Notic

MC Name:

         MonkeNotic

Character's Name:

         Sa'Patli "Longfang"

Character's Age:

         18

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         N/A

Transformed form:

         Kharajyr

Creator's MC Name:

         N/A

Creator's RP Name:

         N/A

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

The Remnant Kharajyr are the lasting memory of a once mighty race, created by the daemon Metzli on their home isle of Khalenwyr. They have retained a loose cultural identity through events such as lunar pilgrimages following the devastating loss of their mother-creator, whom they refer to fondly as "Muuna". Settled in various prides across Aevos, the Kha mass primarily now in the lands around Nor-Velyth, awaiting the fabled return of their old glory; a fate that shall never come to pass.

Physical Traits & Capabilities

The Kha are anthropomorphic felines, bearing strong tails and lengthy claws upon their bodies, as well as being adorned in colorful coats of fur. Their traits generally vary between the subraces, but they all share the common link of claws sharp enough to pierce skin, as well as eyesight that can allow them to view up to 20 blocks into semi-darkness (they require one light source). While varying in height, the Kha are typically relatively tall, going up to a maximum height of 7" with the Kha'Tigrasi subrace. It is important to note that the Kharajyr's claws cannot pierce through armor, and in the event that they might attempt to do so, the player is required to roll a 1d2 in order to determine of their claws break off; an excruciating experience for any Kha. Kha are also rather light-footed when falling, and can typically take minimal damage from moderate heights, as long as the height would not be lethal for a regular descendant. Finally, it is important to note the exhilarating effects of sugar on the kha, sending them into a frenzy whenever it is consumed.

The Kha aging cycle goes as follows:

0-5: Toddler

A Kharajyr, like any other character, cannot be played while in this stage of their life. It can also be noted that Kharajyr do not typically make animalistic noises during this stage, but it can be roleplayed for the sake of "flavor". Treat toddlers like any other LOTC baby.

5-12: Child

Now developing more motor and vocal skills, a Kha child will typically get up to half of their full height, progressing like a typical child would.

12-18: Teenager

During this stage, a Kha will achieve their natural weight and height that they will have throughout the rest of their life. They have begun to come into their own, with their coming-of-age naming ceremony happening around the time they are fifteen. 

18-150: Adult

In adulthood, a kha will live the vast majority of their life, bearing their full physical traits and capabilities. It is during this time that their final naming ceremony will take place, allowing them to adapt certain prefixes to their naming depending on their chosen profession.

150-200: Elder

Kha will begin to age and gray in the fur here, experiencing the woes of old age before eventually perishing at 200 years old or younger. A kha can never exceed the age of 200.

Subraces

Kha'Tigrasi

Resembling their feline counterpart of the tiger, the Kha'Tigrasi are the largest and most physically capable of the Kharajyr. Growing up to 7 feet in height, the Kha'Tigrasi display unique patterns across their pelts, resembling a variety of colors. Weighing between 150 to 250 pounds, with a minimum height of 5'10", the Kha'Tigrasi are capable. Alas, they can never match an orc in raw strength, and often lack the agility of their cousins. 

Kha'Pantera

The Kha'Pantera, resembling their feline counterpart of the panther, are the stealthiest and natural-born hunters of the Kha. While physically stronger than the Leparda, the Kha'Pantera are not as agile as Kha'Cheetrah nor as strong as Kha'Tigrasi, acting instead as a balanced stealth agent among the four. Their jet-black fur allows them to camouflage in night, but they can be seen in sunlight and are by no means invisible.

Kha'Leparda

Acting as the jack-of-all-trades among the Kharajyr, the Leparda do not excel in anything particularly. Sharing similar bodily structures to humans, the Leparda reserves the right to go in any direction that they see fit to, being able to pursue many different career paths. In the days of Khalenwyr, they acted as the race's merchants and diplomats. They resemble the real-world Leopard.

