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Snypiuer

Dear Pen Diary

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Dear Pen Diary:

 

Today the pork rinds made fun of me, while the cheese puffs marginalized me. A hairless chinchella mocked me as I endeavored to make myself take responsibility for my extreme apathy. Have decided to post more often, despite the ridicule from the neighbors' dyslexic (sp?) cat which believes he is a South American earth pig. Need to find my muse. Thus, I will be stalking :ph34r: dust bunnies for the foreseeable future.

 

Everyone feel free to add your own entries.

 

That's what a public diary is for.

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

So far, the hunt for reality dust bunnies has been unfruitfull. Muse remains captive.

 

Mr. Finnigan (the oversize rat that roams the neighborhood and cleans up oil stains in driveways while everyone sleeps) offered his condolences for my failure and then presented his tail to be scratched - for luck (this works because Mr. Finnigan is half Lepercaun - don't ask how).

 

Still no dust bunnies.

 

BUT!!!

 

After years upon years upon years of careful planning and subtle manipulation of the space/time continuum. . . The Grim Squeaker, Death of Rats, Priest to the Left Side of the Priest to the Left Side of the Priest to the Left Side of the Priest to the Left Side of the Priest to the Left Side of the Great God, Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. . . has fallen into my trap!

 

A new day of sports entertainment dawns!!! :lol::lol::lol:

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dairy for Mar 25 08:

 

Jemely Wiggly Cabbage is still sick. Not sure what's wrong with her, but I wonder if the raccoon that stepped broke open her leaf infected her with something.

For today: isolate what in her essence is diferent from the typical WC essence. Needed to work on the "Essence of WC" spell anyway.

 

Stepped on someone's foot while getting food toda and they hissed. I feel really bad, but I can't even send an apoology note becuase I've forgotten the name!

 

Really should wash clothes. Tomorrow?

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\o_o?

 

Dear Diary,

 

The dust bunnies have started to spontaneously pop! I wondered what was making that bubblewrap noise, have for a few days now, but this is the first time I've seen one explode. I opened the door to let some nice spring breezes into the house, one got swept out into the living room, and pop! Nothing left but a swirl of airborne dust and the slightest scent of fresh-baked cookies.

 

\o_o!

 

I am quite confused. I certainly didn't cast any spells of the sort. Maybe Starlight attempted to help with the housework magically?

 

--Rydia, pointy-eared shinyhunter

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

Someone released a bunch of reality dust bunnies. I was unprepared. Beaten sensless and left for dead (tax time BIIITTESSS!!!!).

 

Unsure where they came from, but may be tied to my three squirrel companions. Sent them out in search of dust bunnies the other day. Reported an incident with a cabbage, but covered their tracks by framing a raccoon. Also mentioned an encounter with some non-reality dust bunnies. Filled them up with cookie dough and baking soda, then sent them on their way.

 

Sent Nanotoknonnen a fruit basket. . .pre-emptively. . .just in case.

 

Word is out The Grim Squeaker is missing. Everything is right on track. Wyvern is now key.

 

 

Figure out "postal system"? :huh:

Edited by Snypiuer

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diary for 3-28-08

 

I really must keep t his dairy more rugularly! It's just that I've been so distracted with everything. For one thing, there was a rainbow and I had to find out what all the plans thought. Some of the plants didn't even see it becuase they didn't see color. However, other plants saw it in greyscale and others saw the full color. Some were impressed, but others found the smell of a squished mosquite much more interesting. (Those were the venus Fly Traps.)

 

Jemely is doing better, but I still can't figure out what was wong with her. Must try to find t he racoon and ask what on earth he did. I suspect she'd be healing more quickly if these exploding noises didn't keep bothering her. Are they real? I haven't found any noises in my room, but then my room is pretty empty of things since someone did a surprise cleaning of it. Maybe they got tired of the smell? I really should have done laundry, but the surprise person did laundry and everything else. I don't think there's a speck of dust in my room! Anyway, not sure if Jemely is hallucinating about poppping noises or not. She thinks she smells "cookie powder" too so I have a feeling she may be a bit confused. Never seen a crazy WC though.... Puzzled

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

Figure out postal system. . . hhmmm.

