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October 24, 605

“What’s the difference between Viscus Iceheart and the ship he rode in on?”

“One’s a rotting, hulking, ugly piece of junk full of undead seamen, and the other one is the ship he rode in on.”

-Clanegdin Alehammer of the Stonewood Dwarves

Welcome to Meddlar! (anybody got a donut?)

   The weather in the newly-named Scarletton is dreary and dismal, with misty rains coating everything in a fine sheen of wet.  An enormous number of adventurers have turned out for this gather, filling the streets with a bustling atmosphere.  Most of the houses are full to bursting with visitors, leaving top space at a premium.  The newly appointed good Baron Turiel arrives late, after purifying some of his land from the undead scourge, but arrives well and in-style. 

Rumours, mostly true

The following rumours were gleaned from a traveling dwarf named Graven:

            * Pirates have been burying undead and treasure

                        This rumour was proved true and false – two treasure maps were found, and both had directions to dig up many many leviathans, yet little or no treasure was found.  Very funny, Viscus.

            * A man with runes on his face had been seen lurking in the deathlands.

                        It is unknown whether this was true or not.

            * The dark elves are starting a war with the “upworlders,” and Scarletton is to be their first topside stronghold.

                        The dark elves denied this vehemently – and believably.  It would seem unlikely that dark elves would voluntarily create a living space topside.

            * Commodore Viscus is weak on the full moon

                        Also unknown, as it was not a full moon this rumour could not be tested.  However, it is known that Viscus, unlike many liches, does not have a bottle, and therefore, if he could ever be caught, would be a one-hit kill.  This may have actually contributed to his longevity, since, having more to lose, he is possibly much more cautious and cunning than your average lich.

            * There are evil elementals roaming around who want to kill all they see.

                        When is this ever not true?

            * There is a faceless man out to kill people

                        True.  More on the bogeyman later.

            * The duke put Baron Turiel into Meddlar in order to have Viscus kill him.

                        Hopefully resoundingly false.

            * Commodore Viscus is spying for the duke, using his undead and others as spies – why else has he not marched on the town?

                        Since he did march on the town – in a nasty and bloody battle – perhaps we can assume this is false.

            * There are ghosts following an undead mummy.

                        If so, it was not reported having been seen.

            * The Pirate Lich once worked for Mysh Tal Rae (or however you spell that anymore)

                        Not proven true or false – and who’s going to ask either of them?

How do you make a tissue dance?  Put a little bogey in it…

The appearance of the faceless entity folks were calling the Boogeyman caused many a fright and scare.  He entered cabins through the Wards and hid in closets, banging until someone came to investigate and then popped out and cast Arcane Fear on all nearby.  The second of these incidents happened in the gypsies' cabin.  The Boogeyman was seen entering the cabin in time to warn the Blackbirds.  They found him in an upstairs bedroom closet and attacked him with several different types of attacks, but none affected him because he was non-corporeal.  During this first battle he cast Arcane Fear only but later he also cast Wither and Taint Blood.  During the gather many theories erupted of how to avoid or affect him.  One person's theory was to sing him a song, another's was to show no fear and instead hug him, and another's was to hide under a blanket; his reasoning being that that is the traditional way to avoid monsters in the closet.  When the hug theory was tested the person's limbs were withered before he could complete the hug.  A direct account of the blanket theory was heard, and the person hiding was not attacked, despite being very close to the Boogeyman.  In many cases, people without weapons, people showing no fear or people who simply walked away were not attacked.  All in all, most puzzling and frightening, to the degree that many adventurers found themselves sleeping only fitfully in fear of the thing in their closet.

A brain seeking zombies?

            A brain in a jar, found by youngling adventurer Flame, was seen in town, calling himself The Eternal.  That’s right, it spoke, in a sense, though no voice was actually heard, everyone knew what it was “saying” in their minds.  The thing seemed very self-assured of its own importance in the grand scheme of things, yet refused to give details about his person or where the rest of him went, and is perhaps a creature to be watched for in the future.

Oh, noble niman!

            Early on the first evening, Baron Turiel was graced with a visit by a nimanese noble by the name of Lord Perrin Warsoval, sent on a diplomatic mission by Baron Vladimir Post of Niman.  He had brought with him a large, compressed ball of air, known as a force elemental, which the Baron made sure was tied securely outside the baronial manor.  Baron Post had received a letter from the previous baroness, and had sent Lord Perrin to investigate.  They discussed a few things, such as the liches propensity to salt the earth, when the Baron seemed to remember himself and asked Lord Perrin for his writ.  Lord Perrin shot back quickly, asking to see the baron’s writ, at which point Baron Turiel summoned his newly-appointed squire, Squire Mordock, to produce the copies of those writs.  Due to some communication error, or perhaps solely that Baron Turiel has a lot of work to get his squire into squirely shape, Squire Mordock had failed to make copies of the writs, and such it was that the Baron had no proof with him of his own authenticity.  Thus the issue of the writs was summarily dropped, without either party producing any at all.  They proceeded to discuss old matters, such as the once prolific brood problem that had occurred in Meddlar, which the Baron assured the nimani noble that did not exist anymore (much to his surprise later was it that the brood was, indeed, a problem still)..  Also, the noble asked for the right to deal with any criminal element he should encounter, should he be attacked in the streets (and a marvel that he wasn’t for relations with Niman are tenuous at best, considering that their slaving and undead practices are illegal within Elysia).

            As to the force elemental tied up outside the manor, such had been captured and enslaved, and Lord Perrin had brought it as a gift in order for the town to practice killing it, since at the time it was not known how to dispense with one.

That’s the spirit!

            October is the month for hauntings, it would seem, and no place more haunted than this past gather.  Spirits of every sort, from young and sweet to old, hoary and evil.  Some examples of spirits:  A few gypsies were so possessed as to be compelled to play twister with Clanger of the stonewood dwarves, for some unfathomable reason, unknown even to Clanger himself.  A young child possessed Ash, and the spirit’s sister possessed a new adventurer by the name of Corea, and together they sought out their mother.  Though the spirit of their mother was in fact a horrible banshee, the spirit children were delighted to find her, and managed to quell the banshee’s screams as they all vanished together.  Robin was also subject to some spirits, one that of a tavern wench who danced for coin (it is said that Markus managed to take some magic moving pictures of this event), and the second tending towards the dark and the macabre, a spirit who forced Robin to hurt herslef until she passed out from the pain.  She awoke to find the spirit gone, along with one of her horns.  It is unknown if and when it will grow back.  Yet another adventurer found himself possessed by an evil spirit, a captain, which demanded his own boat.  After being escorted to the water, he found the provisions unsatisfactory and turned on Captain Jalini, felling her quickly.  Guildmaster Kymri found himself in a state of fury, since so many of these spirit problems somehow ended up in the guilds’ lap.  All in all, though full of adventure and curiousity, the spirits ran the gamut and ran circles around the poor, weary adventurers.