Kha'Cheetrah

Fast and agile, the Cheetah-inspired Kha'Cheetrah are the smallest and quickest of their race, acting as priests and healers. Their fur is noted for its black "tearstain" pattern, as while as its yellow or cream-colored complexion. Despite their speed, Kha'Cheetrah are incapable of dodging something as fast as an arrow but can often avoid projectiles that are slower.

Culture

The Kharajyr now bear the mark of the Turned Trident in honor of their fallen goddess, Metzli, who they recognize as dead and actively mourn her passing. As her creator upon the island of Khalenwyr, she was venerated, being the most treasured inspiration to the Kha, who now lack much of their old cultural drive and dedication. Many Kha share a sense of melancholy for this, with any new Kha that was not born of two, played Kharajyr parents having just returned from their Lunar Pilgrimage, in which they embarked on a journey to Khalenwyr to witness the death of their Muuna and mourn her loss.

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

"Longfang" is a Kha'Tigrasi, bearing a red-orange fur color with distinct black markings, akin to strokes of ink from a paintbrush upon a sunset canvas. He stands at a hulking 7'0" tall, weighing around 350 pounds. He often adorns himself in ceremonial garb from his Lunar Pilgrimage, in which he has just returned from. His toga, which is maroon colored, adorns the majority of his body, with his paws staying unburdened by any shoes or sandals. His piercing, yellow eyes hold a hawk-like quality, bearing a shade akin to a light amber.

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this creature is shelved, your character may be given the option to revert or be indefinitely shelved?

         Yes

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

 The Cobbler's Goblet, Issue V

The Weefolk's Choice Herald

This Week's News!

The Dead Walk in Dunwen

Blood Shed in Dunwen!

A Sheriff’s 100th Candle

The Dead Walk in Dunwen

Written by Griff Peregrin

An Illustration of the return of Jeannette Applebottom, by King Patches of Babblebrook.

It was just a normal sleepover for Marrow Whistlewood and the other attendees of her gathering. Little did they know, the seance conducted by several partygoers would be much, much more successful than they could have predicted. Rising from their summoning circle was the deceased High Pumplar, Jeannette Applebottom, who died under mysterious circumstances decades prior.

It seemed that, in their success, the sangria-drunk attendees had performed a successful seance upon High Pumplar Jeannette, thus tethering her to the mortal plane by way of what I will refer to as “The Wheatfield Gate”.

Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worst. Many allegations about sangria urination were thrown around wildly, and eventually my own actions came back to bite me in the behind. After attempting to inform the ghastly Jeannette of her identity and the circumstances of her demise, I was tackled down by Magnolia Fiddleberry and Marrow herself. It seemed that, in my lack of foresight, I had inadvertently dredged up too much pain with the ghost, and thus forced her away.

The village was furious with me, and rightly so. I have come to recognize the terrible nature of my actions, and the force behind the loss of such a valuable piece of history. I will try my hardest to track down this Jeannette Applebottom so that I may welcome her back into the fold of society, as well as learn from her life’s experiences.

If the village shall forgive me for this, I would greatly appreciate it. I would also like to note the positive hosting of Marrow Whistlewood’s slumber party, as well as the presence of the UNCONTAMINATED sangria. I cannot stress how UNCONTAMINATED by any SUBSTANCES that sangria was. It was CLEAN, and UNTAMPERED.

I hope you all can think of me as a proper journalist, whose work is not influenced by his own beliefs. In respect to this, I hope you all can view my work as uninfluenced, and not allow your opinion of me to get in the way of the truths of Dunwen.

Blood Shed in Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin

An illustration of Nemea and Peepaw Applebottom, by Bingo Bufferbottom.