 

ANYWAYS,

 

Real life has been VERY annoying and time consuming as of late. Most frustrating, since I have The Grim Squeaker Games™ to introduce. MUST get priorities in order. Will do so THIS week. Honest. Really.

 

El Diablo (neighborhood rooster that whispered esoteric secrets in ones' ear, if one were to take a nap on ones' front lawn) captured by animal control. As he was taken away, looked at me and whispered. . . something.

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Dear Diary,

 

Don't know what has absconded with my focus, but it's getting worse. Spent two hours throwing a ball at the wall and catching it, as quill sits, dry and accusing. Even the shadows and faerie dragons exit in a huff within minutes of being summoned, I have become so utterly...mundane.

 

A shadow creature in huff is a fascinating sight, it should be noted. For ones with no faces, voices, musculature, or skeletal system, they are shockingly emotive creatures when they wish to be. How is it I hadn't noticed until now?

 

Faerie dragons angry behave much as you would expect- think of a reptilian my little pony granted life, then denied a sugar cube. Endearing, guilt inspiring, and mystifying all at once.

 

My laboratory goggles, also disused, stare at me almost as balefully as the shadows.

 

Must continue research into principles of spirit transference into inanimate objects through devotion and regularity of use one day. I do believe I heard Tzimfemmstein muttering about the same thing one day as she tried to blowtorch some clone or another into submission. Must ask for her input- she keep copious notes.

 

 

I wonder where my shadows, dragons, and other creatures have been fleeing to? I must be growing senile for the thought to take this long in coming. Drat. I do hope I haven't made any trouble.

 

Hmm. Could they have anything to do with the underside of the bed smelling of cookies lately?

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Dear Di-Di,

 

How are you? I am fine. I spent today playing catch up with school assignments whilst being harassed by an elf via email (my friend's baby sister, don't worry she's legal). I always get the most inconvenient crushes thrown my way. But, at least it's not a guy this time. Alas, though I've had to break many a gay heart, I remain straight as a lone sunbeam falling through the leaves of an ancient forest.

 

Anyway, I finally finished my poetry thesis/manuscript for college. It's quite large consisting of many words, I'd say about 36 poems in all spanning 50 pages or so. It took me three years to write/edit it and I'm still not happy with it, but deadlines wait for no one, so for better or worse I turned it in and am still awaiting my advisors' verdict.

 

Once I get some down time, I may post so of it up here at the pen, most of the early drafts are here already, so might as well post the current revisions.

 

'best,

 

rev...

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

An army of reality dust bunnies assailed my kingdom, driving before them countless hordes of DM/MD's.

 

The horrors committed by the DM/MD's - acts so vile, despicable, disgusting and obscene. . .

 

It's hard to go on (Mr. Moog has been in a catatonic state, muttering "puppies, too many puppies" over and over)

 

The acts committed by the DM/MD's were so unspeakable, so horrific, so obscenely vile, that they shall NEVER, EVER, be thought of (let alone spoken of) again *shudder*.

 

Partially recovered and making an attempt to rebuild. Just thankfull for surviving.

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\o_O/

 

Dear Pen Diary,

 

You know how the dust bunnies have been popping less over the past few days--I think they've gotten better at holding themselves together, or someone's made a sticky spill on the floor. I mopped the kitchen to make sure Minta hadn't gotten into the honey and covered her tracks too well. I hoped they'd keep popping, even though it's harder to sweep them away after they've exploded, since the smell of cookies is so nice. Well, they've started again--I think--but now they explode with the scent of banana bread and sometimes, I would swear, long-dead mice. Very long dead. That mustiness which lingers just before the spring breeze sweeps through the house and finally gets behind the baseboards, in an aboveground house. . .Maybe my nose is too sensitive, Starlight can't detect anything like that, and would just like me to bake some banana bread. Now how strong do I make the dough so that it tastes good when the air is clear and not too strong when the air is scented?

 

--Rydia, pointy ear recipe hunter

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

The Grim Squeaker really did a number on me. He's tougher then he looks. Finally recovered and ready to make another attempt.

 

The squirrels have been out doing my bidding while I recovered.

 

Seems they may have been up to more mischief also.

 

Have heard of several graffitti incidents, Mr. Moog seems to have become obsessed with finding out just how many different ingredients will make dust bunnies explode and I shudder to think what they are doing to the cabbages - so far no ones discovered that last one. . . yet.