Be vewy vewy quiet, I’m hunting treasure

            At least two treasure maps were uncovered this last gather, one of which was sold to Captain Jalini, who found it to be a treasure map to more or less nothing at all.  Whatever was buried was obviously of so little value that she simply gave up in disgust.  The second map, purchased from a goblin named General Girard, yielded no treasure but lots of buried corpses, thus proving one of the rumours given by Graven  to be true.  The small group who chose to explore every mark on that map only found leviathan after leviathan, and though out of dogged greed they never gave up hope of uncovering something useful, all they uncovered was a string of difficult and tiring battles.  It was well into the morning before every X had been discovered and the group retired with naught to show for their efforts.

The misadventures of the general goblin

            Traveling through town, selling soggy, nasty mouldy papers he had fished from the lake, came a goblin, General Girard, a leader of goblin troops that had been cruelly cut down by a scavenger and his dwarven friends.  Amongst those papers fished from the lake were several interesting pieces of information, letters to and from Viscus and other various mysterious figures (such as the hitherto unknown Dr Kattaver), a treasure map, a rejection notice to Viscus that his Ghouls Gone Wild subscription was to be cancelled due to being paid in illegal tender, and other various sundries.  This goblin, himself, though was looking for a sign; no, not a signal from the Fates of what he should do with his life, but the sign for his village, one labeled Goblin Gulch.  He claimed the elephant scavenger had stolen it, and for its return was willing to trade a shovel (a useful item given the proliferation of supposedly buried treasure in the area). 

            Sometime later that elephant scavenger made his appearance (one by the name of Titus), and with him he carried the sign, but demanded a wyvern egg as payment for its return.  The adventurers, had considered simply incapacitating Titus and taking what belonged to the general, yet decided instead to be obliging.  After a long trek through the woods, they were passed up by a screaming band of goblins, with one goblin shaman holding an egg nestled under his arm.  The reason for their flight soon became apparent, as a wyvern floated past, hunting down its stolen egg.  Seeing no need to deal with the wyvern directly, the adventurers simply chased down the goblins, stealing the egg and bolting back to town, leaving the Johnny-come-lately adventurers to deal with the wyvern.  Further deliberations on ways to acquire the egg were abandoned as a few of the group realized caring for a wyvern would likely be more trouble than its worth, they gave Titus his egg, who gave them the sign, which was carried around for the rest of the day, waiting for the general to come claim it.

What color is a dark elf when the color leaves her face?

After many a chase and battle, a small group of common adventurers managed to return the Goblin Gulch sign to the goblin general, who kindly led them to his caves in order to retrieve the shovel.  After battling nasty goblin hordes who had invaded his cavern (a opposing warring tribe, the general said), the adventurers eventually breached into the general’s personal cavern to retrieve the sword.  They considered settling in for tea and cookies, when a strange chittering noise filled the cavern, and out from crevice and crack came an unsettling sight:  Creepy-crawly brood advanced on the adventurers, swinging their claws and paralyzing what they could hit.  Many of the group fled, but a fox scavenger by the name of Kyrsa was quickly felled.  Those that fled brought back with them, surprisingly, a contingent of dark elves, who managed to rescue and heal the fox scavenger before even realizing what they faced.  It was only when one of the original group told the elves they had been beset by lanky bugs that made a strange chittering noise (at which point she did a fair imitation of such a noise) that the dark elves turned tail and fled.  Shimpan Tenuviel said it pointedly, “These are Darien’s lands, and this is Darien’s problem.”  Speeding their progress was the appearance of an ugly, beardless dwarf in his smithing leathers, wielding mightily an axe nearly out of proportion with his figure.  He first killed General Girard, as goblins and dwarves heartily dislike each other it would seem, and then as brood began to pour into the cave he defended the exit valiantly as each and every adventurer showed his or her true color and bolted out the door, and though the fight was likely amazing to watch, no one stayed to support him.  It is unknown what precisely happened to that dwarf, but if his spirit moved on, may it rest in peace.

Commodore Viscus Iceheart places the blame for this infestation of brood squarely on the good baron’s shoulders.  He claims that it was Baron Turiel’s purifying of the land that gave the brood a place to breed, and a viable life deep within the now-fertile earth and the soon-healthy livestock.  He stated that if the land had been left as he had it – doomed, vile, lifeless and cold – the brood would never have had a foothold.

The new baron, when questioned about his plans regarding the brood, had this to say:

      “Brood infestations are nothing to be trifled with.

        Our initial examination of the situation was that we

        did not have the necessary forces in place for an

        immediate solution, so we focused on containing the

        infestation.  Currently, Baronial troops are scouting

        to determine the scope of the threat and are in the

        process of containment.  Specific plans are being

        implemented to destroy the brood, but are classified

        at this time.  We are confident that we will, once

   again, be able to repulse this threat.”

Murderers, thieves, Barons and hoblings

            The hobling Pogo Styx and his newfound friend, Macaroon, daughter of toymaker Persimmon, approached the dark elf house, but apparently not cautiously enough.  Perhaps because of rumours that the panther ghast that had previously plagued the dark elves was somehow caused or summoned by this trite little hobling girl, when Pogo and Macaroon knocked on the dark elf door, in hopes of purchasing a cup of precious bean juice to ward off the chill of the night, they were immediately beset.  Macaroon was quickly paralyzed, and Pogo stepped back and only asked innocently what was going on, having no knowledge of any reason for such an attack.  Despite being clearly unarmed and unprepared, he was killed, and then brought back from that brink of death for questioning by the baron, who was within the dark elf house at the time.

            The baron was completely unable to determine any connection between Pogo or Macaroon and the panther ghast, and allowed them both to leave.  However, for Pogo’s discomfort at being assaulted, attacked, and killed for doing nothing, the good baron kindly refreshed his magic armor and shield magic, and sent him on his way.  It is possible that the baron was under the misconception that somehow Pogo had “started it,” or, as it were, attacked the dark elf first, but witnesses and Pogo himself both confirmed that his hands were in the air, and that he had stepped back and simply asked to know why his friend was being attacked. 