It was a normal day in Dunwen when blood was shed within the tavern. In a tangle of fists, swords and cruel words, Peepaw Applebottom (who has since relinquished his affiliation to the Peregrin family over unrelated matters), as well as Nemea, a valued honorary halfling and long-time friend of the Shire, were assaulted by the devilish Apollyon Snowell. As many of my dedicated readers will know, this Apollyon Snowell has dwelled within the village in her biggun house for many moons now, and is a known associate and ex-lover of fiendish dragons that attacked our village several pumpkin weeks ago. That is correct, dear readers, Apollyon Snowell has made love to dragons, and without so much as an apology.

For years, Apollyon has been harbored illegally in Dunwen without undergoing any honorary trials whatsoever, which is and has always been customary of our people, as well as having been undergone by Nemea herself. This fact was, of course, covered up and forgotten under the threat of King Collingwood and his loyal lapdog, Breasal Nimblefoot (more about Nimblefoot in Article Three). 

Knowing bigguns, it is their nature to overstay their welcome, and this cannot be put into an example better than the case of Apollyon Snowell. Even after scapegoating all of our cultural traditions due to a suspicious friendship with the King, Apollyon could not resist the urge to physically assault Peepaw Applebottom in the tavern, forcing Nemea to come to his aid.

The fight was eventually discovered by several concerned Musin, who made a noble attempt at diffusing the fight and getting Apollyon away from the pair as she battered them with blows from her biggun sword.

After being medically attended to, there was a standstill in the village. The Sheriff, who was not present to diffuse the situation, took his sweet time prior to making a statement on what was to happen. Several eyewitness accounts saw Sheriff Nimblefoot in his burrow knitting a scarf for his wife, repeatedly asking if “the pie was ready”. Many suggest that Sheriff Nimblefoot has gone senile, which thus impeded his ability to reach a verdict. (More on that in Article Three).

Eventually, it was decided that a trial was to be held, with the date still being tentative until the Sheriff can reach a decision. Although, folks, I wouldn’t hold your breath; it seems he’s elected to make a matching pair of socks for his new scarf.

Ultimately, Dunwen must ask itself this: can we not only trust the bigguns who escape the honorary program and take advantage of our locals with violence, but can we also trust the government officials who have allowed this injustice to go unnoticed for so long?

Only time will tell.

A Sheriff’s 100th Candle

Written by Griff Peregrin

A quick illustration of the party, by Cap’n Tooke.

This week, many in the village had the honor of celebrating the 100th anniversary of Sheriff Breasal Nimblefoot’s birth. Much merriment was had as visitors from practically every bloodline and creed assembled to honor this great adventurer and invaluable member to the halfling community.

Many drinks were served, as well as games played, and a great celebration was reported by all attendees. Although, something seemed… off. One eyewitness reports having seen Breasal repeatedly doze off during the festivities. This witness also reports that Breasal often forgot where he was, or what was being celebrated, repeatedly asking others as to who’s birthday it was.

Such is the melancholy of age. Breasal has been, without a doubt, a splendid Sheriff, having returned many of the old proper traditions back into the framework of the village. He has defeated many foes, and will no doubt have many songs sung of his greatness in battle for generations to come. But alas, there comes a day when a man must be content with his achievements and pass on the torch to another.

Dunwen, I am afraid to say, but I believe that this marks the end of Sheriff Nimblefoot’s term of service. I think, if he is as wise as I have known him to be, he shall select a successor to ascend to the status of Deputy, and when he is ready, replace him as Sheriff upon his retirement. It is a sad remark, to be sure, but a necessary one. I hope to see changes being made in the near future. Who knows: perhaps one of YOU could become the new Sheriff?

Stay Wise, Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin, Illustrations by Bingo Bufferbottom

Published by the Peregrin Family

"Dark things stalk our Shire... such is the plight of a successful realm, I suppose. I'll take it over obscurity." The Halfling Griff Peregrin commented as he perused the many heraldings of Dunfarthing.

