The Life Epic

The Seas of Dorme

2011-10-26T11:14:00.000-07:00

That evil mage of old, the Sleep Wizard, servant of Morpheus, the weaker brother of death, has cast his vile spell upon me. His chains of laziness have been tied to my body and drag me down deeply into the Ocean of Dorme where he seeks to drown me. I try to fight his incantations, but my body its weak and easily succumbs to his incantations.

Tonight, the Queen off Amazonia and I travel many miles over hills and valleys to the great city that is the end and yet not the end, to hear the minstrels of the Ancient One sing great songs of war and triumph. We will gather with many warriors such as ourselves and celebrate with much cheer. I will seek the aid of Caffeinus and the Dew of the Mountain to help fight the Sleep Wizard.

The Ceremony of Water

2011-10-23T11:36:00.000-07:00

Today, Tween the Outrageous, partook of the Ceremony of Water. She has proclaimed her allegiance to the Ancient One and has severed her ties with the Vile Lord of Lies and his ilk. She is charged to follow the Way and seek the Deeds of Righteousness. Like a butterfly that sheds it's cocoon, she throws off the the old dirty rags that so easily entangle and ensnare the warrior and now takes up the Burden of Light. Be salt, be light to a kingdom of darkness. Be the sweet perfume of life to the living, as well as to those that are persishing.

The Foreshadow of the Frost Giant

2011-10-19T13:09:00.000-07:00

The Frost Giants arrival is foreshadowed this cold day. He mocks the crown of the lordly sun Helios as he whips the winds with his fury and drives them into our lands. He beats the clouds with his mighty hammer until at last they bleed their rain. Mercilessly the trees are being shorn their golden garments, leaving them naked as the leaves flutter aimlessly around like weakened butterflies. Our once warm and gay hearts now grow grey like the darkening skies.

With this onslaught of coldness comes the Battle of Bulkage. As the icy chill robs us of our vigor, the comforting treats of Carbos dance before our feeble minds, tempting us with false offers of strength. The merchants of the land ring the deep golden bells to call the faithful to indulge in Carbos' sweetened wares. To partake of them, is to find oneself under his maddening spell. A spell that drives one crazy with a lustful desire for more of the treats. The more they eat, the stronger the spell, the stronger the spell, the more they eat. Soon they find themselves trapped in a soft luxuriant cocoon that saps the physical body as well as the will.

Tween the Outrageous has traversed the stone pathways on a magnificent beast of burden with the Goblin Hordes to a far away city to learn the ways of history. May the Ancient One grant them safe passage and ward off the spells of the Sick Witch.

The Extreme of the Two Kings

2011-10-07T12:59:00.000-07:00

The lordly sun Helios is making the journey to his kingdom in the Southern regions to rule over the people of bronzed skin. The Grand Dame of Fall has graced our lands with her regal presence, and with her she brings a much welcomed relief from the sweltering reign of Helios. Her visit is like that of a kind grandmother who lavishes gifts upon her grandchildren. But it is also a bittersweet reminder of the coming reign of the Frost Giant. The rumor of his arrival is whispered by the soft breezes through the shadowy trees.

The reign of one king brings the desires of the other, and it is a maddening circle to endure. If only we could forever lay our heads in the fragrant lap of the Maiden of Spring like a sleepy lover, or sit cozily against the bosom of the Grand Dame of Fall like babes so loved. There we would find the peace of our souls and escape the extreme of these two kings. But sometimes peace can be like a fruit that has fallen from the tree, that we chase longingly after as it rolls down the hill. Some days we are too weary to catch it, while other days only to eat it lustily with nothing left for hungrier moments.

The Wars of Vigilance

2011-09-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

For ages there has waged a war between the Elders and Youngers of our tribe. It seems that the burden of Selena does not weigh heavily upon their eyes, and the spells of the sleepmancer have little to no effect on the Dwarves of Distraction. Their will is strong, like that of a donkey. And like the donkey, their braying is heard much because of this lack of rest. They are diligent in tasks that bring no fruit, except to fog their mind and weigh down their limbs. The Belt of Pain is eager to taste their flesh and reward them for their disobedience, but they reap what they sow, and they sow restlessness.

Beautiful and Tender

2011-09-27T06:15:00.000-07:00

Her leaves are fallen,
The flowers faded;
The well of her youth,
Has been invaded.

The branches bent,
the will unbroken;
The coming of winter,
On the wind is spoken.

Pass us by like a Summer's storm,
That quickly chills our bones;
Steal not the comfort of our warmth,
take not the lyrics to our songs.

Deep within her roots,
Waiting for the spring;
Sing now the glory,
Of the coming King.

Bend but do not break,
Aid comes to the weak;
Look past the Winter,
to the Spring we all seek.

Pass sweet into the Summer's warmth,
That quickly heats our old bones;
Sheltered in comfort from the storm,
sing now the lyrics to your songs.

The Horn Blast of the Frost Giant

2011-09-09T11:31:00.000-07:00

The shadow of the Frost Giant falls across our land. In the distance the sound of his mighty horn proclaims his coming reign. Before him precedes the Grand Dame of Fall. Will her train be one rich with many colors, or barren and desolate?

The Dwarves of Distraction once again find themselves amongst the Goblin Hordes in the Halls of Learning. With their presence there, comes the horrible Fog of Sickness. They being young and bold, have fallen to it's spell. The Queen of Amazonia has also been stung by the fiery darts of the Sick Witch and has been waylaid for a time. I have fought along her side to restore her to her former glory.

Return to the Halls of Learning

2011-08-08T13:24:00.000-07:00

Today marks the day that Tjorn the Hypercrybarian and Tween the Outrageous once again embark to the Halls of Learning. It is their quest to obtain the scrolls of wisdom. The Queen of Amazonia rejoices for the peace she will receive from their absence. I pray that the Goblin Hordes will not summon the Sick Witch to cast her foul spell upon the two sojourners. The reign of Helios is waning and soon the grand Dame of Fall will return to our lands bathing it her earthly robes.

Slaughter in the Slave Camp

2011-07-25T18:56:00.000-07:00

As the lordly sun Helios began his slow trek across the barren sky, the Slave Lords unleashed their hellish hounds into the midst of the Slave Pit. Many of my fellow slaves were laid low in the slaughter, victim to the razor sharp teeth. Even the Axe Lord and the Lord of Chaos felt the sting of their venom and wander the halls no more. I stand only by the mercy of the Ancient One.

The Soft Winds of Gossip flutter through the camp like smoke over a battlefield. Those that survived huddle together to feel the warmth of each other in consolation. Some laugh in celebration of their survival, while others veil themselves in dust and ashes. The Dukes of Power drink deep the spiced wine of the Slave Lords, and proclaim their drunken love in slurred speech. Eagerly they step over the bodies of the fallen to stand in their place, seeking power like animals in heat. Good kings are not replaced, but instead rise to power.

Horn of the Frost Giant

2010-11-10T09:33:00.000-08:00

With a blast from the mighty horn of the Frost Giant, the land is bathed in the shadow of Winter. The Grand Dame of Fall has been stripped of her courtly golden robes, as the land is laid bare and gray. The lordly sun Helios has been banished into the far southern regions towards the homeland of the Queen of Amazonia, leaving us to find our own warmth by the fires. The cold days are short, and the dark nights are long. The once beautiful trees, clothed in emerald greens, now sit like skeletons, naked and watching over the land. Their shadows stretching across the hard barren fields like the bars of a prison. We await the coming of the Frost Giant, not with the joy of a returning king, but the fear of a conquering dictator.

