded the North East field. The townspeople, always ready, rose do defeat the menace. I myself drew Orga blood with my axe. After nearly all of the Orga were dead, a so called "Smart Orga" ( because it has the brains to run from some of the more powerful fighters in the area) ran through town. I and someone else ( I did not have time to catch his name, unfortunatly) chased him into the North beach.
        We lost him, and I lost sight of the other exile. I had taken bites from many rockdiles, and I ran to the north east corner. From there, I entered the small area inbetween the beach and the town's farms. When I entered, I saw an amazing sight.
        BlueCross and the Orga were in the small room. BlueCross looked to be healing the Orga, so I did not attack it. But, after awhile, I noticed BlueCross's condition to be improving.
        Before I could ask any questions, another exile came in the other entrance and attacked the Orga. I gave chase, and told him to stop, but he did not.
        I went back to town, and told others of what I saw, but I was laughed at. I waited around town, asking others not to kill the Orga.
        Minutes later, the Orga charged back into town. I, plus many others this time, followed him into the most southern forest. Some were killed, and I finnaly died near the entrance to the swamp. The Orga found me. Knowing that I saw him heal before, I asked for his help. He cruely laughed at me, and began to walk away. I told him how I told others not to kill him.
        After I said that, he turned around. He stepped over my body, and began to heal me. I have included a drawing of this event (Please note that this is not the best drawing).

        I rose from the dead, and thanked the Orga. However, before I could continue out conversation, I was attacked by a wild cat. I dove for cover in the swamp. The Orga did not follow.
        I ran to a safe area in the marsh, and used the power of my sunstone to tell others of what had happened. Again, I was called an Orga lover and was laughed at.
        Of course, it was killed. They had a right, I suppose; it had killed others, and only saved one. However, I belive that it could have been reasoned with. I also belive that, with this incedent and with the reports of Orga Shamans and Orga Warleaders, the Orgas are evovling, because of their proximity to us. For better or for worse, I know not. But I do know they are changing.
        I also relize that I am a recent exile to this land, and may not know everything about the Orga.
        I just want you to know it happened.
--Written by Cretzih

TITLE: Strange things are afoot
SUBMITTED: The 11th day of the 8th month
AUTHOR: Jamieson

Fellow, adventurers, vermines, and silly people!
   Strange things are afoot, ahand, aflipper, and awagonwheel in the  world! Indeed, I have witnessed some odd occurences (aside from Beacon's weird  pants, of course) whilest out amongst the wilds of the islands. It seems as
though the world is speaking out! Is this a hoax, a cruel trick being played  upon us by the ever-so-bored immortal beings of the realms? Or is it instead an  actual peek into the rambling thoughts of the underside of our world? Or perhaps  it is a bowl of cereal. Perhaps we shall never know.
   I was out taking a stroll, a mosey, a saunter through the eastern  forests of the main island, kicking the heads off of flowers and putting an Ogra  or two here and there in its place, when an odd thing occured. A tree spoke  to me! It asked a nearby flower if it could perhaps spare some fertilizer.  Well, I was somewhat taken aback, for I had never witnessed such a thing! I  strode on up to the arboreal giant and asked it to repeat itself. It immediately shut up, however, and no matter how much I cajoled (I even offered it some jelly beans!) it spake no more. I was so surprized at this strange thing that I forgot to draw a picture of the phenomenomenomenon. Drat! Well, I was now warned, and I would not be so unthinking in the future! Ha!
   So I went on my way, this time moving more slowly, more quietly. You  see, it occured to me that the trees of these lands are very shy, and are not  at all liable to speak if they know that an animate such as myself is within earshot. Sew, I moved carefully. Lo, and behold! I caught yet another tree as it rambled on about the local wildlife! This time, I did draw a  picture.

  I went up to it to ask it its opinion of wallabies, upon which it then shut up. Not to be discouraged, I travelled on, going a bit deeper into  the wilderness. Poit.
   Staple, walking quietly as I was, I came upon the following two trees speaking, making sure to, of course (or fine), scribble pictures of each.

   Very strange! And not at all normal, either! Affix, I continued on in search of more such odd occurences. I strode over to the south beach, dodging rockodiles (and squishing one or two as the mood hit me), hoping to circle around to the marshes and see what offered there. On my way, I caught the following:

   I continued onwards towards the marshes. There, I witnessed these two weeping willows in the middle of a conversation. They were lamenting about the very poor conditions to be found for trees in the marshes.

   I went to my friend, the Crazy Hermit, in his hut. He lives there, in the marshes, by the weigh. I asked him what he thought of all this, but his answer was, as usual, unhelpful.