Griff Peregrins muses over the missive as he enjoys a nice slice of Fiddleberry Cheddar on a cracker. In his typical fashion, he reads every word over several times before setting it down, saying to himself, "Ah, how convenient. The azdrazi-lover frames the goblins and the helpless old man... typical biggun. I'll make my voice heard on this. Justice must be upheld."

 The Cobbler's Goblet, Issue IV

The Weefolk's Choice Herald

This Week's News!

Gnomestyle Cooking: Gremlins Attack!

A Duel in Dunwen!

Pepin Strikes Again!

Gnomestyle Cooking: Gremlins Attack!

Written by Griff Peregrin

An illustration of the Gnome Potluck, Bingo Bufferbottom.

Many citizens of Dunwen were excited to learn of a potluck taking place in the village square this week. Many more were quite intrigued to the fact that local gnome, Merwin the Fool, was hosting said event. Having personally attended, I can testify that I, too, was curious to learn the culinary traditions of the Gnomish peoples.

Upon arriving, everything seemed to be going quite alright, albeit it was somewhat jarring to learn that we would be throwing all of our dishes inside a giant, boiling pot, rather than eating them separately. Nevertheless, many halflings were tucking in for a delicious feast- that was, until gremlins arrived on the scene!

Taunting us from a nearby hill, a Gremlin sorcerer began casting rocks upon several participants, and even attempted to go as far as to try and tip over the pot! It was through this that several of the attendees gave chase to the gremlin, tailing it back to its hovel in an abandoned hovel beneath a tree outside the village.

After chasing it into the hovel, the attendees soon discovered that the gremlin sorcerer has raised several golems in an attempt to raid the village! The halflings jumped into action on the spot, with Griff Peregrin dealing a devastating blow to one of the golems following its brutal assault on Thain Mimosa Applefoot.

Within this hovel, the diary of a deceased gnome was discovered. Merwin the Fool himself continues to research into this diary, as well as its potential meanings for the future of the village. But while this research is being conducted, we must begin to wonder: does this Gremlin onslaught tie into the attack of both the Azdrazi, as well as Arkaknox? What have we done to incur this wrath? Can it be blamed on the people we harbor on our lands; the bigguns who use magic in the shadows?

A Duel in Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin

Griff Peregrin and Vindacus at the Shogging Pier, by Bingo Bufferbottom.

It was a cool, winter’s night when a small congregation of halflings met in Thain Mimosa Applefoot’s burrow for a lovely, peaceful supper. That was, until the foul Vindacus- the false knight whom we highlighted in last week’s issue- invited himself inside for the sole purpose of tormenting myself, Griff Peregrin.

After throwing several insults at my honor and intelligence, Vindacus suggested that mouse traps be constructed within the Castle of Babblebrook, revealing his bloodthirsty intent on catching, slaying or perhaps eating the Musin people. He did this not only over dinner, but in the presence of His Mousejesty, King Patches. It was only natural that I challenged him to a fair shogging tilt upon his honor, in order to avenge the cruel words spoken upon the Musin peoples.

We met at the dock, with many halflings spectating the match. The honorable Marrow Whistlewood volunteered to referee the match, as she was one of the few unbiased parties present. We elected to play “best of three”.

The first tilt resulted in a draw, with both of us falling off of our logs. In the second tilt, I managed to react at the split second of the timer, catching Vindacus offguard as I catapulted him into the water. However, under my suspicion that he was inadequately prepared, I chose to forfeit my victory of the round, as I believed it would sully my honor. Vindacus, not having any concept of honor, called me a fool for this.

In the following two rounds, Vindacus used a technique known as “quick shuffling”, which many shogging fans will know was banned in the Old Dunshire Finalist Match many years ago. Pressing his feet tightly to the log, he began to roll it forward, utilizing the momentum to knock me from my log and win the match.

I was in the deepest of dismay. Having accepted my loss, I reached forward to shake Vindacus’ hand, but not before he raised his arms and began chanting dark incantations in the direction of poor Miss Whistlewood!