Labyrinths of Maize

2010-10-24T20:07:00.001-07:00

Around the third meal of the day, we met at the Hall Joyous with a band of young warriors and their tribal leaders. Our group consisted of the Queen of Amazonia, Tween the Outrageous, Tjorn the Hypercrybarian, myself and a young blonde maiden. From there we traveled deep into the western regions of the mountains of Gorja seeking the Labyrinth of Maize. As our caravan slowly wound along the stone pathways of the hills, we came across a great bridge that had been washed away, and therefore leading us to a treacherous journey through winding trails. Along the way we sang a raucous song and ate of provisions from the Sammian Fields, prepared by the Queen of Amazonia. Some of our warriors got separated from our group, but were able to procure food and drink from one of the local taverns and join us once again. As night fell upon the the dusty lands, we gathered at the entrance to the Labyrinth with many of the young warriors from all around the surrounding regions, to test our skills. From the Labyrinth there came forth screams and sounds of revelry. Daringly we entered into it's ominous mouth and were swallowed up into it's lunacy. As we traversed the wicked pathways with our torches, Selena hung low in the night sky with a thin silken wrap of clouds about her. Our party dispersed as we tried to find the sacred markers along the winding paths. Madness was the king that ruled over that night, with chaos as it's queen. Finally we had to hack our way through the walls of the Labyrinth to find our way out. As the evening drew to a close, we raced our way back home across the stone pathways, leaving the sounds of madness, chaos and revelry far behind.

The Frost Giant's Battle Cry

2010-10-05T10:49:00.000-07:00

Like the rushing of mighty waters, coldness has descended upon our lands and seems to have snatched away the Grand Dame of Fall. Is this barrage the forerunner of the cold reign of the Frost Giant? He sits in his frozen fortress and cries out his chilling call to battle. He unfurls his snow white banner and flies it boldly. Will he once again terrorize our lands with his merciless rule of frost. May the warmth of our souls break his icy grip of tyranny!

Return to the Den of Thieves

2010-09-30T10:45:00.000-07:00

Weak and weary, I once again find myself returning to the den of thieves. This time I am summoned by them to the bargaining table of doom. The time to act is now! I am like a wolf caught in a trap, so I fight with reckless abandoned. A man that faces death can only gain his life. They are equiped with illogical spells and mirrors that distort the truth. Their money scales are fixed in their favor and their tongues cunningly drip with poisoned honey. I stand firm, for it is all I can do. May the Ancient One show favor on me this evening and give me victory. May he bring confusion to their camp and bend their knees before me to His glory. May I walk away with the better half of the bargain, may I walk in His victory.

Into the Den of Thieves

2010-09-24T09:45:00.000-07:00

The burdens of our abode has grown recently and I find myself having to procure another steed to help in the work. I will sojourn into the town of Bufjord, where I will scour the marketplaces and wrangle with the thieves to get a good deal on a steed. I pray that the wisdom and the favor of the ancient one will be mine.

The Fierce and Quick Terrapene

2010-09-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

While waiting for Tjorn the Hypercrybarian to return from the Halls of Learning, I heard a rustling in the bushes to the right of me. Then I saw it emerging, the fierce and quick Terrapene! Swiftly I was upon it and captured this elusive beast. But being a beast of intelligence, it was able to escape the cage in which it laid, and is now hidden deep in the thickets where I dare not go.

Low Spirit of Despair

2010-09-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

That great foe, the Low spirit of Despair, seeks out the down trodden and the high of spirit. It knows no mercy for men with money or men without. It cares not for your problems that plague you or your joys that bless you. It reaches out it's cold withered hand and lays it greedily upon your warm heart. Like a vampire it drains the life from it, plunging you into the Dark Lands where twilight rules. An eternal land of vague fogs and mists, where the sun is obscured by black clouds and neither shines the moon or stars. Like the blind, you wander the barren hillsides unaided in your quest, stumbling about looking for someone to guide you out. Some wander out to never return, others never leave, trapped in the bogs. Some find paths that take them out, only to return from time to time.

The Evil Deciever of Old has sent this enemy against our encampment. Tween the Outrageous and I are under it's spell, while the Queen of Amazonia bravely helps fight it. May the Ancient One break forth like the noon sun sending the shadows in flight.

The Riddle of Life

2010-09-20T06:29:00.001-07:00

The flesh is pierced by the sword, the sword is directed by the will, and the will is moved by the flesh. The sword can be broken, the will cannot. The will can change, the flesh cannot. The flesh can be tempted, the sword cannot.

A Day at Mule Camp

2010-09-20T06:29:00.000-07:00

Tjorn the Hypercrybarian and I mounted our faithful mare Petunia and raced the stone pathways to the city of Mule Camp. There we came upon an encampment of some beasts of burden. We saw gigantic creatures for carrying large spoils of war, beasts that tear with their teeth and dig the earth with mighty claws, red water spouting dragons as well as the mighty stallions the guardians of the land ride to protect its citizens.

After this we rode to the Archives of Mule Camp were we were able to procure many ancient texts of the elders. Some talk of the great beasts that roamed these lands long ago as well as other beasts of burdens. One manuscript tells tales of great warriors of long ago and their mighty heroic deeds.

Friends and Foes, Bringers of Joys and Woes

2010-09-13T06:12:00.000-07:00

A cold wind stirs through the Slave Pit this morn as Grumpkin the Six Foot Dwarf seems beset by the Mood Foul. Silence is his brother in this deep enchantment and a scowl adorns his face as if the gods had molded it there. Now this dark cloud of gloom has spread it's vile cloak upon the rest of the Slave Pit as silence strangles the air with it's thick meaty hands. The spell from this Gloomancer has seeped into their minds and holds their souls deep within it's dungeoned pits. I try to break its power with the songs of mighty warriors and their heroic deeds of yore.

The war still wages on, and the length can wear worse on a man's soul than the actual toil of battle can. Weariness is our constant companion, tears our drink and pain our bread. There have been allies that have lifted our spirits, whose hearts are golden. There are also few whose hearts are black like ink, clouded by their own insane desires, who cast about seeds of doubt and fear. Some times my heart sinks from the weight of the siege. The arms grow weak, the legs buckle, the sword hangs heavy and the shield sits low. We wait for the hammer of the Ancient One to fall, to strike it's blow to our enemies, to deliver us from the onslaught of the wicked. It will come, but will we still be found standing?

Furious Forces of Evil

2010-09-09T09:43:00.000-07:00

Our enemies have aligned together in an unholy union of filth to attack our defenses and to bring down our stronghold. That hideous Sick Witch has weakened in power, but still torments Tween the Outrageous none-the-less. The Sick Witch's grip is tenacious like that of a hungry hound upon the bone, for she does not relent in her task. She has summoned the Fear Wraiths, and like vultures to the kill, they circle around us and let loose with their well aimed fiery arrows of anxiousness. The Goblin Hordes have set the Halls of Learning afire with sickness and have thus infected Tjorn the Hypercrybarian, making him falter in this battle as well. Like a great shield of defense, the Queen of Amazonia has guarded the fallen and tends to their needs. Teeah de Lowcah, the Portugeuse Maiden-of-War, has brought up from the deep southern regions a great relief to aid us in the attack. Her heart is a beacon of light in this storm darkened ocean.

Strength does not come from the sword or the shield, but from the will. May the Ancient One strengthen our wills and give us victory in this battle.

The Grand Dame of Fall

2010-09-07T12:41:00.000-07:00

The cool breeze quietly whispers her name, The Grand Dame of Fall. Silently her shadow precedes her arrival as the long days of summer recede into the deep. She caresses us with her soft touch, and quiets our panting. Like the cold hand of a mother on the forehead of a feverish child, her embrace refreshes us within her chilled arms. Her robes are gold and earthy in color and swath the land in pining hues for the sun. She adorns herself with the perfume of smoke and spice. The glory of old age and the youth of death, her presence trumpets the beginning of the end. Long held in the gloom of the North, the mighty winter howls and sends forth the thundering proclamations of his coming. Sadly she is his messenger and her going is as quick as her coming. Never the beauty of spring, the glory of summer, or the power of winter, she is the Grand Dame of Fall.