 

Anyways, sorry I've been so unreliable in making entries, will attempt to make them on a regular basis.

 

Also, must remember to punch in and pay my VERY late dues. Consider reapplying, maybe that will get me out of the late fees. Must check charter and by-laws to see if that is an option and hope Wyvern doesn't figure out about it.

 

Find B.B.Q. and make appearance as the Lesser Devine Being of Outdoor Cooking. If no B.B.Q., use my position as Spokes Cherub of Processed Meats next time I go to the deli.

 

'Till next time.

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Some time, some when, some where...

 

I am still walking through the desert.

 

Raising my vision from the parched ground I shade my squinted eyes with one hand to peer at the horizon. How far the horizon is I have no idea - it seems a long way off, though I know I have been walking for what seems an eternity and hadn't reached it yet. My boiled brain drifted from my task for a moment to try to recall where I was going over that horizon... or where I had come from... but I drew a blank. My mind foundered for a second, then steadied again with the thought of my task - to cross the desert.

 

Oh yes, I remember now - I was escaping Hell. All of Terra had been cast in the fiery pit at the final Armageddon, and this time there was no return. There seemed to be no redemption this time but to enter the furnace and see where the smoke takes me. I had been walking ever since. Ever and ever since...

 

My joints aching, my blistered skin stinging, my thirst tormenting, I returned to shuffling forward... but then stopped and flew up my hand again. Was there... was that...? Peering intently through the baked folds of my eyelids a vision formed as the fog in my mind seemed to pull back a little. I could just see... a haze. The eternal crisp demarcation between burning azure sky and scorched white earth seemed to be be losing it's edge ahead of me. Yes... I was sure of it. Something, finally, was ahead of me.

 

With an enthusiasm and strength I hadn't felt in eons, I strode forward with all the haste I could muster.

Edited by The Portrait of Zool

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Today

 

Wandered through three worlds. Chased by demon (was it an Arxltrxt, or a Grouthlaon? Must check) for half an hour, then got lost again. Demon got lost too, but I didn't find it. Yesterday was a whole world of tomorrows, tomorrow feels worse than ever. Forgot my name again, this time I think I'll call myself Blordran. Would have had my 3019'th birthday, but I went and forgot. Oh well, it'll keep until next year. Then I fell through my own magic and ended up in the second world. Sandy, hot, ice-covered and purple. A land of contrasts, or was that corn-paste? Lost my staff again, couldn't find it, so I went wandering again. Must remember to cast my memory-enhancer tomorrow - I forgot again today. A tree walked over and hit me, so I made it into a new staff. Note to self: don't try that again, the staff was all red, and fell apart. Strange trees of that world. Tried to teleport into city, but ended up on a molten planet. Too much fire, so I froze some into a stone staff. Then I went home. Now, where did I put that quill? Oh well, my finger works, although it does smudge the page. At home, I summoned a Yorluth, then forgot why. Banished it, then resummoned when I remembered. This time, I went and forgot to dismiss the demon, so it escaped. Oh well, I'm sure it'll turn up tomorrow.

Why am I writing this down? Don't I have a memory? Oh well, I guess I... what was that again? I keep forgetti

(The rest of the page is blank)

Edited by Hjolnai

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Dear Journal,

 

Having been lost for several months in the pen keep while searching for my room, I have nearly ran out of supplies. Last night I slept on a stairwell I came across. I awoke on a completely different staircase and fought off a very large spider. After wandering for several hours today I saw a door drifting down the corridor. It smelled unnatural so I stayed clear. Some time later I arrived at the entrance again. I broke down and sat in the fetal position. Eventually my search brought me to a dusty corridor. There I was set upon by vicious dust bunnies. I wish I had been informed of the many danger of the pen keep. Well, I must find water soon.

 

Sincerely,

Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat XXIII

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I slowly awaken to a blissful warmth and caressing on my cheek. It is a refreshing breeze and a ray of sun. Not the blast furnace of the previous aeon, but something enjoyable and nurturing. And awakening! Before, there was nothing to mark the passage of time but footsteps, and periods of despair/lucidity. No night, no seasons, just a vast intractable furnace...