The pumpkin king and the Harvest Queen

            For their excellent work in the harvest ritual pumpkin carving contest, Kyrsa and Asheros were crowned harvest king and queen, and awarded the prize of gold, a crown, and a whole damn pie.  It is unknown whether the newly crowned “royalty” chose to share their pie with anyone else, but rest assured it was most likely delicious.

            Some hours before that, though, the pumpkin king was spotted in town, laughing it up in orange, but was most certainly struck down as a false ruler. 

Pogo Styx, defender of the pumpkin

            With the excellent work of several adventurers displayed beautifully outside the commoner cabin, the lure of pumpkins drew more than just awed onlookers.  Sneaky, nasty little kobolds tried to approach stealthily, but the sharp eyes of the hobling Pogo Styx kept them at bay, as he valiantly and stridently kept the pumpkins from being stolen and smashed by the vile little creatures.  All hail Pogo Styx, knight errant of pumpkin-keeping.

Baldours fence, and the title of Gatekeeper

            A dwarf, who had earlier announced the auctioning of Baldour’s fence, finally deigned to come to town, visiting each cabin to inform everyone that the auction would soon begin.  A small crowd gathered on the road in the encroaching darkness of evening, and the bidding began at a scant five gold.  It peaked at 57 gold, with Robin the Fair clearly in the lead, and it would seem that it would be sold to her for such a small sum, but the dwarf stalled long enough that a few more bidders joined.  The war began in earnest, and it reached the staggering sum of one hundred and sixty gold, for which it sold to Robin the Fair, and her two companions in this venture, Clanegdin Alehammer and Pogo Styx.  Because Robin paid the greater part of the sum, the fence will reside with her between gathers, but it will not be surprising to see it in the hands of either Clanger or Pogo, since Robin herself cannot wield a shield.

            “Honestly, I was just trying to drive up the price to make sure someone paid a proper amount of money for it.  Unfortunately, my plan backfired when the dark elves caught on, and that someone ended up being me.  Fortunately, I now have a sturdy little gate, should I ever care to build a quaint cottage around it.”  -Robin the Fair

            A rumour was heard that shortly after that dwarf received his 160 gold, he was cut down in a back alley by an unknown assailant, and likely everything of value was stolen from him, however, it is hard to say what actually occured because no sightings of him have been reported since.

We do not keep our hamsters in a force ball

            One of the gifts brought from Niman was a force elemental, captured and slaved to the will of the Nimani noble.  It was brought for inspection and experimentation, since the tough little buggers were difficult to kill.  Although very little besides magic blows affected it, pins were effective against holding it in place, and in fact they made an excellent road guard, as they would attack anything that came near (with damage that went straight through armor and crushed bone and blood), thus actually aiding adventurers when undead skeletons wandered too near the force elemental.

The most unusual undead…

            It seems that some liches will turn anything undead – very very late on the last night of the gather, a strange and peculiar pup was seen running through the woods.  Fearing a lost pet, some adventurers chased after it, only to find it a walking corpse, some mangy-mix-breed mutt that did little but lead everyone on a merry chase before it was caught and brought to heel.

Dr Kattaver and his island of misfit toys

            The hobling, Macaroon, in her joy at her newfound friends (mostly Pogo and whatever crew he had decided to join up with at that time), invited them all to return to some island in the lake and meet her father, Persimmon, the toymaker.  Her friends, trusting the sweet girl, agreed, and were boated across a river by a strange boatman.  The island they arrived at did contain Persimmon, but he had secured himself with the safety of a circle, as the rest of the island was infested with undead.  Not wanting to explore a place where they were so clearly outnumbered, Macaroon’s friends swiftly departed with a treasure map, and spent the rest of the evening digging in the dark, cold woods, and still feeling safer than they did on that creepy island.

A panther, aghast

            For unknown reasons (perhaps some dark elf cruelty, as it is rumoured that they had earlier destroyed an orphanage and killed every child inside) a panther ghast seeking dark elves was set upon the dark elf house.  The fighting spilled into the streets as the dark elves battled it valiantly, but possibly because of their secular world view, no other adventurers not of the dark elf persuasion sought to help them.  They did triumph, eventually, and while no one had to visit the circle, at least one or two dark elves were killed and barely saved in time.

That’s what we call a blanket beating

            In a brief moment of ingenuity, a few adventurers found themselves forced to throw a blanket on top of one of the many floating skulls that had plagued them all throughout the day.  This one had wandered in through an open door, and was bouncing around the inside of the commoner house.  A few people threw a blanket on it, thus vastly impairing its spell casting abilities, dragged it outside, and simply ran their swords through the blanket until the skull dissipated.

Trifecta of the iron forge

            Into town came a dwarf named Borch, who told adventurers of the undead within the fireforge that had killed his brother, and tortured him for two weeks.  He pleaded with the town to help him, and this is what they found:

            Hordes of icy undead had overtaken the fireforge, freezing the dwarves’ ability to make any decent sort of weapon or armor (as specifically noted by the sudden proliferation of nearly useless pieces of armor, and weapons adventurers found difficult to even give away for free).  Very nearly the entire town that had amassed for this gather went to the forge to drive off the undead, and after splitting into two teams, they managed to slaughter almost all of the nasty, icy creatures.  Yet, the forges needed re-lit, and to that end the dwarves again enlisted aide to traverse the trap-riddled dwarven caverns, first from the dark elves (who were recruited by some creature known only as The Eternal, who appeared as a brain floating in a jar of green liquid), who retrieved a fire crystal (and then refused to give it to the dwarves, demanding compensation in return), and then a second group traversed similar caverns in search of the second fire crystal, who, after handing over the crystal willingly, kindly, and happily (apparently feeling compensated enough by the strange proliferation of cookies, or “dwarf snax” throughout the maze), had the crystal returned to them after the dwarves had used it to relight the forges, and a third group released a fire elemental, who fully re-lit the fires.  Good luck to the dwarves on improving their production value, now that they have the means and the tools to do so.

Fool’s gold

            Prolifically throughout the gather was the appearance of gold dubloons, which were in no way any sort of legal money, but still made a fascinating discovery nonetheless.  A letter purchased from a leery dwarf stated that if 75 of the dubloons were returned to Commodore Viscus Iceheart, a great reward would be waiting.  As to who would trust a lich’s word, rumours of some adventurers considering the offer persisted, but there is yet to be any proof that anyone was able to actually visit Viscus upon his island.  However, with the gather finished, it would seem the opportunity has passed, and the dubloons are now little more than collectable trinkets.