In an attempt to save Miss Whistlewood’s life from his biggun sorcery, I tackled Vindacus into the water and attempted to wrestle the pumpkin from his head, as he was tainting the sacred vegetable of Lord Knox with his dark magic.

Vindacus, using his biggun strength, managed to best me once more, before fleeing the scene. As such, I leave an open reminder to the foul Vindacus: if you wish to truly fight me fairly in shogging once more, I will be open to the challenge. However, if you continue to use these backwards tricks and underhanded plays, I will have no choice but to result to the law’s might.

Stay safe and stay vigilant, Dunwen.

Pepin Strikes Again!

Written by Griff Peregrin

A Map of Greater Dunfarthing, Pepin Applefoot.

As we have been unable to arrange the long-awaited interview with Marrow Whistlewood, we will instead be highlighting one of the many maps that are continually produced by Pepin Applefoot. A boy genius, Pepin Applefoot has honed his skills as a master cartographer even further with this highly realistic rendition of the Shires of Dunfarthing. Way to go, Pepin!

The Cobbler's Goblet is now hiring writers, reporters and distributors! Citizens of Brabant and Valenza would be highly valued as Cobbler's Goblet staff members.

Contact Griff Peregrin (MonkeNotic) for more information.

Stay Wise, Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin, Illustrations by Bingo Bufferbottom

Published by the Peregrin Family

The Cobbler's Goblet, Issue III

The Weefolk's Choice Herald

This Week's News!

The Halflings Slay a Dragon!

Pecan Pie Conspiracy: The Stew Thickens 

Dunwen’s Dullards: Armed and Dangerous, Sir Vindacus!

The Halflings Slay a Dragon!

Written by Griff Peregrin

The Wedding preceding the Draconic Frenzy, by Mimosa Applefoot.

It transpired earlier this Pumpkin Week that the Halflings would not only host the marriage of two bigguns, but the house warming of Arugulaspawn themselves! It was at the wedding of Dunwen biggun local Apollyon Snowell and the Silver Lubba of Lurin that an unknown number of dragonspawn, identified by one of our sources as “Azdrazi”, arrived to crash the celebration. One of the guests, Magnolia Fiddleberry, testified that these dragonmen might have been the ex-lovers of our community’s own Apollyon Snowell. Several other halflings testify witnessing the dark fury of these beasts, who were ultimately defeated through the combined efforts of the guests present.

Our analysts at the Cobbler’s Goblet have begun to ponder a dark reality; perhaps these dragonmen’s appearance, as well as the arrival of the beast Arkaknox, tie in with some greater threat that may be posed to the village. Have we truly begun to incur Arugula’s wrath? Furthermore, if the rumors of Ms. Snowell’s associations with these beasts are true, could she perhaps be playing a hand in the greater conflicts that sweep the village?

Next week, Griff Peregrin will be releasing a long-awaited interview with a specialist on the Arugulan faith, detailing the possible paths we could take to get out of our present situation… but until then, keep your blinds open, Dunwen. You never know what our biggun neighbors might do next…

Pecan Pie Conspiracy: The Stew Thickens

Written by Griff Peregrin

Hambart Bingleberry in the Peregrin Living Room, by Bingo Bufferbottom.

Many of you will remember an article from our first Cobbler’s Goblet issue, detailing the potential lethal side-effects of Pecan Pie. Well, this week, we’ve managed to secure an interview with known glutton and village newcomer Hambart Bingleberry, who has demonstrated several worrying side-effects of pecan pie consumption.

Hambart weighs in at an impressive one-hundred-fifty pumpkins, or three hundred pounds, for our biggun readers. This mammoth of a weeman bravely volunteered himself for research and experimentation, having consumed a slice of pecan pie roughly the size of the average musin’s torso. What we found was astonishing.