Fields of Wilshire

2010-09-04T19:26:00.001-07:00

The air is sweet with the cool tidings of the coming arrival of the Grand Dame of Fall. It proceeds her like the quiet hush of a crowd at the arrival of a king. Helios the Lordly Sun is slowly making his way into the southern regions, the home of the Queen of Amazonia, where he will gladly be received by the bronzed inhabitants of that land. The blanket of night finds itself falling across the land at an earlier hour and with it sweet relief from the heat.

While the morning was young, Tjorn the Hypercrybarian returned from his overnight sojourn with distant friends where much merriment was found. He was full of much talk of the adventures he had partaken and the rich delicacies in which he had eaten.

As the day waned, Tjorn the Hypercrybarian and I mounted our silver steed Petunia and raced across the stone pathways to the Fields of Wilshire. There we bravely traversed the troll trails in the Dark Forest. We came across many a place that would make the blood of mere men shiver like the prickling ice of a Frost Giant. But brave in heart and true in thought we set out through that foreboding landscape of shades and shadows. There we came across many a troll bridge and the traps laid by those lowly fiends. We smelled the sweet scent of their vile lures and came across discarded fairy swords. We crossed the bridge of the babbling brook, where men are enraptured to stay like those that feast on the lotus flowers. We also climbed the ancient stone steps of the giants, but did not see any of their massive forms. We finally emerged from the Dark Forest to arrive at the sunlit home of the fairies. There we strolled amongst the old ruins and saw the abode of the fairies. After resting there a moment, we quickly returned once again through the Dark Forest and past the Goblin Hordes to safely arrive at our patiently waiting steed Petunia. From there we rushed to our sweet abode among the flowers and rested from our escapades.

Fear Wraiths

2010-09-04T19:25:00.000-07:00

Mighty are the Fear Wraiths, conjurers of doubt and uncertainties. Through the ages they have perfected their black arts and wield their weapons well. Great are their powers of mind control and deceptive and deceiving suggestions. But their shadows fall farther than their reach and precede them long before their arrival. They are magicians and illusionists with no real abilities, except to lurk in the dark recesses of man's thoughts and sow their seeds of deceit. They prowl the night looking for their lonely victims, to lead them astray into the wastelands and to perish by their own hands. Strong are the ones who walk steadily the path of the Ancient One.

Attack of the Sick Witch

2010-09-03T09:37:00.000-07:00

That evil hag of old, the Sick Witch, has stretched forth her withered hand against the delicate Tween the Outrageous. Using her ancient and deep magic, the Sick Witch has poured her wrath and fury upon Tween, bringing her to her knees. Faithfully The Queen of Amazonia has fought valiantly along her side in this battle of wretchedness. The battle has not been easy and road is rough, but the Ancient One is with us.

The Goblin Hordes and the Mentors of Knowledge eagerly await her return to the Halls of Learning. Tween's heart yearns to regain her strength and walk the aged corridors once more. May the restoration be quick.

Breaking of the Ice Wizard's Spell

2010-08-31T11:45:00.000-07:00

As the lordly sun Helios moves towards the Southern regions, our days decrease in their abundance of light. A cool cloak of wind bathes the land, foretelling the arrival of the Grand Dame of Fall. Her golden trains will robe the land in her wondrous glory.

The magic of the Ice Wizards has been broken and the chill of the Slave Pit is replaced by the dank heat of the blacksmith's bellows. The task masters have conjured up great machines to relieve us of this oppressor, but they do little with much avail.

Cold Foul Winds of Battle

2010-08-30T10:50:00.000-07:00

A cold foul wind has blown in from the plains and upon it's tattered wings the wretched smell of battle. Storm clouds gather like generals, to darken the land with their rumbling threats of war. Vultures circle high above, greedily awaiting a grim outcome for their feast. All around us the enemy is encamped and readies the siege machines. These are great warriors of old. Ancient mongers of fear and hopelessness, who carry with them the seeds of doubt. They are preceded by the cries of the afflicted and weak in this land ravaged by famine. They reap what they did not sow, these lying thieves of deceit and trickery. We wait and hope in the deliverance of the Ancient One, our shield and strength.

The Giant Beasts of Burden

2010-08-28T11:43:00.000-07:00

As Helios the lordly sun arose from his darkened chamber and let his glorious radiance fill the void, Tjorn the Hypercrybarian and I journeyed forth from our abode amongst the flowery branches to the city of Mule Camp to see the wondrous and giant beasts of burden and their handlers. But alas we were too late and missed their encampment.

We decided to rest at the Fields of Wilshire near the dark forest. There we enjoyed our time with the activities of the Goblin Hordes. We later traversed the stone pathways to an outpost where we able to purchase many succulent delights, amongst them a rare orange Dew of the Mountain. Upon returning to our abode amongst the flowery branches we feasted upon our spoils and now I find sleep softly singing his sweet lulling melody into my tired ears.

Curse of the Sick Witch

2010-08-25T07:26:00.000-07:00

Once again that evil hag the Sick Witch has darkened our door with her foul shadow. The Dwarves of Distraction have fell under her spell from their contact with the Goblin Hordes in the Halls of Learning. Tjorn the Hypercrybarian, being of stout heart, has recovered quickly, but Tween the Outrageous, being of a delicate disposition has suffered a hard blow. May the Ancient One show kindness to her.

The Slave Pit also crawls with her vile bugs and many of the warriors there have felt the cold touch of her withered hand. Like a fog rolling in on a dark and gloomy morn, her spell blankets the environs. The Queen of Amazonia and I have also tasted of her poison but have fared well. The battle may be victorious but the war against the Sick Witch is never won.

This event heralds the coming of the Grand Dame of Fall and her robes of Golden Hues. She marches across the hills and her train leads the way for the Frost Giants return, that cold master of winter.

Triumph of the Ice Wizards

2010-08-24T05:03:00.000-07:00

The Ice Wizards have broken through the wall of heat with their craft of wizardry and the Slave Pit is once again a tolerable abode of enslavement. May the curse of heat be far from this wretched place and upon the heads of our enemies.

Weyland and the Ice Wizards

2010-08-23T12:40:00.000-07:00

The Task Masters had hired the services of Ice Wizards to lay a spell across the Slave Pit and bring us relief from the harsh billowing winds of Weyland. But alas, their enchantment has worn off and once again the furnaces burn forth with an ungodly passion, drawing out the very life of us slaves. We lay about like the the great cats of the plains that are engorged on fresh kill. Tiredness overtakes us like a thief in the deep of night. I have within my grasp the great chalice that holds the magical orbs of an Ice Wizard and with it, refreshment is mine.

With the waning of the lordly sun Helios, the Sick Witch once again has returned and casts her spell across these lands, hoping to ensnare it's citizens in her foul net. It travels on the backs of the Goblin Hordes and their nasty ways. I and Tjorn the Hypercrybarian have succumbed to her wiles and walk the halls like the undead. Rest has eluded my company and I now turn to the healing potions of the alchemists and the Dew of the Mountain. May the curses of Caffeinus not rob me of it's joy.

Curse of Weyland

2010-08-20T05:20:00.000-07:00

Our tongues cleave to the roofs of our mouths in the depths of these Slave Pits. We weary like lions at the noon of a Summer day. Hot sweat is our only consolation. The Task Masters ignore our cries of salvation and seem naught to care for our souls as they demand that the work be done. The bellows of Weyland blow harsh upon us as we toil in this excessive heat. He recklessly hammers upon the irons, working like a maddened bull stricken with passion and frothing at the mouth. Will the fires of his forge ever be quenched? The lordly sun Helios is merciless as he lashes the land with his molten whips, scarring the barren soil. The earth groans for relief from his oppressive show of power. Her flesh is dry and cracks as she pants like a dog. Some even pray to the Frost Giant to return to these lands and bring with him cool relief. But behold, the wonderous Queen of Amazonia brought forth a beautiful chalice laden with magical orbs of an Ice Wizard to help me with my toils this hellish day. May the Ancient One laden her with joy.

