Up-date on Harpy Invasion
– by Princess Grassina
Last week the royal huntsman reported that he had seen harpies flying in the direction of the town of Spud at the edge of the enchanted forest. I investigated as soon as I heard the news, but it was already late at night when I found the harpies roosting in the trees in the center of town. It took three of my strongest spells to chase them away. They left screaming foul language and shedding stinky feathers that contaminated everything they touched. I had to throw out my newest pair of shoes just because I stepped in something they left behind. The last I saw of them, they were headed toward an uninhabited bog that lies at the farthest edge of the forest between Greater Greensward and the kingdom of Soggy Malvinia, our neighbor to the east.
After chasing the harpies away, I spent the rest of the night in Spud to make sure that my banishing spell had worked, and to try to get rid of the awful stench. Nothing I did seemed to make any difference. I finally remembered hearing that the juice of a fruit called the lemon, mixed with soured apple juice and a pinch of scrapings from a unicorn horn can do the trick. My husband, Haywood, has a way with small creatures, so I returned home in the morning and asked for his assistance. He convinced a flock of crows to fetch the lemons for me while I got the soured apple juice myself. The maiden, Saffronica, talked the unicorn into letting her get some scrapings from his horn. After mixing the concoction, I returned to Spud and sprinkled my remedy. The town no longer smells like rotting whale and more like an army of angry skunks had passed through.
The stench should lessen with time – I hope. In any case, the residents of Spud do not wish to move away and say that they are getting used to the smell. They believe that the smell will keep strangers and bandits away. I agree with them and suggest that anyone traveling in that direction should make a wide detour around Spud. Fifty or sixty miles should be enough.
– by Princess Emma
I never imagined that I’d be writing for the Greater Greensward Gazette again so soon after Eadric and I left on our honeymoon, but here we are back home, quite unexpectedly.
Our honeymoon started well and we enjoyed our visit to Tottlesby-on-the-Sea. King Tomas and Queen Teraminga were very gracious and showed us many of the local sights, including a delightful waterfall that ran up-hill. It was soon time to move on, however, and we took to the sky in our whirlwind looking forward to our visit to Seareach, the next stop on our trip.
We were well on our way south when the wind died suddenly. It had been a strong, healthy wind until that very moment, so we were both taken by surprise when we found ourselves tossed into the top of a very tall tree. Although I was fine, Eadric hit one branch after another until he managed to grab hold. During his tumble he sprained his ankle and wasn’t able to put any weight on it. We were trying to decide what to do next when some unusual furry beasts with long tails and man-like faces emerged from the leaves to hit us and pull our hair. I didn’t have much time to think, so I said a quick spell to bring us home.
Needless to say, we were disappointed that our trip was cut short, but we’ve already decided to continue our honeymoon trip once Eadric’s ankle has healed and he is able to enjoy himself again.
Although Eadric must rest for a few days, I have already resumed my duties. Should anyone have any problems of a magical nature, contact me, not my aunt, Grassina.
Letter to the Editor -
Shoddy Products at the Magic Marketplace
- by the witch, Ratinki
I’m writing to you, Oakley Treekin, because you are the editor of the gazette and I have some complaining to do. My friend, Klorine, and I bought a whirlwind at the Magic Marketplace as a wedding gift for Princess Emma and Prince Eadric. We spent a lot of money on that bottle of wind, but we heard that it frittered out after only one use. The couple was supposed to be going on their honeymoon. Because a dishonest merchant sold us shoddy goods, the honeymooners ended up floundering around in a jungle.
I’m not naming names, but you know who you are - tall skinny man with puffs of white hair growing out of your ears and a nose as long as my index finger. That was the last time I’m buying anything from you. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them that your merchandise isn’t worth the ear wax you used to seal the bottle.
I think it’s a shame that good honest witches like Klorine and I can’t depend on the quality of the stuff we buy at a supposedly reputable market. There ought to be rules about maintaining the quality. If there are rules, they aren’t doing much good. Maybe Klorine and I have to find another market to go buy our magical stuff, because we sure are disappointed in the one called the Magic Marketplace.
Top 10 Rules for Feeding your Flying Pigs
by- Bob Stableman
10. To make a skinny pig fat- feed corn meal pie.
9. Feed peppermint for sweet breath.
8. Avoid mud pie- they like to sleep in it not eat it.
7. To avoid gas- No broccoli or beans.
6. To fly low- feed light foods, grains & veggies.
5. To fly high- feed heavy foods, potatoes, cheese & dairy.
4. Sugars are enjoyed- but then your pig sticks to things (like the trees he flies past or the ceiling).
3. They love sweet meats- but beware they can cause belching.
2. Water at least 5x per day.
1. If you forget to feed your flying pigs, then they will feed themselves while flying, which makes for quite a messy trail behind them!
As a longtime resident of the Brickadily Bog in the Enchanted Forest and a reader of the Gazette since my girlfriend first lined my nap-cage with its pages last week, I felt compelled to inform you of some recent developments.
Civility is apparently a word only the old folk in the retirement village uses any more, and for once I’m not laughing at them. It’s downright shameful the way people treat goblins today, and with no good reason. Whether I’m minding my own business while out trolling for valuables left unattended or setting traps for little kids with candy they don’t need, I’m yelled at, pelted with rotten vegetables and kicked in the shins for fun, often at the same time. They even have hunting parties that go out specifically for goblins. Coincidentally, I still haven’t found my mother, but that’s not really a complaint.
As an upstanding specimen of goblinhood, I am an authority on ruffianage and I can tell you it really ticks my brain-tick that such behavior is considered acceptable, and that’s saying something. I’ve devoted my life to selfish pursuits and blatant corruption, but to be treated in such a manner by someone outside my species is despicable and I won’t stand for it. In fact, I haven’t stood for it and I set one of them on fire, but this is a semi-anonymous letter, so don’t try to set the authorities on me, cause I have a new javelin I haven’t practiced throwing at strangers yet. But that’s beside the point. I’d make it again, but I hope you’ve picked up on it already. In short, stop being such bullies or you’re going to make me mad, and no one wants that.
The Armour Crest-
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