 

But that was just a memory now. I was now in a paradise forest. The gentle rushing of a nearby creek greeted my ears as I sat up in the grass to drink in my idyllic surrounding. Trees guarded my rest, and now a ring of pretty flowers around me greeted my morning.

 

What did I do to deserve this, I wondered, then chided myself for thinking I had anything to do with it. Perhaps - just perhaps this wonderful forest existed for it's own sake, and I was simply fortunate to have wandered into it?

 

Wheels within wheels, I reminded myself, stretching myself on the grass as I drank in the natural beauty around me - then I sat up stunned at an unusual and ominous sound.

 

It was close. I froze, peering into the greenery trying to devine it's source when I heard it again, closer this time. Definitely someone, or some thing... giggling.

 

"We're up here', said a disembodied voice, startling me terribly and causing another bout of giggles. My head snapped up to see two young women sitting in the tree above me. When I caught sight of them they laughed outright then launched into a series of acrobatic moves that quickly put them in the tree across my tiny grove. They moved around each other and through the trees with such rapid, fluid and beautiful moves I couldn't help but stare. Their gauzy slips that passed for clothes also vied for my attention, as they wore nothing else - no shoes, jewelry, nor did they appear to be wearing make-up. Wood nymphs? I wondered? Almost, but they didn't blend in quite enough - much too pink...

 

My wonderings were interrupted when one asked, "Are you glad to see us?" and then another eruption of giggles. Eruption? Much too harsh of a word - their laughter was melodius, crystalline - feminine...

 

"Who are you?" I asked, wondering again.

 

"Who are we, he asks," said the one to the other. "The question is more like where are we," stated the other matter-of-fact. They looked back at me, smiling, but did not laugh. They were not classically beautiful, but they were unmistakably female, and attractive. Their curly dark hair was shoulder length. They had rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and pouting red lips. They weren't twins, but certainly close enough to be sisters.

 

"Um, yes... Where are... we?" I asked, quite uncertain what I was asking.

 

"Good question," said the one.

 

"If you cross the meadow you'd be leaving Singingwood," said the other.

 

"...and if you go back the way you came you'd come back to the end..."

 

"...so to start I'd be seeking the mountain beyond Ravenwood..."

 

"...for beyond that is the Keep of the Mighty Pen, and all points west."

 

"Oh," I said simply at the information. I thought a moment, then thought to get back to my original question. "What are your names?"

 

A peal of giggles was my first answer, then an obliging voice recalled, "We are 'the girls'," then they again shot throught the trees in their curious shadow motion, trailed by girlish laughter. "Don't worry, we'll be around.." called out one as they faded into the forest, and then they were gone.

Edited by The Portrait of Zool

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Glancing over her shoulder, she realizes that all are still asleep as she sneaks down the hallway and stops in front of a large wooden door. The sun has barely peaked over the mountains as she places her hands against the iron handle and gently pushes the door ajar. With one more glance down the hall, she slips into the room. Books are piled from floor to ceiling, some left open to random pages, others haphazardly tossed down as if the previous owner was in a rush to leave. Over against the far wall a large oak desk sits in front of a window, cluttered with papers, quills, semi empty ink bottles and a giant book marked "Pen Diary". Her eyes light up at seeing the book, and she climbs into the oversized chair and opens to the first page. Upon reading past entries, her eyes start to sparkle and she lets out a small laugh, filling the room with the sounds of silver bells. Finding a blank page, she picks up a quill and a bottle of ink, and proceeds to leave her own entry.

 

June 6

 

Dear Pen Diary,

 

My it has been a long time since I have wandered these halls. *Stopping to glance around the room and smiles* Doesnt lool like to much has changed in these past years, at least in terms of the housekeeping. I have been away on many an advernture, but it certainly feels good to be back.

 

For a while, I was working with a Troupe of Fire Salamanders intent on bringing the Theatrical world to the inhabitants of Terra. Needless to say, I ended up spending most of my time dousing the sets with water when they eventually caught fire. Alas, no matter how often I tried to explain to them that fire salamanders and wooden sets dont work well together, they were determined to make it work.