The Dark Days of Learning

2010-08-09T18:41:00.000-07:00

Once again the foul spirits besiege us with their tempestuous whirlwinds and cries like banshees out of hell. Sweet honey does not satiate their wild thirsts, neither does the bitter sting of punishment. Reason is beyond their grasp. insanity is their closest friend. We listen to their siren song and allow it to drag us to the rocks of our doom. May the wisdom of the Ancient One pierce the soul of the troublemaker and save us from their hands.

Daylight Fades

2010-08-05T08:31:00.000-07:00

Weariness has settled into the depths of my bones. The sword wavers in my weakening hand and my foothold stumbles. The daylight fades as the dusky haze blurs the friends from the enemies. The stars and moon are distant and cold and pale compared to the brightness of the sun. The song of victory has long since faded from the battlefield and is a distant echo that taunts like the a song of the sirens. No man wants to fight battles, but fight he must or the battle will fight him.

Quest for the Magic Sack of Holding

2010-08-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

I, and Tween the Outrageous traversed the the busy marketplaces looking for the magic sack of holding. After much walking amongst the shopping dead, we were able to secure the magic sack of holding. Now I find myself tired from the constant barrage of the lordly sun Helio's daggers of heat. To feast and rest.

Storms of Blame

2010-07-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

The barbarian hordes of the Zombie Minions have summoned the Storms of Blame and cast them into the Slave Pits. The Lord of Chaos and the Axe Lord are riding the winds like banshees on the breath of hell. Fiery darts rain from the heavens as the inhabitants below run for cover. I stand firm like the ancient oaks and wield the sword of truth.

The Second Conquest of the Helen Mountains

2010-07-24T07:08:00.000-07:00

Once again we trekked to the Helen Mountains and rafted the river with a great throng of people. Tween the Outrageous was free to traverse the cold waters of her own will, and therefore was full of mirth. I was mercilessly shackled to the Tjorn the Hypercrybarian, and thus endured much nonsensical babble. Even though the river was lower than previously, we were able to raft it with great success. Sadly, the Queen of Amazonia was overtaken by the strong power of the the lordly sun Helios and fell sick. Through rest, food and water, we were able to break his spell and thus restore her to her great beauty. We returned to the outpost where we were able to restock with delights from exotic lands. We ate of the spoils of the Sammian Fields as well as feasted at the Halls of the Golden Arches.

Six Cycles of Tjorn the Hypercrybarian

2010-07-23T05:38:00.000-07:00

This day we held high the noble birth of Tjorn the Hypercrybarian. Destroyer of Toys, Wielder of the High Pitch Voice and Holder of the Seven Hidden Excretions. Supreme Architect of Paper Objects and a Tapesmythe. Annoyer of his sister and Tearserker Extreme. For Six cycles this Dwarf of Distraction has walked these shadowed lands. There was much celebrations and great gifts were bestowed upon his mortal being.

The Fires of Vulcan

2010-07-21T06:22:00.000-07:00

The lordly sun Helios continues his relentless campaign of scorching our lands. He has unleashed his dogs, and their days rule over us. The Slave Pit burns like the fires of Vulcan as we melt before them like candles in the deep of night. Sometimes our only respite is the Iced Milk of Carbos, Lord of the Fat Ones. We pant for the return of the Frost Giant and his cold winds.

The Sleep Wizard has cast his enchantment upon my spirit and I walk his gray dusky labyrinths looking for the way out. I no longer partake of the Dew of the Mountain, so weakness is my companion. No matter where we walk, we suffer under the rule of tyrants.

He of Foul Breath, Halitrollsis

2010-06-15T07:41:00.000-07:00

Once again, the Lordly sun Helios has returned to the Northern Lands. As much as we sought his deliverance from the Frost Giant, he has wrapped us in his damp robes of heat and is mercilessly beating the land with his flaming sword. We wander about like dogs in a parched land, panting. If this was not enough, he of foul breath, Halitrollsis, has made the work in the Slave Pits even more unbearable. He banters with the wicked tongue of the evil one, and tries to make a man of himself from the scraps he cuts from others. But fear not, this only makes me cling to the words of the Ancient One more.

Grey Wizard of Persuas

2010-05-11T12:38:00.000-07:00

Once again the Grey Wizard of Persuas has infiltrated our camp. He tries to use his mind powers of beguilement to cast his fiery darts our way. But our defense comes from the Words of the Ancients, so we fear not and resist his onslaught. His words, to the weaker vessels, seduce them like the honeysuckle blooms on a warm summer day and they fall into his entrapment. Like minions of the undead, they are led by his deceiving talk and trickery, and follow him blindly. If he does not turn back, he will die in the mire of his spells.

Curse of the Axe Lord

2010-05-03T08:19:00.000-07:00

You turn brother upon brother and place them in your arena to battle for the sole survivor. Their tears run into the dust of the bread they eat. Their blood becomes the rust of the dead they beat. You slice to the bone to remove the fat and feed it to the pigs. Slowly you lead the people to the pit of their destruction with a smile upon your face. Soon the axe you wield, becomes a part of your being. It's cold roots grow deep and strangle your heart. Where you reign, selfishness and fear follow. You are poison for the cure.

Banish the King

2010-04-27T06:10:00.000-07:00

The bread is bitter, and the wine like salty tears. Hope is like a wilted flower at the height of the day. The shadows of my enemies have grown and are blocking out the light of the sun. Foreboding clouds of doom hang over the Slave Pit as the Axe Lord sharpens his blade. Laughter has been banished like an unwanted king from this kingdom, as the quiet sets in to rule the land. Still the whips lash our backs. Still the grindstone moves. I wonder if one day it will grind our bones into the dust of the earth, and the memories of these warriors be naught.

The Cauldron of Iced Milk

2010-03-09T05:41:00.000-08:00

My brother from the far away land of giants, sent to us a most magical cauldron. A cauldron capable of bringing forth the Iced Milk of Carbos, Lord of the Fat ones. Last night, with much anticipation from the Dwarves of Distraction, the Queen of Amazonia placed the ingredients into the frozen cauldron. We waited as it spun and groaned and quickly brought forth an abundance of the Iced Milk. All were satisfied.

Falls of Ruby

2010-03-07T20:02:00.000-08:00

The cold dark reign of the Frost Giant is weakening! The Lordly sun Helios is once again returning to the great northern realm on his golden chariot. The grey veil of winter is being burned by his warmth. There are also signs in the land that the Maiden of Spring will grace us with her green crown of life. Death is just a slumber until the true life begins.

The Queen of Amazonia, the Dwarves of Distraction and I, ventured to the Helen Mountains. We traversed the great land of the Unicoi to see the Falls of Ruby. After climbing the treacherous path, we gazed upon the majestic waters that ushered forth from the rocks. The Dwarves and I danced along the trails like dryads at play. On our return to our abode amongst the flowery branches, we stopped at the local outpost to stock up on delicacies from far away lands.

Fallen are the Mighty

2010-02-13T08:19:00.000-08:00

My heart is filled with remorse and sorrow, for a mighty warrior has fallen. Thor Snowkenshield, brought forth by my own hands through the magic of the Treasure of Snow, has fallen. Lord Helios, who's glory burns in the sky this day, has graced our lands in his battle with the mighty Frost Giant. Through his power, he has slain the once great Thor Snowkenshield. He is no more. He lies fallen upon the battle field, a casualty between two great forces. In his weakness, the Dwarves of Distraction have attacked him, and caused him much harm, spreading his body across the battlefield. I will now morn this loss of a great companion. May he be found in the halls of Dewhalla, to fight in the end in the battle of Dewmageddon.