Paid advertisement:  SMA seeks golden opportunity

            Single Mystic Adventurer seeks golden dubloons – These shiny pieces have strangely fascinated me, though useless as real currency I will gladly trade for them.  Please contact Robin the Fair, chef_jenny AT lycos DOT com, or simply come see me at the next gather in Elysia.

And the winner is:

    We recently sponsored a story-telling contest, and though all the submissions were hearty and fascinating tales, the story submitted by Papa Lanesh was deemed the winner.  His entry follows this report, after a special edition of an opinion column by Clanegdin Alehammer, which you may peruse at your leisure.  Congratulations, Papa Lanesh, and hopefully the prize from the good Baroness Tynare will be satisfying to you.

Special thanks on contributions to this issue go to:  Guest “Writer,” Clanegdin Alehammer, Papa Lanesh, Poisoned Thorn, Wren, Salamandar, and Leafy.

Questions?  Comments?  Please contact us at dedicatedrose AT yahoo DOT com.  We would love to hear from you.

If you, also, would like to place an advertisement, or have an opinion you’d like to share, please also contact us at the above named address.

THE DWARF’S GUIDE TO SCARLETTON

Dictated by:

Clanegdin “Clanger” Alehammer Bowerbane Chilox

            Master Smith of the Away from Stonewood Stonewood Dwarves

            Grand Master Wooer of Greyhorn

Scribed by:

Robin the Fair

(Editor’s note:  The language proved too difficult to translate.  If you are not proficient in the dwarven version of common, it is not recommended to try and read the following article.  Additionally, this is an opinion article, and reflects no one’s opinions but those of Clanegdin Alehammer).

Have ya ever been sittin’ in yer fav’rite chair, drinkin’ a good, stout ale, chattin’ with one o’ yer good friends who ye haven’t seen in a good long while?  That happened about three weeks ago when one o’ m’ old adventurin’ buddies, a fine hobling by the name o’ Pogo Styx, came a knockin’ at me door.  We sat, drank, an’ shot th’ shite about ol’ times an’ adventures past.  I ‘adn’t seen him fer about two years, th’ last time bein’ in Drackenhelm in Meddlar.  Since there was a gatherin’ approachin’, he suggested we travel together back to Meddlar.  “Sure,” I said, “why not?  Meddlar’s un’er new management, so how bad could it be?”

Let it be known, any time someone says “How bad could it be?” it’s gonna be bad.

So, we start headin’ off t’wards Scarleton, which was formerly Drackenhelm, which was formerly Scarleton.  Apparently, it’s a tradition in Meddlar t’ name, rename, then un-name towns.  When we got t’ Scarleton, we met up wit’ th’ good lady Robin, whom I’ve already ‘ad th’ pleasure o’ adventuring wit’, an’ two other adventurers, Marcus, who’s skill with a blade is only matched by is only matched by his magical aptitude, an’ Shenron Kefka, a fellow warrior who’s capable wit’ a bow an’ arrow.  Th’ weather was dreary an’ cold when we arrived, which matched th’ town perfectly, an’ stayed that way fer th’ entire gatherin’.  Aside from ourselves, ‘ere was Cade an’ his gypsies, who I hadn’t seen in a long while an’ I’m glad t’ see are in fine health.  No hooch, but it was good seein’ friendly faces, regardless.  An’ let me tell ya, ya ‘aven’t lived ‘til you’ve played Twister wit’ th’ gypsies, hoo boy.  In addition, there was Cap’n Jalini an’ th’ crew o’ the Abar… Adur… her ship, a house full o’ dark elves, an’ a good number o’ other adventurers who I ‘adn’t seen in a while.  Fairly good company if’n ya ask me.

Then, th’ “festivities” started.

If ya like “different” undead, Scarleton would’ve been th’ place fer you this past weekend.  We ‘ad fire skeletons, ice skeletons, lightning skeletons, zombie dwarves, zombie gnolls, zombie yippy dogs, zombie pirates who wanted to kill us, zombie pirates who wanted to apologize fer killin’ us, soft spoken spirits, possessin’ spirits, restless spirits, drinkin’ spirits, banshees t’ hug, disembodied floatin’ skulls, scare-happy bogeymen, leviathans buried in th’ sand, an’ a lich on th’ lake.  I swear, I had t’ boil me axe five times t’ get it completely clean from all th’ rottin’ flesh I cleaved into.  Though, if undead aren’t yer fancy, don’t worry, we had goblins, uppity kobolds, an’ th’ best of all: brood.  Yes folks, that’s right, brood.  Th’ acid filled bugs everybody loves t’ run from are nested only a few ‘undred feet from th’ town proper.  If ya plan on stoppin’ over in Scarleton fer a few days, I’d suggest bringin’ a good pair o’ runnin’ boots.  That or someone that’s slower than you are ya don’t really like.

Also, attention all murderers, killers, an’ slayers o’ th’ innocent, Scarleton is th’ place fer you!  Apparently, Baron Darien has rewritten some laws in yer favor.  Now, before I’m brought up on sedition, allow me t’ explain.  M’ good friend Pogo met an’ befriended a young hobling girl by th’ name o’ Macaroon.  Nice lass, daughter of a toy maker an’ cute as a button.  She wasn’t even old enough t’ raise a dagger t’ defend herself, which is why Pogo, always th’ good-hearted gentle-hobling, was escortin’ her around town in th’ absence o’ her father.  Now, fer some reason neither m’self nor Pogo are all tha’ sure on, th’ dark elves had it out fer Macaroon an’ her father.  This fact was unbeknownst t’ young Pogo.  However, th’ fact that th’ dark elves had a decent cup o’ coffee was knownst t’ young Pogo, so he an’ Macaroon knocked on their door in hopes o’ purchasin’ a drink.