 

After that, I traveled around picking up stories and tales from different villages and towns that I happen to come across. I thought make I could put together a collection to sell in some of the shoppes, but then i realized that I simply didnt have the attention span for that type of literary endevour. So I found a nice bookshop that was looking for some help and have spent a majority of my time there. Its a nice little place run by a family of Squirrels. I have never seen so many books so well managed in all my life. Although they seem to have a strange system in which they file their books. It's all sorted by the year in which the main character is born and then alphabetical by the second word in the title. ...talk about being quite confused, but they seemed to think that it made perfect sense. Needless to say, they have put me into the "Fairytales and Legends for Children" Section, and I have only made it thru the B's. *Stops to cringe at the thought of all the work still waiting to be done* With the Festivals in town though, they decided to close up shop and enjoy the festivities, so here I am on something of a vacation...

 

 

 

Glancing up, she hears the patter of footsteps and the rumblings of creatures awaking and decides this might be enough for an entry

 

 

...so I will be sure to keep up entries while I can.

 

Fondest Regards,

Aurora

 

 

Looking down at the entry and smiling, she closes the book and sneaks out of the room. Searching through her memory, she makes her way down the hallway and climbs the staircase and disappears.

Edited by AuroraAoD

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Dear Pen Diary:

 

Been a while since last update.

 

Things were looking great, reality dust bunnies were no where to be found.

 

Little did I know, they merely lay in wait.

 

Their trap was diabolical in its' simplicity.

 

After such a sustained run of bad luck and set backs, I was given a glimmer of hope for a reversal of fortune. I was given news that I was showing physical improvement and it would be recommended that I could once again resume working.

 

I was foolish for falling for it.

 

The very day I received this good news, I fell ill. Believing it to be nothing more then a VERY bad stomach virus, I ignored it and set about putting my life back in order.

 

Reality dust bunnies are mean, vile little creatures.

 

About a week later, found myself in emergency room - extremely dehydrated, white blood count over 34 (told normal is about 8) from severe infection and a gangrenous gall bladder.

 

The reality dust bunnies had attacked with extreme prejudice, violently beating me to a bloody pulp and (once again) leaving me for dead.

 

I HATE reality dust bunnies.

 

All that said, I survived. My other medical problem (Muscular Dystrophy) is prolonging my recovery and the loss of muscle mass, from such a long recovery, will take a while for me to regain (some I can't, due to MD).

 

So, THAT means:

 

Will have to go through entire process of getting re-evaluated after recovering - which MAY take some time (the process itself, since it's all done through charities). Just hope I can gain back enough strength.

 

Hence, no work for a while longer.

 

Have I mentioned that I HATE reality dust bunnies?

 

Oh well, they took their shot and FAILED! So, 'till their next attempt, they can BITE ME!

Edited by Snypiuer

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Tomorrow (or was it yesterday?)

 

An exciting few hours, which I missed because I was busy reading and writing, and then all the action stopped. Got bored, wandered off, found a demon which must have been summoned by some irresponsible mage. It was eating dust bunnies, then throwing the remains at the walls. Tried to banish it, but it needed the summoner's name. The demon kept saying mine, rather than the name of its summoner. Tried throwing it out anyway, ended up teleporting myself into a different room. Three hours later, I got lost. Summoned a tree, which destroyed several rooms (oops), then threw myself into the next world. This one was orange. The ground was a strange texture, not unlike the skin of a lemon, but after cutting through it, some water halfway between red and yellow flooded out. Almost drowned, then visited the second world of the day by drowning and having an afterlife in a world of mountain lakes. Built a tower, but it fell down because I forgot the lower half. Then I collapsed myself and - Wait, is that a rainbow? No, it can't be, too much colour. Anyway, it's not that important... AAAAHHHHH!!!!! Being attacked by dust bunnies! Oh, never mind, they can't do much ha- They just tore the paper! Algrhthst arhn- Bah, writing incantations doesn't work. I'll say them instead. Now, what was I doing again? Oh yes, getting rid of the dust - dust? What dust? I don't have a feather duster! Oh well, can't be that important if I've forgotten again... How old am I now? 3018? Ah, yes, that rings a bell... that's how many birthdays I've remembered, but with my memory, my shoes are probably older than me. I threw the cat out the window, then fell into a lake. Got chased by a fly, killed the dragon blocking my escape, then fell into another lake. The fly drowned. A nightmare at midday, being chased by flying, burning books. Then they got wet, and stopped burning. On that topic, three days ago I think I died, but then, trees have a tendency to stay in the same place, and I don't. Probably got lost on my way to Hell, or with my luck, Heaven. Mr I H Eight tried to burn my house down, but I didn't have one, so he failed. Fell off another world and into next Tuesday, a place I hope never to go again. Wandered off, got lost halfway across the universe, and ended up back here. I found my room, which by an extraordinary coincidence was exactly where I'd left it, and then sat down to write some ridiculous fiction. Wrote three hundred pages of the best writing I've ever done (and in only 5 minutes!), then threw it out. Oh well, it was useless anyway.