The Treasure of Snow

2010-02-12T19:34:00.000-08:00

The Frost Giant has been defeated and his store houses have been opened. The Dwarves of Distraction were filled with joy and played like young colts in the summer fields. Even I partook of their merriment. From this magical treasure, we were able to bring forth the warrior known as "Thor Snowkenshield". And what a mighty warrior he is! Afterwards we were able to sit by the warm hearth of our abode and reflect on the day's adventure.

Prophets of Boreas

2010-02-11T08:41:00.000-08:00

The Prophets of Boreas have declared that we shall see the Treasure of Snow at the light of the morrow. They have been wrong before, and the Frost Giant does not bow before their words. Only the Ancient one controls the elements. Only before him does all the earth prostrate itself. The Dwarves of Distraction, as well as the Goblin Hordes that they fellowship with, would be much delighted to see the Treasure of Snow. And so we wait ...

Wicked Winds of the Frost Giant

2010-02-10T09:24:00.000-08:00

The Frost Giant is merciless in his war against our lands. He thrashes the bellows of the western winds, making them howl in fury at us. They crash against our abode and almost drive us mad with fright. Still no Treasure of Snow. The hearts hang low and are burdened by this cold display of power. But the days do grow longer, keeping the flame in our hearts burning for the warmth of Spring.

Two Kinds of Cold

2010-02-09T05:08:00.000-08:00

The hammer of the Frost Giant once again falls on the land, sending forth it's blasts of coldness. We retreat into our huts and gather about the Stone of Images as the gifts of Carbos dance tantalizingly before our eyes. When will the Maiden of Spring come, and bring with her Lord Helios upon his golden chariot? Our hearts grow found for her lush greeness.

The Axe Lord watches over the Slave Pit with his cold stare and a firm hold upon his axe. His eyes meet no ones and no one eyes meet his. The hood hides whether he smiles or not as he walks amongst the slaves. He holds a scale in his other hand, and measures the value of your deeds and time. But even the greatest heroes can fall weak and prey to his blade. Is he alive or is he a wraith sent from death himself, we do not know, but the Lords of Stupidia have summoned him to do their bidding, and do it he must.

Whether a messenger of the Frost Giant or the blade of the Axe Lord, most feel a coldness upon the back of their neck. Only the Princess of Stupidia, enraptured in a warm robe of self love, seems immune to the dark cold. But that warmth is like the warmth one feels from drinking Fire Water, it quickly fades and its wearer is found frozen from it's deception.

If the blade falls or if it is held, that is the command of the Ancient One. May his mercy be found upon my head. Once again I leave you with these words: Fear not, for the Axe Lord is a not a master of the axe, but a slave to it, and upon his neck, is the biggest axe of all.

The Spell of the Sick Witch

2010-02-04T07:04:00.000-08:00

Like hail falling from the heavens, the spell of the Sick Witch is hammering the lands. The Dwarves of Distraction are under it's curse, and are of the Mood Foul. Tjorn, the Hypercrybarian is wailing about like the woman of a fallen warrior. The Sick Witch has summoned forth Carbos, Lord of the Fat Ones, to play me one of his sweet melodies, so that I too may fall under her curse. By the power of the Ancient one, may I be albe to dodge her arrows.

The cold sting of the Frost Giant is still upon the land, but he has not rewarded us with any Treasure of Snow. My heart is starting to long for the soft green touch of the Maiden of Spring. May Lord Helios return to these forsaken lands.

Season's of Change

2010-01-22T05:32:00.000-08:00

Slowly the rule of the Frost Giant is waning as the Lordly Helios is making his way back into the Northern lands. Darkness once again, is being banished. The Battle of Bulkage is drawing to a close, and few were it's casualties. May the Queen of Spring come, bringing her bountiful gifts, and never return to the bondage of Winter.

The Reign of the Axe Lord

2010-01-20T04:38:00.000-08:00

The Lords of Chaos have summoned forth the Axe Lord to watch over the Slave Pit. A disquieting quiet has fallen over the land. Silently he walks the Slave Pits, his eyes dark and cold. Some feel the sting of the blade as it rests upon their necks. Others, such as the Princess of Stupidia, see only the backs of their eyelids. Fear not, for the Axe Lord is a not a master of the axe, but a slave to it. And upon his neck, is the biggest axe of all.

Hordes of Demonic Locust

2009-11-11T11:24:00.000-08:00

Like hordes of demonic locust, they swarm the Slave Pit with their strength in numbers. The Zombie Lords flood the pit with their incessant demands. My heads swims with their poison as I try to fight them off with the sword. I am weak. The Dew of the Mountain has aided me in my fight, but still I tire. My foot hold slip here, my grip loosens there. When will this end? I look to the end of this cold barren day, when I may once again find company with the Queen of Amazonia.

Hydratic Hellspawn

2009-11-04T08:02:00.000-08:00

The Hydratic Hellspawn has infiltrated the Slave Pit today. It rears it's ugly heads and smells of foul stench. For every head I chop off, more grow in it's place. It gnashes and gnaws at me and is trying to suck the life from my being. May my sword deeply carve it's being and send it back to the bowels of hell!

The Bogs of Sickness

2009-11-02T17:33:00.001-08:00

For days now I have traveled through the bogs of sickness. Heavy were my footsteps and unstable my way. Thickly the fog hung about me like curtains of greyness as shapes drifted in and out. The mud pulled at my boots and tried to slow me from my conquest. Cold breezes stir the air and on them are whispers of the coming Frost Giant. Slowly, these curtains are lifting and I can see the lordly sun Helios breaking through. Thanks be to the Ancient One for his strength.

The Fountain of Dew

2009-10-27T09:19:00.000-07:00

Of the time before the ancients, there was nothing. Out of this nothing arose the great mountain. One day while mining ice, the frost giant Pepsin brought forth the Dew by striking the mountain with his great axe. From the mountain, the Dew flowed rivers of green onto the great expanse of ice. For many centuries frost giants guarded the well, from which poured freely the Dew of the Mountain. This was the first Dew Age.

During a challenge of strength between the frost giants and the gods, Caffeinus accidentally drank of the Dew, and his eyes were opened. He then led a host of the gods in a great battle to take the mountain. This was the dawning of the second Dew age, where the gods drank freely of the Dew of the Mountain, replenishing their energy with it's sweet green nectar. In time though, the gods were driven with a greedy lust for the Dew and the right to it's power and waged war against each other. In his madness, Caffienus rose up with his great hammer and smashed the well, sending the Dew of the Mountain through out the universe. This time is now known as the Dark Ages of Dew. Where mere mortal men may stumble upon the Dew in their travels, and thus for a time, be given god like sustain. Caffienus outraged, called upon a curse to those who drink the Dew of the Mountain, that they may partake of some of the madness, jitters and headaches. This is known as "The Curse of Caffeinus".

Some say, that the Fountain of Dew still exists to this day, and that whoever finds it, will be rewarded with eternal strength. Many a man, driven by the madness of Caffienus, has quested for the source of this green gold, only to never return.

Others say that in the end, there will once more be a great battle between the gods and the frost giants for the Fountain of Dew. A battle that will last for ages and result in the destruction of the earth. This is known as the Dewmageddon. After this, will be the third and final Dew Age, where all will live in peace with the Ancient One and his warriors, feasting and drinking in Dewhalla.

So Returns the Specter of Sickness

2009-10-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

Once again the specter of sickness appears. I believe he is brought on by Tjorn the Hypercrybarian and his contact with the evil hordes of goblins. My sword hangs heavily in my hands as I try to fight this foe, but my judgment is clouded by his evil presence. I have drank of the Dew of the Mountain, but Caffeinus has failed me. I have abstained of Carbos' ill treats and aligned with the Sleep Wizard, but all to no avail. Tween the Outrageous and I seem to be the focus of his attack.