   Sew, I went onwards yet. I came back into the forests, and found that my bladder was full. Well, I won't go on about it, but here's what I saw:

   It seems that even the wildlife will talk if you keep yourself far at the edge of the area so that you cannot be seen. I came towards Puddleby and heard a strange weeping sound. Odd, I thought. I trundled southwards and witnessed the following:

   The vermine was consoling the tree! Imagine that! Do it! Imagine it right now, damn it!!!
   I ran through town to check on a hunch that I had ... and, to my very great surprize, caught TWO of the buildings there speaking their minds!

   Very strange! Very weird! Whoo-hoo! I like shoes!
   I went to the docks, my friends, and travelled. Yes, indeed, this very odd phenomenomenon is not isolated to our little neato spiffy island! Witness:

   Is this true? Do the features of our lands actually think and speak as we do? Tippie-tippie-tappie-pappie. Maybe. Or maybe it's simply a hoax, a big joke being played upon us by the ever-so-bored powers which be.
   I can't tell you which, my fellow wombats. But keep your eyes open ...
--Jamieson, the adventurer who likes shoes.

TITLE: Orga's aren't the way the seem
SUBMITTED: The 8th day of the 8th month
AUTHOR: Polerand

        The day of the Orga Warlord's "defeat" I was sitting in town trying to think of something to do and a few others decided to go to Tangle Wood to go help the few that were dying or should I say the masses that were dying? Anyway we were on our way and ran into three very angry death vermine and to shorten my story we were lying dead soon. My love Porsche, my dear friend BlueCross and I were together waiting around talking when out of nowhere the great spirit lord Xusirevert appeared in a rather bruised condition. He asked us why we didn't just depart and I simply stated the fellowship was good and after a while he grew tired of our mortal beings and left. Soon after Xusirevert's departure we heard screams from others that were dead in the same area of the wood as us my mind seems to have trouble recalling exact words but it was something like, "Hey this Orga just killed a death vermine!" This was odd news to us afterall the Orga Camp is overrun by them. This Orga came to our dead bodies and kindof wandered around for a while. One of the two remaining vermine came by and the Orga petted it and then killed it oddly enough. To our good fortune a healer stumbled upon our location and healed us as the Orga killed the last death vermine. While most of us were standing the Orga just stood there and suddenly in a fit of rage attacked two of our group including my love and dear friend greatly angering me. When all were up they chased the Orga and with his already griveous wounds took him down to a critical level but let him run out of their site. Now I was greatly angered and swore that he would taste my blade and I ran him down and started attacking him as he stood there. Then he turned around as if to tell me to run. I considered it but I made my choice and decided to live with it. He attacked me once mortally wounding me and paused to let me run again but I did not. Then he killed me. Soon after my friends came and killed him. This is a warning the Orga aren't as they were once believe to be. Some are nice, some are not, some are both. G'luck all.
        That is the end of my story. Note to you Braveheart, that Orga was most likely controlled by Xusi but that is completly OOC so I left it out and it's a matter of spectulation too....


Title: Orga's and their magic
Source: The Fifth day of The 8th month
Author: Baerwizz

        Friends, there is gathering danger greater than we ever presumed. The orga shamans, Using there "healing" magic as cover have been long working on spells of teleportation and invincibility. They have now completed there evil incantations and have several invincible warleaders and warlords who have the ability to call upon any orga that they might wish, and use the Shamans magic for teleportation of victims. I, spurred on by crys of death, went to the rescue of several outside the camp, but, alas what should my wearied eyes behold but a berzerk and warriors filing in from the camp by the hundred! after running to the safety of the meadow, I returned and ran immediately to the path that leads up to the camp. several others lay dead or hurt and, with help from one other, healed them till we could prepare for a reconnesiance raid against the camp. when I entered several others where  dead near the entrance and others engaging the vile Death Vermine i slipped past and started my recon. after noting the large Orga war party, Which later over took me, i noticed a peculiar glowing orga, similar in garb to the orga shaman. after all where dead most departed but those of us that stayed, Among them I,Baerwizz, Sindel, Spurred, and another who i was not familiar with, Observed the strange manner of orga cooking techniques. they moved us to there strange ring of fires and let us sit, the glowing orga observed earlier engaging us in conversation. He was politer than most of his kind ( he was no diplomat but an improvement over most) and even posed for a sketch. then they ate us. our remaining carcasses where placed in the Crystal temple until some kind healer noticed us. later an orga spy, also blessed with invulnerability and teleportation, was seen lurking about puddleby. This i beleive is going to lead to a major invasion. just a warning from a lowly healer. P.S. DO NOT i repeat DO NOT repeat anything an orga warlord or warleader says. i was making fun of the orga and said something the warlord had said backwards and immediately an orga fury appeared in front of me. beware of doing so in places such as town.
Your humble orga chow

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