 

What was my name again?

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Snypiuer finds a dusty, long forgotten tome and opens it.

 

"I remember this."

 

Dear Pen Diary,

 

Long time no write.

 

Feeling ever so much better.

 

Unsure if that is a good thing.

 

For some reason, I've gotten it into my head to be bad.

 

For some even more unknown reason, I've chosen Wyvern as a focus for this badness.

 

No one knows anything, so far.

 

It seems the Muse that I have found is evil. . . yet I believe there is a purpose and have chosen to follow where she leads.

 

The reality dust bunnies huddle in a tight bundle, in the far corner 'neath my bed - shivering in fear, fore they know and that knowledge terrifies them.

 

Will endeavor to update regularly! :D

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Zool awoke in a small shady glade beside a bright meadow. "Ahhh," he sighed as he stretched, shaking off the dry leaves and standing up from his bed of boughs "I need this." A wide grin came to his face unbidden as he absorbed his surroundings, then subsided as he remembered the journey of the last weeks - his joyful first awakening in Singingwood, his trek across the valley, the uneasy feeling of constantly being watched from the thin misshapen trees of Ravenwood (was it the 'Girls'? He never found out - though felt something much more sinister tugging at his awareness), then making his way through the Foulmire bog at the foot of the mountain, and finally his arduous climb up from the valley.

 

He stood, and turned a full circle to take in his surroundings. The meadow was in a high mountain pass, walled in on one side by a steep rocky cliff, the cone of a shorter mountain peak on the other. From the way he came he could see a ring of green at the foot of the mountain far below, and then an endless searing desert as far as the eye could see. The other direction, the way he was headed, were rolling hills and a broad misty plain, disappearing into a gray distance.

 

"I wonder where I am?" wondered Zool half aloud, rubbing his hairless scalp with one hand.

 

"You sure ask that a lot," a strange voice said behind him. "Of course, now, as before, you are here."

 

Zool spun around in great surprise to find someone standing where no one had been standing a moment before - a very short someone. "Wh-where did you come from?" he stammered in surprise, after he had looked down far enough to identify that a person was indeed with him, and recovered.

 

The stranger turned out to be a gnome, with a flowing white beard and a wry grin. He wore a blue leather vest, brown sack cloth breeches, a white shirt, and a red cone hat. His blue eyes sparkled over a pipe emitting a thin waft of spicy smoke. "I live here," he replied simply, pulling the pipe stem out of his mouth just long enough to say the words.

 

"Oh," was all Zool could think to say. Then he thought again. "My name is Zool."

 

The gnome stuck out a short hand in greeting, and held his pipe in the other. "I am Boddynock Nimblenoggin Fonkinglim Namfoodle Zook, but you can just call me Bodd."

 

They shook hands, the gnome's completely engulfed by Zool's average sized human one.

 

"So..." said Zool hesitantly, wanting information but not even sure where to start.

 

Bodd turned to look out over the burning desert from where Zool had come, beginning as best he could on his unasked questions. "This shady lit'l glen is the divide between the high and the low, the far and the near, Respite Pass. 'Tis a temporary respite after the rough climb from the bare valley below, and on down to the fair valley beyond, and all points west."

 

Zool looked out on the vast arid panorama below him and was silent for a moment before speaking, when he did it was with hesitant awe in his voice. "Did I climb all the way from down there?"

 

"Of course you did - don' be silly!. You still have much effort to go, but you have come a long way. This is a rest stop."

 

"A rest stop?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Hm. It's pretty nice, can't I just stay here?"