Even though the Frost Giant stands outside and bellows, the furnace burns hot in the Slave Pit, bringing a tired delirium to the workers. The Zombie Minions pour forth the work, like the water breaking a dam. These days move forward like a fat, drunk, lazy slug through cold mud. Oh to see the end!

I eagerly await the morrow's eve, where the Queen of Amazonia and I will travel to the great city that is the end and yet not the end, to hear the minstrels of the Ancient One sing great songs of war and triumph. We will gather with many warriors such as ourselves and celebrate with much cheer. May new friends be made!

Shadow of the Frost Giant

2009-10-15T07:08:00.000-07:00

The Frost Giant's shadow is slowly creeping across the land, forebearing his coming reign. May his ice hammer not strike this land heavy. With him comes the Sleep Wizard, servant of Morpheus, the weaker brother of death. The Bells of Carbos, Lord of the Fat Ones, can be heard echoing throughout the mountains and valleys, calling the faithful to worship at his altar. Soon the Battle of Bulkage will be upon us as we fight in the thick of war. The Queen of Amazonia and I are strong in our desire to win this battle and therefore will train much in the tactics of defense. May Carbos and his minions be damned!

Vultures of Doom

2009-10-14T05:21:00.000-07:00

The grey skies pour forth rain like the tears of a virgin widow, as the spectre of famine makes it way through these hollow lands. Vultures of doom circle high above the Slave Pit, their rumors precede them like shadows in the late hours of the day. The taskmasters are gearing up for a blood bath foretold in the whisper of the gossiping winds. Through all of this the Ancient One does not move. Fear does not even shadow his door post. Do we see the battle as an opportunity for death, or an opportunity for victory?

Labyrinth of the Sleep Wizard

2009-10-08T06:03:00.000-07:00

I have fallen into the labyrinths of the Sleep Wizard, that wicked enchanter of old. His spell is deep and the Dew of the Mountain is not strong enough to break it. Like the Zombie Minions, I walk about with dull eyes and clouded head. Fatigue is my brother as well as my enemy. Archers stand along the tops of the walls, waiting for me to stumble, and thus pin me to the floor with poisoned darts of sickness. May the Ancient One protect my foot steps.

The Enchantment of Grumpkin the Six Foot Dwarf

2009-10-08T05:21:00.000-07:00

Grumpkin the Six Foot Dwarf is of foul mood and temperament lately. He broods like a watchmen that sees moving shadows in the night where there are none. Grey rain soaked mornings have had more joy in them than his face. A graveyard on a winter's morn has more warmth. No fear, for I will sing songs of minstrels of the Ancient One to ward of his demonic enchantment. If that does not work, then I will cut him down like a kitchen maid cuts a boiled potato!

Come the King of Winter Must

2009-10-06T10:00:00.001-07:00

Grey misty morning,
that hangs in heavy sky;
brooding fall warning,
of the land soon to die.

Deeper into the south,
the sun makes it's journey;
no songs in bird's mouth,
or jousting lovers tourney.

Green gives way to brown,
as steel turns to rust;
the branches all hang down,
for come the king of winter must.

To golden memories cling,
and brave this misery's reign;
hear the whispers of spring,
for it will come to us again.

Request of Caffeinus

2009-10-05T10:51:00.000-07:00

O' Caffeinus, lord of strength and power, grant to me the ability to slay the mighty serpent Sleepnir, servant of the wicked Sleep Wizard, and he who coils himself around us and makes us lie down upon soft beds of Morpheus, the cold brother of Death. May your mighty elixir, the Dew of the Mountain, sustain my right hand in this battle against the forces of evil. Do not lay your curse upon me, may my head not swim and my hands not shake, may my speech not be fast and my mind race like the western winds. But instead, may it make my aim true like the Words of the Ancient. If you will not grant me these things Caffeinus, then may you be dragged to hell you trickster!

Ashes, Rust and Dust

2009-10-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

The blade weakens over time and steel looses it's glimmer,
Gold eventually fades and loses it's shine and shimmer;
On the day that ashes become your greatest treasure,
and rust is what becomes of all your earthly pleasures;
What will you rely on to take you across fields of sleep?

Minstrels of the Ancient One

2009-09-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

The Queen of Amazonia and I trekked many miles over hills and valleys, to hear minstrels of the Ancient One sing songs of mighty tales and deeds of glory. The Hammer of the Gods resounded loudly through the hall, and the cheers of many warriors could be heard. We braved the storms to bring with us the Sweet Biscuits of Carbos, as a reward for the minstrels and to celebrate the annual passing of one princesses birth.

The Gauntness of Lady Selena

2009-09-23T18:39:00.000-07:00

Lady Selena lies gaunt and thin on her black couch of night, but her pale radiance is even brighter. A cool breeze whispers her demise in the locks of the shadowy trees. She pines for her lordly lover, who is ever leading her on, around this shimmering pearl. It is his glory that she reflects. It is his lead that she follows. It is his attention that she desires. Soon she will be back to her queenly luminescence and ruling the night once more. Pride is what keeps lovers apart.

Torrents of the gods

2009-09-22T05:42:00.000-07:00

The torrents of the gods fall upon the earth like warriors on a battlefield. Overtaking the land and wreaking havoc. Nothing can stop these barbarian hordes from their destruction. The trees hang their limbs like those ashamed of their nakedness, and thus do nothing to protect the citizens. Velvet robes of greyness lay upon the sky, blanketing the land from the warming rays of the lordly sun, Helios. A single drop of water is weak and little, until it gathers with it's aquatic brothers and strengthens itself in numbers.

Foul Winds of Sickness

2009-09-16T06:05:00.000-07:00

A putrid spirit has taken control of the nether regions and is evident by it's Foul Winds of Sickness. Once again I have aligned myself with Carbos, Lord of the Fat Ones, to do battle against this oldest and malodorous of enemies. May the Ancient One have mercy on the Queen of Amazonia and I in this wretched battle.

Vultures on the Prowl

2009-09-13T09:32:00.001-07:00

The Fog of Sickness has taken it's toll upon my flesh. For a short while I have aligned with the Sleep Wizard to restore my strength. Many enemies that camp on the outer regions are slowly making their way in like vultures circling a dying prey. I cry out to the Ancient One for strength, wisdom and guidance. May self pity not drown out the sounds of help.

The Fall of the Towers

2009-09-11T06:50:00.000-07:00

On this day, the hand of a mighty sorcerer, under the influence of the Evil Deciever of Old, struck our mighty land, delivering a blow as well as a wake up call to all. Many brave warriors fought to save the the people under seige that day. Some fell on that battleground of flames and dust and many more have given their lives in retaliation, driven by the courage and conviction of a warrior.

Others, sons of the Zombie Lords, live in deceit, and believe that to serve the enemy, is the path to friendship. It is only the path to slavery. Victory is not achieved through offerings of appeasement. Only the weaker dog falls at the feet of the stronger and cowers like a comfortable palace woman.

May the people of this land never forget the ability of the Evil Deceiver of Old to raise up mighty sorcerers to do his bidding and the power that they can wield.

Falling Darts of Evil

2009-09-09T06:54:00.000-07:00

As the Fog of Sickness makes it way through our tattered camp, Tjorn the Hypercrybarian began this day's journey by going into a Tearserker fit, and thus incurring my wrath.

The Lords of Stupidia have descended upon the Slave Pit and are looking to cast their Spells of Blame. They ask the Riddles of Confusion to cause one to doubt their sanity and clarity, and to also elevate themselves to the level of a sage.

The Fog of Sickness has made my flesh weak and my head swims with it's thick poison, making my decisions difficult. Though the axe is familiar in my hand, on occasion it slips. May the Ancient One make my strokes more precise!