Inside, the good Baron was discussin’ some matter wit’ th’ dark elves.  Upon seein’ th’ girl, Baron Darien ordered her t’ be seized, which th’ dark elves quickly complied wit’, paralyzin’ her with alchemical gases.  Pogo was told t’ back off, which he did.  Hands in th’ air an’ nowhere near ‘is weapons, Pogo asked what was goin’ on.  Then, he was cut down by one o’ th’ dark elves.  Now, I’m no expert on dark elven culture, but apparently if you ask “What’s going on?” it’s a sign of hostility.  For a people so bent on th’ tenets o’ honor, I’d think that you’d at least wait fer, oh I don’t know, a weapon t’ be drawn or a spell t’ be cast t’ indicate hostility.  Thankfully, Pogo was healed before he needed a Life spell.  In response t’ th’ attack, th’ Baron cast two protective spell upon young Pogo an’ sent him on his way.  Yep, that’s it, two o’ th’ most insignificant o’ spells.  Apparently, all you need t’ do T’ GET OFF SCOTT FREE FER KILLIN’ CHILDREN is simply ‘ave someone in authority cast some minor magics on th’ person ya killed.  Heh, if I’d ‘ave known about this clause, I’d found m’self a mage and began assaultin’ people ages ago.  However, I am a wee bit fuzzy on whether ‘r not ya have t’ be a dark elf t’ benefit from this new law, whether ‘r not th’ person needs t’ be alive when th’ spells are cast, an’ whether ‘r not ya c’n use other protective spells, such as “Bless” an’ “Shield”.  So, while dark elves can clearly utilize this law t’ its fullest degree, I encourage all other races not t’ try this new policy, as I’m sure th’ law is in it’s infancy an’ needs a bit o’ reworkin’.

A bit later, Macaroon emerged from th’ dark elven house an’ told us o’ what happened inside.  After they made Pogo leave, th’ dark elves, in all their honor an’ nobility, began discussin’ how they should torture th’ young girl.  Again, I’m no expert on dark elven culture, th’ only one I’ve ever really known was some arse named Shadowfel Evernight, so maybe this is an acceptable custom in their lands.  I’m quite sure that th’ “Dark Elven Book o’ Parenting” recommends at least one torture session by th’ age o’ 9, but I digress.  After the dark elves used their scare tactics on th’ poor lass, Baron placed her under th’ effects o’ a Confine spell an’ proceeded t’ have an impromptu trial, questioning her an’ apparently chargin’ her with th’ crime o’ being’ an innocent.  Exasperated due to th’ fact that th’ entire thing was ridiculous, th’ good Baron let her go.  Pogo an’ Macaroon found me and, along with our cabin-mates, we brought th’ child back t’ her father, realizin’ that perhaps Scarleton wasn’t exactly th’ safest place for her.  Again, why there was such a ruckus o’er a toy maker an’ his daughter is anyone’s guess.  I assume that with Viscus slippin’ through the Baron’s fingers, he needed someone else t’ paint as a criminal.

Speakin’ o’ Viscus, that undead sack o’ crap, he needs t’ quit bein’ such a damnable coward.  I come back t’ town after helpin’ out some fellow dwarves, which I’ll get int’ later, an’ I find out tha’ ‘Vicky’ skipped town without so much as showin’ his ugly, barnacle encrusted face.  Let m’ tell ya, I’m astoundin’ly impressed by someone who just releases wave after wave o’ undead upon a town wit’out at least showin’ up t’ watch.  It must take such a genius intellect t’ think o’ THAT plan.  Maybe after he’s got tha’ one down, he can work on a more sophisticated plan, like, oh I dunno, hittin’ us with a really big rock.  Now that would be a plan tha’ truly showcased his cunnin’.  Oh, an’ in case ya didn’t realize, tha’ was sarcasm.  Though, in a truly odd turn o’ events, I met Viscus’s “mighty” Death Knight, Arden.  If ya don’t know who Arden was, jus’ ask anyone in th’ Healer’s Guild an’ they’ll tell ya; he’s tall, soft spoken, ‘as a quiet demeanor.  He’s most easily recognized as th’ undead pirate who apologized fer killin’ us innocent people an’ told us he couldn’t stand bein’ a pirate under th’ command o’ such an evil schmuck like Viscus.  Is it jus’ me, or c’n anyone else smell a mutiny a brewin’?  Regardless, I hope that bucket o’ scuz sinks t’ th’ bottom o’ whate’er body o’ water he’s floatin’ on, that bilge suckin’ arse.  I don’t even know what bilge is, but I’m pretty sure ‘at Viscus sucks it. 

Ahem, pardon m’ digression.  Now, where was I?  Oh yes.  Scarleton, despite it’s glarin’ problems, did ‘ave a bit o’ a bright spot; the dwarves o’ the Ironfist Forge are only a wee bit away from town, which meant I had plenty o’ good conversation wit’ some fellow craftsmen.  We cleared out a few o’ their forges an’ helped t’ relight them usin’ th’ magical fire crystals we found.  Nearly simultaneously, two groups went in search o’ th’ two fire crystals; a group o’ younger, less seasoned adventurers and a group o’ dark elves.  When we went in search o’ th’ crystals, we braved a trap laden dwarven tomb an’ eventually found th’ fire crystal in question.  We readily handed it o’er t’ th’ dwarves who relit th’ roarin’ flames o’ their Fire Forge, seein’ as how only th’ most crass, tactless, an’ rude sort o’ person would’ve tried t’ keep th’ fire crystal fer ‘emselves considerin’ how they were rightfully belongin’ to th’ dwarves in th’ first place.  We were thanked by Tairn Longbeard on behalf o’ th’ dwarves o’ th’ Fire Forge an’ received some beautiful dwarf-crafted arms an’ armor as our reward.

All thing considered, Scarleton isn’t a TRULY ‘orrible place.  Yeah, it plays host to throngs o’ vile undead, war-like goblins, an’ o’ course th’ brood, but on th’ bright side there’s… uh… umm… Ya know come t’ think o’ it, Scarleton sucks.  I highly suggest any an’ every livin’, sentient creature pack up an’ move as far away from Scarleton or Drackenhicky or whatever it’ll be called tomorrow as possible.  Trust me, it’s fer yer own good.

 - Clanger Alehammer

Oh, an’ if anyone needs t’ reach me, whether it be fer praise ‘r fer death-threats, ya can reach me by sendin’ a missive t’ m’ spacious Stonewood villa; SprAmazd(at)Yahoo(dot)com. 

Editor's note:  We have enabled comments for this opinion article, so you may add your own opinion of Clanegdin Alehammer's experience.

Bonifica,

Here ist a story dat actually took place years ago in Leesebaum.  Belle an Erewan were members oft de aken Woodt from Cromley.  Oft course, de part about de star ist chust to make de story a bit more fun.  Dis ist a copy dat some scribe wrote down one time I was to tell de story, but it isn't de way dat I am to write.  Darn Gadje!

Bonifica,

Lanesh Kaner

DOME

                                           Merrick, Star of Wishes.

