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There are some who say that music aids the digestion. I am not one of those people. I say music and food go together like libraries and football games (not a bad sport by the way, perhaps the Trolls are on to something there). My personal digestion enhancer as always been a good tail. So, as a service to you my fellow heroes, I shall do my best to entertain you while you consume your scrumptious dragon steaks. With my eyesight nonexistent because of that blasted witch's curse, I needed to choose a commander to lead our small band in our race to Yapap to discover the fate of the great mages. As my trusted advisor Scottie and my good friend Butch were in the other party, it appear to make sense that I should call upon my other friend to be our guide. Now, as you may recall, Flash is an excellent swordsman, however, that is not enough to warrant him to be in command. And when one recalls that Flash is a pheasant, and thus has never had to be responsible for more that his own hide all his life, he becomes an even less unlikely candidate. Couple that with his annoying habit of rushing into battle against insurmountable odds for no good reason (I cannot even begin to count the number of times he has attacked a ship full of pirates while traveling a rowboat *sigh* just because he wanted to see how well they could handle their swords *double sigh*) and you can plainly see why I made him my person guide, well giving the helm of command to my brother El Perro. You are most likely wondering why I have failed to mention that I have a brother, and are even more likely wondering how he survived if I said that my family was hanging from the ramparts of my castle. Well, either way the answer is pretty much the same. El Perro, my brother, is dead. Yes, I know it seems odd to entrust a dead man, brother or otherwise, with the helm of command, but in my case it makes sense. Allow me to explain. You see, El Perro, as the second born, was to be mage. He practiced day and night avidly. Unfortunately it didn't help any. I could spend hours relating all the misfires, goof-ups and blunders he made in the course of his life, but I will spare you the details. Suffice to say, he was the absolute worst mage in the history of mages. When he was strung up by the possessed mob in the castle, he tried in vain to utter a magic spell. Something to the effect of, "All the powers that may be, prevent this death from killing me". Laugh if you will, but the spell worked. My brother died along with the rest of the family, but his spell kept his soul from dying and traveling to wherever it is that it is supposed to go. So now was kind of a floating blob of spirit resembling myst more than anything else. But I knew him to be my brother because I could not see him anyway, and was able to tell him by his presence. Thus when we discovered him floating around the outskirts of Rover wailing like a baby, we informed him of our purpose and very reasonably he became the commander of our little band. There is but one town between Rover and Yapap, right around the halfway mark, in fact. It is called Woorof, land of the Irish Wolfhounds. We hoped to reach Woorof in half a fortnight. A very reasonable goal considering we were small enough to move quickly, yet large enough to have any problem finding food. Now the road to Woorof is long and tiring, but there is normally little danger. Oh, one my encounter a bandit or twelve, but nothing a few well trained men can't handle. Thus the first half our journey was uneventful. We camped underneath what were probably beautiful stars, but even if I had been able to see I could not have been able to tell. For the closer one gets to Woorof, the bigger the tree get. Perhaps that is why the Giver made the Wolfhounds the tallest of the Breeds, to go along with the generally big things that are found upon their land. For everything near Woorof is huge. Why when we were two days away from the town, we found an enormous six foot rabbit, which is amazingly undersized when you consider the average size of Woorof rabbit is ten feet tall. Needless to say, after we killed that rabbit, we no longer had to worry about hunting, just about trying to figure out how to carry the monster. In the end we discovered that El Perro could still use some magic in his current state, so he made the rabbit meat as light as air. This way we could just push it and let it float forward. This had the unfortunate side-effect of causing us to start floating for a few minutes when we ate some of it, but this effect was not too bothersome if we ate in small portions. As we drew closer to the town of Woorof (less than a day by this time) El Perro saw a Wolfhound scout in the distance. When he greeted him, the scout's eyes grew large and ran like he had just seen a ghost, which in a manner of speaking he just had. This led us to much discussing about how to not startle the our friends the Wolfhounds who had obviously not been destroyed by the Summoner. In the end it was decided that El Perro form his myst-like body around me and in that manner he could be my eyes, and I his body. This suited us both rather nicely and we figured our biggest problem in dealing with the Wolfhounds was solved. We were wrong. The biggest problem involving the Wolfhounds was that they were unreasonably angry with us for displeasing the Summoner by sending Scottie to Summons and thus allowing the Awakening to take place. It seems we had indeed missed the Awakening, and that it was not only bad but also our fault. That is why Borwane and Rover had been smote by the Summoner, and why we were right now completely and utterly surrounded by every member of the Wolfhound Royal Army with a few hundred pitchfork armed peasants for good measure. Here I shall stop my tail for now, and when next I tell, I shall divulge to you what the Awakening entails, and what happened to my little band in the hands of the Wolfhound Royal Army. Good night fellow heroes, and good luck your travels. Ace Dogg of Doggainia |