 

"You can try it, 'owever it can be tricky. This is Mount Respite, not Mount Stop. Generally, if you aren't going forward, you're falling back. Journeyin' is the whole point of the journey, it is."

 

"Well... how long can I stay?"

 

"You will know when the time comes."

 

Again, Zool was silent for a moment, this time his thoughts on how everyone around him seemed to know so much more than he did, but decided to just go with it. "I'm tired," he finally stated.

 

"You're tired because you've lost touch with your heart. Think, Zool, and remember the zest that you used to have for life."

 

"Yes... I remember... vaguely. It was all so long ago. Things were just so much more... exciting! But then things changed."

 

"Things always change," said Bodd.

 

"Well, this wasn't just change - it ended."

 

"Every ending is a beginning."

 

But this was the beginning of... of endless labor. There was just work. Shoveling... shoveling the coal into the furnaces - Day in and day out." Zool unconsciously raised one hand to shade his eyes from the unseen blast of the furnaces. A bead of sweat sprung upon his forehead.

 

"But you finally broke free..." gently urged Bodd.

 

"Yes..." said Zool after another long pause. In his mind he was recounting the aeon in the bowels of hell, forever laboring to feed the fires that heated it so, as crazy as that sounded, living in the very searing heat of it, and how it finally came to an end, when it had seemed no end was ever to come. "I found freedom. One day I had simply had enough, and I stared straight into the furnace, and I just started walking... I walked into the furnace... and I came through."

 

"And now you are here!" said Bodd sharply, suddenly breaking Zool's reverie and landing him back in the meadow with a resounding thud.

 

Zool looked around him as though seeing it for the first time, again. He blinked. "And somebody spoke and I went into a dream..." he recited in a whisper.

 

"You give yourself away too easily. Of course, you chose your freedom, and you have made the climb, so it hasn't all been in vain. You have learned to take much better care of yourself! Good! Good! There will, and have been, false starts, but if you keep your goal clear in your mind, and are mindful of the forces surrounding you, you can work around them, even use them, to assist you on your path. It's all right here!" he said, pounding himself in the middle of his small but stout chest. "Always remember - You make your own opportunities."

 

"And our own restrictions," said Zool, smug at having something to add.

 

"Wha?!" said Bodd, cocking his head to look at Zool with one eye over his pipe. "Hmph. Well, T'is a subtle thing - perhaps too subtle. One gives rise to the other, which was part of my point - but is the bota half empty or half full? - which was the rest of my point." Bodd shook his head, and gave an expression of concern. "Be careful what you think, or you just might Be it, t'is the point of my point - You create your own restrictions, ya know," he finished with a smile and a wink.

 

Zool looked down somewhat confused, but the wheels of his mind slowly lurched ahead. "You are very wise, friend Bodd."

 

"Bah. I am merely technical assistance, as we gnomes have been through the millenia, and as such I might take this opportunity to remind you that it is breakfast time - getting on towards lunch!"

 

Zool realized that Bodd was right - realized that he was hungry. "I think there were some berries over... Hey! Where you going?" he called after the rapidly retreating Bodd.

 

"Brunch at my place," called the gnome back cheerfully. "Your respite starts... now!"

Edited by The Portrait of Zool

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

Prison riots and VERY strong winds - life in a small West Texas town.

 

One more recent then the other. But, both have died down and once again able to communicate with outside world.

 

For a while, believed it was a sign that I should step away from the evil path I have chosen - or at the very least, not focus it at Wyvern.

 

Cuddles, the zombie penguin that crouches in the corner of my room, convinced me otherwise.

Edited by Snypiuer

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Dear Pen Diary,

 

Why did I not notice you before? No matter, I have noticed you now, and so shall write.

 

My muse is either asleep... or very lazy. The best I have been able to write in the past couple of days was a piece of rotten poetry and a couple sections of very putrid prose. I must find some way to alert her to the fact that I am very tired of her shenanagins. Maybe a sharp pin to the rear....

 

Also, either I got a bad batch of parchment, or my quill needs cleaning, because every other time I sit down to write I get very random ads on my precious parchment. Must look into "Cleaning Parchment Pop-ups."

 

Well, have a good day, dear Pen Diary. I will write more soon.

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