In the cold of winter, when the snow covers the earth so that it might hatch a spring, people come together to keep each other company and to keep each other warm.  To keep each other warm they share their feasts and fires; to keep each other company, they share their stories.

On a night so cold that the snow grumbles under your feet, and the wind itself is frozen into place, and even the moon stays close to the sun to keep warm; if you venture from the warmth of  the hearth and dare the peril of the cold, you may be treated to the most wonderful gift.  For it is on these nights that the stars (who are not afraid of the cold at all) gather together to hold a "Shining Contest."  And so it is that each of them puff themselves up, and push, and grunt, and groan until their cheeks are as hot as a white fire.  And then they shine.  So it is on these nights, you can see stars that you never thought were there at all.  And looking up at them, you can't help marvelling and thinking that they're doing it all just for you.

Oh, you say, you didn't know that stars had shining contests, and talked to each other, and that they sleep when the sun comes out, and when they sleep, like you and me, they dream.  And what does a star dream?  And what could make the dreams come true?  Because, if you're a star, you can't just wish upon a star like everyone else does, it doesn't work for them like it worksfor you and me.  No, stars have a different way in which their dreams come true.  And here is that tale.

Her name was Belle, and golden was her hair, like the first rays of the sun at the dawn of a beautiful  morning.  And so was her sunrise into the small village of Stonewood.  Whenever she walked, it was as if Tyrra itself would move to breathe deep the fragrance of her loveliness.  In her hands she carried a bow, on her back a quiver of arrows, on her face, an expression of single-mindedness.  She had journeyed from her home in the Elven forests in search of the Elven lords of Cromley, the Brotherhood of the Oaken Wood.

She had heard of their deeds of bravery and valor and sought to first learn from them, and then perhaps in time, to be proven worthy enough to join them.  And so she set about the task of proving herself.

Perhaps it was harder for one blessed with beauty, for a man can  overlook many faults when he thinks from his heart and not his head.  And Belle was proud.  So she threw herself into her training, seeking to be accepted for what she could do rather than how she looked.  Belle watched the masters of the Oaken Wood, noticing the style and grace with which they fought.  She studied their battle strategies, the way they worked together.  One thing she knew they lacked, the ability to engage their foes from a distance.

Thus she proved her point in the first skirmish they faced together. Straight was her aim and powerful the strikes from her arrows that many beasts fell before the proud warriors had chance to swing a blade.  It

Was then that Belle knew she'd have a place in the Brotherhood.  She had got their attention.

One day, not long after she had entered Stonewood, there was talk of a Wyrmm that plagued a nearby village.  Belle chose to accompany a band of adventurers in search of the Wyrmm in order to destroy it.  But, somehow they had gotten lost along the way and found themselves in a strange land with strange smells and strange powers.  Their path led them to what seemed to be an invisible door; all could see on the other side but there was no way to get through.

"I will let you enter if one of you plays my game." came a voice.  They looked around but there was no one to be found.  "I will let you enter if one of you plays my game."  "Speak of this game." responded Belle, 

"What game is it that you seek to play?"

It was a word game, and she would be the one to play.  The stakes were simple to understand.  If Belle won the game, all would be allowed to progress, however, if she lost, they all would get through the barrier,

But Belle would lose her soul.  Now I must remind you of the seriousness of the wager.  For when a person's soul has been taken from them, there is no will for the spirit to journey back to the land of the living.  To lose your soul is to give up hope of resurrection.  For any one, this is a sober thought, but for an Elf whose way it is to live a long and complete life, it is more than a sacrifice it is almost sacrilege.

The game was simple, name an animal that would defeat the one chosen by your opponent.  "Ant" offered the voice.  "Wasp" countered Belle.  "Bird" spoke the voice.  "Cat" responded Belle.  "Dog"-"Wolf", "Bear-Lion",

"Sarr...Sarr" spoke the voice.  But Belle could not think, it was as if her mind was frozen in place, perhaps it was an enchantment, perhaps it was so unexpected.  "Sarr" boomed the voice.  "What defeats a Sarr?"  No answer.

The others looked in horror as the color in Belle's face began to fade, some shaking there heads in disbelief that she would loose.  Some quietly blessed their luck that it was not they who would loose their soul.  "Hah, your  soul is mine, elf-maiden.  You lose!  You may now all enter."

However, never did they find the Wyrmm, perhaps it was all a trick of the Infernal Creatures who sought to entertain themselves like a child with a toy.  And so it was that with luck they found their way back to

Stonewood and the relative safety of the village.  Quietly, Belle walked through the woods, alone, stunned in her grief, her heart bearing the sadness of her loss.  Perhaps she would just continue to walk into the woods like a man might simply walk into the ocean never to return.

But then it was that she learned the most important lesson of all:  she decided to seek help from others, she would not bear her grief alone.  A lesson so few learn.  She turned her steps toward the quarters of the

Brotherhood of the Oaken Wood.

When she came upon Sir Erevan, Knight of the Brotherhood, she bared her heart to him.  "Follow me." he said as he took her to a small circle of trees. They stepped inside and it was as if they were taken back to their Elven Homeland.  So beautiful was the place.  The moss hung down from the trees and glowed a soft green in the dark.  The smell of a thousand pine trees, and fresh rain, the sound of raindrops splatting against fat leaves, but never did one get wet.  It was as if each sense was raised to its fullest.

It was a place to make the heart happy.  At first it calmed her, but then she thought of what she would miss and her grief found its way once  again to her eyes.

Now I don't have to tell you what it does to a man to see a woman shed tears, especially a woman as beautiful as Belle.  And I don't have to tell you what it does to a man such as Sir Erevan to witness this.  He would relinquish his Knighthood, his wealth, even his honor, to remove a woman's pain.  Such is the way of a man whose head is so easily turned by a skirt.

They left the magic of the Elven Circle.  He knew what he would do.  Through the village they walked until they came to a big open field, they sat  down on the ground and looked up at the stars shining in the summer sky.

And so it was that Sir Erevan laden with sorrow for one of his own, his Oaken Wood - equal to equal; so it was that Sir Erevan in respect for one so skilled and brave, his fellow warrior - fighter to fighter; and so it was that Sir Erevan adoring the splendor of one so beautiful, his light - man to woman,  removed a pendant from around his neck.  Turning it in his hands, he looked into the sky and found a star, shining brighter than the others, then he spoke the words that would release the enchantment and release the only wish that it held.  His words were simple, "I wish for Belle to regain her soul."  A knight might call it duty, the thing expected, but a man may call it love, a gift given.  And so it was that a wish was made on a starry night in Elysia.