Tall Queen of Dumland of the Great White North

2009-09-05T11:36:00.000-07:00

The Tall Queen of Dumland of the Great White North unleashed the Unholy Dogs of Blame upon me yesterday as I toiled in the Slave Pit. They gnashed and bit the flesh, but I was able to escape.

The Fog of Sickness has stretched it's clawed hand around my throat and is trying to drag me down. Like a fool, I partook of the Iced Milk of Carbos, and thus weakened my defenses to it. May the renewing of the Ancient One strengthen me for this battle.

Fogs of Sickness

2009-09-02T06:19:00.000-07:00

Sickness is in the land and floats through it like the new fog of fall. Cautiously I walk like a man walks upon a field of traps. I feel the strain upon my flesh and fear to partake of any of Carbos' sweet offerings. Long I have fought the Sleep Wizard, but now I may have to align with him, to strengthen my defense. Tjorn, the Hypercrybarian, has already fell powerless to this affliction from his contact with the Goblin Hordes. The Queen of Amazonia has come to his aid. Together may they defeat this ancient foe.

Circadian Disruptian

2009-09-01T05:58:00.000-07:00

Darkness greets me in the early morn. His companion is coldness, which after the season of Helios, I welcome. But the coldness is only the forebearer, announcing the coming reign of the Frost Giant, who is cruel and ruthless. The veil of Selena falls early at evening time, shortening the days. Soon the Battle of Bulkage will be upon us, and I know this battle will be hard fought. Even the Dew of the Mountain, with it's life invigorating energy, is hard to deflect the blows of the Sleep Wizard's Hammer. Or the seductive ring of the Bells of Carbos. May the Ancient One grant me victory over my enemies.

Strength

2009-08-30T17:32:00.000-07:00

Strength does not lie in the flesh alone, but also in the shield and sword you carry. In your armor that you wear. It lies in the knowledge that you learn. Strength is earned, learned and practiced.

Sweet Rings of Carbos

2009-08-27T07:51:00.000-07:00

The night of last was harsh as I fought with the foul undead in the rivers of sleep. Breakfast was sparse this dark morn as my stomach was upset. As my energy waned and my stomach rumbled like a coming summer storm, I partook of the Sweet Rings of Carbos. May the Queen of Amazonia not find out, or I shall be driven through with a short sword and made example of.

Hammer of the Sleep Wizard pt. 2

2009-08-26T05:09:00.000-07:00

With the crowing of the cock I found myself deeply enchanted by that diabolical Sleep Wizard, servant of Morpheus and his cold brother Thanatos. Like a weak woman running against the strong rush of a river, I moved inside his foggy realm. I knew that even the Dew of the Mountain would be hard in breaking this spell. His Sleep Hammer falls on me with crushing blows. But a warrior does not quit.

The Magical Bean of Caffeinus is wooing the Queen of Amazonia with it's sweet song of strength. Long she was under it's control, and had broken free, but now she once again partakes of it's deep magic.

How Heavy the Sword

2009-08-25T07:30:00.000-07:00

How heavy this sword that cleaves to my sore hand,
This weary battle rages on as the Zombie Minions crush;
I hack, thrust and defend the borders of the attacked land,
But still they press on, led in a mad berserker's rush.

Caffeinus fails me and Carbos taunts me from his soft throne,
The Ancient One, when will he break the sky with his hammer;
Sometimes it feels like I stand this bloody war ground alone,
The only song, the sound of the Imbecileots vocal clamor.

Are you friend or are you foe? Until battle we may never know.
Suave tongued sons of Iscariot surround me in the fighting ranks;
Stately wolves in skins of the lost sheep that they have slained,
Their tongues sharp razors and the hands all scarlet stained.

How heavy this sword that cleaves to my sore hand,
But sadly rage on this long drawn weary battle must;
I hack, thrust and defend the borders of the attacked land,
Till the Ancient one arrives and lays them all in the dust.

The Foul Spell of Sickness

2009-08-23T09:49:00.000-07:00

As we prepared to go the Hall Joyous and listen to the Sage read the Words of the Ancient, Tjorn the Hypercrybarian was overcome by a foul spell of sickness. Quick was the battle, but much was shed in its waging. The Queen of Amazonia acted most brave and was able to do the greatest feat.

Afterward we rested by gazing upon the Stone of Images and it's tale of a most fierce warrior panda trained in the arts of bodily warfare. Much laughter was heard in our abode. Then we ate the Flatbread of Carbos.

Later on, the Queen of Amazonia and I gave chase to the fabled blue tailed dragon. With much cunning and skill, we were able to trap the beast and free it amongst the fountains without any harm to our being. It did put up quite the game, even playing dead, but it was no match for battle hardened warriors as ourselves!

The Hammer of the Sleep Wizard

2009-08-22T11:14:00.000-07:00

Upon returning from the Slave Pit, I was deeply under the incantation of the Sleep Wizard. His spell fell on me as a warhammer upon the skull of an enemy. My powers were weak, and I did not resist him.

Today, I and Tjorn the Hypercybarian rode our faithful mare Petunia to the city of Mule Camp. There we marveled at many beasts of burden and their handlers. Later we traversed the stone hills to the Sammian Fields, were we acquired many provisions at great cost.

The Beasts of Burden of Mule Camp

2009-08-21T08:39:00.000-07:00

I and Tjorn, the Hypercrybarian, shall travel to Mule Camp on the morn of tomorrow. There we shall view enormous beasts of burden and talk to their handlers. May his mood not be foul, for I will swiftly administer justice.

The Coming Reign of the Frost Giant

2009-08-20T08:17:00.000-07:00

The lordly Helios sits lower in the horizon, as the glory of his light wanes. His love for us recedes as he looks for his reflection in southern lands. The grey cloak of fall slowly creeps into the lands, announcing the return of the Frost Giant's reign. Carbos, lord of the Fat Ones, has aligned himself with the Sleep Wizard, and their incantations are deep and powerful. The Battle of Bulkage will wage itself heavily this year. But what is life if you do not fight the good fight? Nothing but useless womanly chicken squawk!

The Princess of Stupidia

2009-08-19T09:11:00.000-07:00

The Siren of the Slave pit is singing her tune. The workers are entranced by her like a mouse in the paws of a cat. Her song is not sweet nor is it of beautiful words that roll sweetly like the ocean waves. It does not tell tales of far away lands, beautiful maidens or adventures of yore. Instead it charms it's listener by the shear stupendous stupidity of it. Like a numbing blow upon the skull. The mice think they are controling this game, and yet who is in control?

The Hell Hag

2009-08-18T10:53:00.000-07:00

Caffeinus has failed me this day, as the Slave Pit is flooded with the refuse of the Zombie Minions. The grindstone is being turned at a furious rate, as the lords crack their whips. The Hell Hag has arrived and tries to coat her poison with honey, but I do not bite - white washed tombs still contain dead men's bones. Her shrill shriek, like that of the Harpies, summons the Hydra from it's ocean abode to wreck havoc upon the Slave Pit. Slay it I must.

The Queen of Amazonia

2009-08-15T20:42:00.000-07:00

In the time of my life, when the early blooms of Summer hail the end of Spring, there found I the Queen of Amazonia. The veil of loneliness had long been over my eyes, and many tears had been wept as offerings at the altar of selfishness. Like the a cool rain upon the hot dusty soil, she brought forth a comfort to my soul. But only after I turned away from that altar, those detestable sacrifices, and sought the way of the Ancient one. The greatest treasures are often found while not looking.

The Great Dung Wars

2009-08-15T15:08:00.000-07:00

The weapons seem to fail, as I stand firm against this foe. Tjorn, the Hypercrybarian, is strong, but I must be stronger. His endurance is carved from the trunk of the great Brazil tree and like the Queen of Amazonia is he. But I must be stronger. A clenched fist can never take hold of the prize before it. He is young, and the greenness and pliability of his youth is what gives him strength. But the wisdom of age, is what makes the old grey oak stronger. I must be like the oak, using wisdom. I must be stronger!