And so it was also that a star's wish had been granted as well.  Now we all know that the first person to wish on the first star of the night is granted the wish.  But the stars are different.  You see, the stars say among themselves that if you wish on the first act of love that is done after the sun sets, your wish will come true.   And so it was that when Sir Erevan wished upon the star, Merrick, there was another star, one barely seen in the sky, a star that always came in last at the shining contests, a star that may not have been so bright but was quicker than the rest, so it was that a star's wish was granted.  And somewhere in the sky behind Sir Erevan, a star fell quietly to the earth.  It was his wish to walk on the earth as a man.  And so my friends, if you happen someday upon a man whose cheeks glow white instead of red.  Tell him the tale of how love brought him to earth.

And there also fell from the sky, three Ravenholt gold, one for me, one for the storyteller, and one for the person who has entertained you.

Be it known that on Saturday, September 17, 605 the following noble changes were enacted for the Duchy of Elysia.

Baron Talorin Coreel of Simoondale has retired.

Baroness Ashley Alora Van Dier of Meddlar is reassigned as Baroness of Simoondale.

Lord Torin Redwolf Capelanus will continue to serve Baroness Alora in her new post.

Lord Darien Turiel is elevated to the position of Baron and is assigned to Meddlar.

Lady Tinare Van Sheldock is elevated to the position of Baroness and is assigned to Woodhaven.

Sir Ekhimo Galanodel is elevated to the position of Ducal Knight.

This is my will.

Kinnel Kohlmwyn

Duke of Elysia

September 18, 605

The gather of September:

     We arrive to again more beautiful weather (an eerie occurrence in its rarity, cherished but suspect), and marvelous expectations of the feast of the guildmaster of the celestial guild, Kymri Ramishk.  A spectacular number of people have come out for this long-awaited event, and the town is practically full to bursting on Friday night, with more expected to show up on Saturday morning.  Not only were adventurers there in numbers, but also in diversity, for in addition to our usual plethora of elves, humans, and scavengers, the Dark Elves turned out in no small numbers, and also noted was not only a stone elf (how rare!), but also the purple-hued distant cousins of our local mystic wood elves, two knights of deep mystic wood elf origin.

Some enchanted evening:

A horde of clockwork constructs poured forth from the woods, initially in a brutal onslaught of creaking, groans, and grinding gears.  The adventurers had difficulty banding together and creating effective formations, but this state was later remedied by the local nobility, and the clockworks were thoroughly disassembled.

Monkey in the middle:

A few of the younger adventurers were conscripted by a merchant to help drive off orc marauders so that his caravan would have safe passage (the less seasoned adventurers being either more expendable or cheaper to hire, it is guessed).  They performed both brilliantly and valiantly, as they came upon the orcs unmercifully teasing and taunting a kobold, who ran off into the woods when the adventurers broke up the orcs’ spite-party, only to return and effect run-by waylays to a few adventurers, who were knocked unconscious, but briefly.  However, the adventurers’ triumph was inevitable, and complete, and no one suffered a single loss of life or limb in the venture.

Origins:

A nervous, young, stuttering gentleman by the name of Master Taren gathered a group of adventurers (consisting notably of Mistress Ambra, Mistress Gwendolyn, Captain Jalini, and young Trvgr) to explore and clear out a complicated and ancient ruin that had a small and easily crushed infestation of clockworks.  Scattered across the floors of these ruins were scraps of papers gathered by the adventurers but unknown if ever assembled or what it contained.  Also embedded within these ruins was a multi-level cavern that descended deep into the earth.  On the very first tier of this cavern, the leader of the band (A brave elf whose name has been lost to the record), charged valiantly into the cave, only to set off an explosive trap that knocked him back and burned away everything flammable on his person (no note on whether he’d miss his potions or his eyebrows more).  Within this cave was a host of clockwork beasts gathered motionlessly around a corpse, until any adventurer tried to enter, at which point the clockworks moved aggressively.  The adventurers dismembered the machinery, only to find the corpse had died a rather permanent and irrevocable death.  Upon descending further into the cave, down a set of roughly carved and anciently worn steps, they encountered more clockwork constructs, a formidable force which this band found insurmountable in their current state, and the group fled back to town to regroup.

At this point, the good Baroness Tinare (not yet elevated to this position), took charge of a large group and eradicated the clockwork threat.  She managed this without the resurrection of a single adventurer, and she credited the support and teamwork of all the warriors she had with her to this feat.

Good Morning Feastgoers!

A day of festivities and joy, and all without the interruption of unplanned fighting or terrifying creatures (again, a moment of respite cherished but suspect).  The tourneys were fantastically entertaining, but there were far too many and far too much going on unfortunately to relay a play-by-play of each of them.  However, Master Kymri kindly posted the winners of each on the fae trees, a listing that we are choosing to re-print here:

3 touch

1st place:  Boots ( Arcannon)

2nd place:  Squire Lee

Caster

1st place: Baron Mikael

2nd place: Lord Zeal

3 on 3 shadow

1st place: Squire Ethir, Lord Zeal, and Baron Mikael

2nd place: Glenn Stormwolf, Sorin, and Zartax

Ring Challenge: Lord Zeal

Capture the flag

Won by Captain Decoy and his team

Decryption

1st place:  Celeste and Perion

2nd place:  Dancer

Table Dressing

Baroness Tinare's Woodhaven table

Scavenger Hunt

1st place: Ash and Flame

2nd place: Ambra and Gwendalyn

Congratulations all!

(As a side note, Baron Turiel also hosted a poker tourney.  For more information on the results of that tourney, please see the fae trees where it is posted)

And may we be blessed, every one:

The feast, oh to do justice to the feast.  All people turned out in their finest gear, a veritable parade of beautiful women and well-dressed men of every persuasion, only out-matched by the marvelousness and deliciousness of the food.  It truly was a fantastic tribute to Master Kymri and all his long years within Elysia.

Lost and not found:

Captain Jalini spent much of the day and the ensuing evening searching for the mighty Prince’s shield and code, a quest given to her by the kingdom knight Sir Talasar, lost by the Prince’s squire.  She met with no success, unfortunately.

“I’m a brownie!  I’m delicious!”