The Minstrel of the Gods

2009-08-13T11:35:00.000-07:00

Today, a mighty prince has fallen. A minstrel of the ages. With his mighty axe, many warriors have partook of the Hammering of the Gods.

R.I.P Les Paul

The Golden Rings of Lök

2009-08-12T12:16:00.000-07:00

When the earth was young and the Dew flowed freely from the Mountain, there was a dwarf named Frito, who was a blacksmith of greatest skill and renown, as well as a splendid cook. Lök, a servant of Carbos, lord of the Fat Ones, commissioned Frito to fashion for the gods, a tasty treat from the rays of sunlight. Frito traversed the heavens on the wings of the dawn, where he alighted in the palace of the lordly sun. Without his knowledge, Frito proceeded to shear his beautiful golden locks and place them in his satchel.

When the lordly sun looked down upon his reflection in the waters, he noticed the missing rays of light. His anger burned brightly as he searched about for the trespasser. Frito, realizing that he had been found, slid down the curtain of twilight as the lordly sun gave chase. Frito cried out to Lök, who only hid in the shadow of the Mountain. Frito fell headlong into the great Sea of Dew, where the sun was not able to retrieve him.

Frito, angry and full of wroth, fashioned the sunrays into beautifully crafted rings. He then dispersed the Golden Rings of Lök upon the earth, for mere mortal men to partake. They are most enjoyable with the Dew of the Mountain.

The God of Slumber

2009-08-10T16:52:00.000-07:00

Slowly the god of slumber draws back on his bow – his aim is true. The bowstring stretches the creaking wood under it's pressure, as energy courses it's length. His arrow flies like the flash of lightning through the sky and for a moment looks as if it hangs in the air before slamming into it's target. Slowly the power of sleep over takes its unsuspecting victim as his eyes droop in drugged stupor. The body gives up it's fight long before the mind and carries it along into sleep's unbridled passion. The bed awaits, like a mother upon it's injured child, with arms outstretched. Dreams descend like valkyries upon the fields of war.

How lovely is sleep, the weak younger brother of death.

The Evil Dog Named Heat

2009-08-10T13:19:00.000-07:00

The lordly sun beats heavily upon the anvil of this day, bring forth much heat. With the alliance of the Sleep Wizard, fatigue has crept it's greedy little fingers in to my bones, that now groan under the exhaustion of this heat. The hypnotic grind of the Slave Pit, lulls my weakened skull into the grey lands of slumber. A challis of the Dew of the Mountain awaits me in its emerald beauty. As well as the Flat Bread of Carbos. I shall slay this evil dog, named heat!

The Battle of Bulkage

2009-08-07T11:57:00.000-07:00

Today I have ate an abundance at the altar of Carbos, lord of the Fat Ones. He is in league with the Sleep Wizard. Together they have enchanted me with deep incantations, and have drawn me to their soft fleshy temple. How heavy their burden weighs upon my mortal frame. May I flee this unholy temple and break free from the Battle of Bulkage. May I, by the Sword of Amariah, cleave them in two!

A Chanced Meeting

2009-08-06T06:54:00.000-07:00

As the lordly Helios arises free from his dark chamber of sleep, he caught a glimpse of Selena as she descends into hers. He shines brighter, a blaze of orange in a lavender sky. She is pale and cold, her figure at it's fullest. Never is she to be his.

The Sirens of Sleep

2009-08-05T13:13:00.000-07:00

The Sleep Wizard is heavily working his enchantment upon the Queen of Amazonia. She is weak and succumbs to his magic. She does not drink the Dew of the Mountain, so Caffeinus can not help her. She is lulled to the bed chamber by the softly singing sirens, where she crashes upon the pillowed rocks. Only the strong resist sleep, for sleep is the brother of weakness, and the weak do not win the battle!

Slowly Rolls the Grindstone

2009-08-05T11:10:00.000-07:00

Slowly the grindstone mills the corn into dust. It seems as if the hours at the Slave Pit roll on like the passage of a turtle through mud. Even the pouring of much Dew of the Mountain, has not helped this wearied soul. Maybe Caffeinus has abandoned me in my hour of need. He is worse than Loki, that trickster!

The Crown of Morpheus

2009-08-05T07:04:00.000-07:00

Heavily the crown of Morpheus weighs upon my brow,
My thoughts swim in a thick sea of mud;
Heaviness is in my bones and my eyelids are hung low,
His poison now seeps into my blood.

Please sing to me slowly the songs of sweet days gone by,
Forgotten melodies of ancient lullabies;
In the thick shrouded fog I reach for the steady shore,
to rise up from the depths of this deep ocean floor.

Back to the Slave Pit

2009-08-04T05:20:00.000-07:00

With the crowing of the cock, I have traversed to the Southern Lands, to once again labor in the Slave Pits. There is a she-ogre most foul laboring besides me that has drenched her self in perfume to mask her inadequacies. I feel as though I am being violated by her scent and find my mind numb with its curse. Grumpkin, the Six Foot Dwarf, is as cheerful as a bog on a wet winter eve. But alas, I have waylaid at the Tavern, to replenish my energy with the Dew of the Mountain.

The Wall of Images

2009-08-03T13:07:00.000-07:00

Today we journeyed into the Southern Lands, to the Hill Unpleasant, where we saw fantastic visions on the Wall of Images. The sorcerers conjured a most fantastical story of fiendish creatures and a giantess that fight off demonic spirits from beyond the heavens. To battle tis much nobler than to sit and watch.

On our travel back, we sojourned in the Sammian Fields of Bufjord. There the Dwarves of Distraction met with the wrath of the Queen of Amazonia.

The Ancient Stone Circle of the Mulberrians

2009-08-03T05:14:00.000-07:00

While the lordly sun was young in his chamber, we made the trek to the Hall Joyous to hear the Words of the Ancients from the Sage. After wards we feasted on Flat bread of the Carbos while watching the Stone of Images and it's tales of glories past.

As the lordly sun made way for Selena, we once more traversed the Hills of Mulberry in search of the Ancient Stone Circle of the Mulberrians. We came upon a family of deer that were too small for food provisions, and so let them go. Tween the Outrageous was attacked by the Fire Spitting Ants of the Red Earth, which she quickly dispatched with the help of the Queen of Amazonia. Tjorn, the Hypercrybarian was successful in my task to find the letter "N" carved upon the stone circle. So our day went.

The Conquest of the Helen Mountains

2009-08-01T13:32:00.000-07:00

The lordly sun broke forth from his chamber and dispersed the gloomy curtain of night, and brought his glory upon this mortal day. We trekked to the Helen Mountains and rafted the river with a great throng of people. The Queen of Amazonia and I were mercilessly shackled to the Dwarves of Distraction. Tween the Outrageous was under the spell of the Mood Foul and acted of ogreish behavior. We rescued young damsels in distress and recovered the slippers of one fair maiden, as the rapids and rocks hindered us not in our journey. Later, we found an outpost where we were able to restock with delights from exotic lands. We ate of the spoils of the Sammian Fields and drank the nectar of dragonfruit.

When we returned to our abode amongst the flowery branches, we ate more spoils and slow roasted Smorellian Treats.

Now the Queen of Amazonia is once again beset by the evil incantation of the Sleep Wizard as the children of Selena dance upon the blackened stage of night.

To the Helen Mountains!

2009-07-31T16:57:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow we travel to the Helen Mountains to raft the river and escape the mire of the Slave Pit. I will bring the Dwarves of Distraction and the Queen of Amazonia. I will bring much of the provisions from the Sammian Fields and the Dew of the Mountain to replenish my energy.