A comely and spritely young brownie hovered near the edges of town, dejected and droopy with a withered wing and a plea for help.  Though terminally shy, she encouraged a band of adventurers to follow her into the woods, into a garden slated to be tended to for the Green Man.  The brownie, one Mossyfern Greenglade, hoped to acquire greater fae status, but needed the garden cleared of some wicked trees and doombushes and other nightmarish plants.  Many people turned out to investigate, and being fully loaded with spells that were unused throughout the days festivities and feasting, they unleashed upon these terrifying creatures, obliterating them within minutes.  Especially handy were those with resistance to poisons, as these plants attacked the immune systems immediately.

The Final 9

Late into the night, the town fought an army of orcs of the Bloodfist Clan, numbering in the thousands. The majority of the town lived due to the valiant efforts of those being called the Final 9.  These brave warriors include Baroness Tinare of Woodhaven, Squire Lee, Kingdom Squire Mythrin Lightcage, Alatar of the Golden Unicorns, Ducal Lord Dathras, Baron Mikael of Adron, Ducal Knight Sir Ekhimo, and Shadow Dragons Toran and Gwendalen. This group helped take out a third of the army’s high ranking officers and held the front line, while others made their way to safety. However, wars are not fought without casualties. Lee, Mythrin, and Gwendalen died this day defending the lands that many call home.  Their actions are commendable, and though many were only doing their noble duties which they swore to fulfill, three of these nine are not of the peerage and deserve the same recognition for their loyalty to Woodhaven and Elysia.   And, cruelly, both Squire Lee and Squire Mythran were brutally robbed during the resurrection process.

People and Places:

Master Perion arrived in good form, sporting a fancy new gold star on his fae-mark, received in the glade of the Green Man for exemplary work.

One of the other resurrections to occur during this gather was sadly an unfortunate accident during the Capture the Flag game, whereupon one of the deep mystic wood elves forgot to lay on only pretend swings and swung much harder, accidentally killing one of the very young adventurers.

SPECIAL REPORT:  The burning question of the burning plague:

In March began the onslaught of the Burning Plague in its new mutated form, those infected by contact with the skull of an elven child including Squire Lee, Shimpan Tenuviel, Hanou, and Krossus.  Both Lee and Tenuviel had been infected by contact with a carrier of the disease, and because Krossus is a dwarf he does not feel the symptoms, but is still capable of spreading the disease as a carrier.  Though only those of elven descent are affected by the plague, anyone can be a carrier.  It seems that those resistant to poisons and disease are not affected by the plague, and that because it is transported possibly by touch but definitely by blood, many have taken to wearing gloves during their adventures to avoid capturing this ill disease.

In may, Squire Lee dealt with a fae, trading for a cure, but the fickle fae chose only to cure Squire Lee, instead of revealing a cure that could be used for all.  Hanou entered into a later stage of the plague called “Blood Rage,” where he was overcome with a desire for murder and destruction, and only through rampant killing could his lust be satiated and some semblance of sanity returned to him.  He was watched carefully by the shadow dragons, and harmed no one, but was harmed himself in a fierce battle on the porch, and upon his death Blasé aided him, bringing him to consciousness, but unfortunately infecting himself in the process. 

Baron Turiel (then Lord Turiel), upon seeing the terrors this plague could effect, issued a quarantine for all of Woodhaven and Cromley, and began investigations into the disease.  Baroness Tinare (then Lady Tinare) also sealed the Oaken Wood borders.

July:  In Adron, a contingent of undead harboured the infected skull of an elven child (see Those Things are Bad For You in the July issue of T.D.R.).  Baron Mikael, through contact with that skull, became a carrier of the disease, and all elves within five feet of the skull became ill for half an hour, at which point the feeling passed and they were found not to be infected.  Baron Mikael, through thorough washing, was also able to rid himself of the disease, thus emphasizing the need for proper hygiene during plague times such as these.

Shimpan Tenuviel encountered a life knight, and took it upon herself to discuss her condition.  Though the life knight could not provide a cure, he did confirm it was a mutated version of The Burning Plague, and that it is inevitably terminal.  Tenuviel has stated that since she has gone through the resurrection process, she is no longer infected.

Lastly, the hordes of orcish undead that poured through the adventurers at this most recent gather, led by a fierce and strong spirit that had risen from the tomb only to summon his army to destroy the town, had been heard shouting “Blood Rage!” as they rained screaming death down upon the adventurers.  Whether or not this is related to the Burning Plague as we (barely) know it is currently being investigated.

Special Thanks to members of the Fellowship of the Rose, including Leila Verde, Salamander, and Poisoned Thorn for their contributions.

                                       --,-‘-@ The Dedicated Rose @-‘-,---

dedicatedrose AT yahoo DOT com

We apologize for the brevity of the following report.  At this time, we cannot always assure the depth and accuracy of our information.  If you wish to add detail about the events of the last gather, you are welcome and encouraged to send missives to the above address.

Woodhaven at last:  Finally free of Adron, many adventurers find themselves relieved to be in the (nominally) safer barony of Woodhaven.  A beautiful weekend greets them, with only one severe shower late in the afternoon on the second day.  A full moon lights the night, keeping the fields bright with the silver-soft glow of reflected sunlight, shining down like the eye of a demon in the sky, keeping the paths bright so long as the clouds remained far on the horizon.

Moonhowlers:  Some occurrences of werewolves were seen throughout the nights, however it is unclear as to their purpose and nature, as if they were only there to illustrate the fullness and brightness of the silver moon.

It’s not easy being green:  The last gather was host to black trolls and some of the normal sort of goblins and trolls that we usually see at many gathers. Late in the second day, a horde of orcs had thieved some oaken elf babes, only to murder them in bloody sacrifice.  A group of adventurers came to the rescue, and managed to revive the tiny newborns, and obliterated the orc town.  The children were eventually safely returned from whence they came.

Are all farmers bad news?  A farmer did come in to town asking for help from younger, less seasoned adventurers (the general theory being that older adventurers would know better than to go anywhere near a farmer who is asking for help).  His vegetable garden had become quite overgrown and unruly, and it was up to the younger adventurers to tame the wild vegetables.  A carrot was brought into town for tasting, but was deemed quite bitter and unpalatable.

Tick-Tock winds the clock:  A lone adventurer was captured by some wayward clockwork beasts, who were followed to their lair before they turned on the would-be rescuers and nearly destroyed them.  However, a few brave souls escaped and returned with more help.  By the time back-up had arrived, that first captive had already been converted into a clock-work creature himself, yet he was shortly restored to full living and breathing function, as soon as the beasts of metal and magic were dismantled.