Hambart, upon finishing the pie, immediately began to sweat profusely, which our scientists have reasoned to be an early onset sign of sudden death. He later said that he had no extensive history of eating pecan pie, and that this may be the first time he has ever tried it. For a man to immediately show fatal signs upon his first slice does not bode well for pecan pie’s safety regulations.

Stay tuned as we meet with local bakers to discuss their plans on avoiding a potential health crisis with this delicious but deadly treat.

Dunwen’s Dullards: Armed and Dangerous, Sir Vindacus!

Written by Griff Peregrin

Sir Vindacus’ Dunwen Estate, Bingo Bufferbottom.

Many halflings have had the displeasure of meeting the local biggun rotter and ne’er-do-well, the self-proclaimed “Sir” Vindacus, but few have had such a clear lens into his disgusting history as our reporters and informants here at the Cobbler’s Goblet.

For those who are unaware, the man who calls himself Sir Vindacus is an adult, biggun male who has taken up residence in a lofty estate within our shire for several years now. What you may not know, however, is how he got there in the first place. Several records from biggun kingdoms that Vindacus resided in at various points have detailed his dishonorable discharge from military service for various crimes, including public nudity, public urination, and serial debauchery. Having no other place to go, this “Vindacus” arrived in Dunwen, hoping to take advantage of the less educated locals.

Ruven, a frequent local of Dunwen, stated that they had seen a poster declaring Vindacus’ banishment in the theater of a place known as Kaethul. Furthermore, trusted elder Magnolia Fiddleberry stated that Vindacus may not be right-of-mind, believing him to have suffered some form of brain trauma.

Since his debut in our community, Sir Vindacus has repeatedly displayed his heinous tendencies, but it was allowed to rest… until recently, when Vindacus turned his vindictive gaze onto Dunwen’s own children. Many will know the beloved youth Zeeron, who as of recently was personally threatened by Sir Vindacus.

Vindacus, who has repeatedly referred to halflings as the derogatory term “Wee Wees”, came upon Zeeron with his typical forked tongue, to which Zeeron fought back. Declaring that “Wee Wees” was an offensive term, Zeeron stood up for the Halfling people, to which Vindacus retaliated with a threat on their life. Zeeron is very young, and as such, was deeply disturbed by this.

Please, to any halflings who roam the streets without this knowledge, hear this message and know of Sir Vindacus’ crimes. With luck, perhaps we can remove him from our land for good and be all the better for it.

Stay Wise, Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin, Illustrations by Bingo Bufferbottom

Published by the Peregrin Family

Griff Peregrin muses over the letter, contrasting it with his accounting of events that he had since compiled. The Journalist continued toiling away, crafting the next issue of his Halfling Newspaper, The Cobbler's Goblet.

The Cobbler's Goblet, Issue II

The Weefolk's Choice Herald

This Week's News!

The Halflings Take Up Arms!

Absent and Unapologetic: Is Griff Peregrin Sorry?

Pepin Applefoot, the Boy Genius!

The Halflings Take Up Arms!

Written by Griff Peregrin

A sketch done at the battle scene in the fight against Arkaknox, by Dolly Peregrin.

Last week, we told you about the murder of a mysterious Halfling farmer and the emergence of a strange beast in the wheatfields, known as Arkaknox. Shortly after seeing last week's issue, Sheriff Breasal Nimblefoot reached out to me personally to get information on this beast. After discussing thoroughly, Sheriff Nimblefoot elected to lead a party of several halflings, musin and bigguns alike to try and rid the wheatfields of this "shark-like Arugulaspawn". The party led a victory against the beast, with Arkaknox having fled deeper into the wheatfield as an act of retreat, returning it to normal. However, suspicions and worries are still on high...

After arranging a private interview with the Sheriff, I asked several questions about his response to the events. The interview is as follows:

How do you intend to defeat Arkaknox in the future, as well as further prepare the Halflings for any threats?

 "...we were warned that it would return. Until then, I shall conduct some self-defense lessons for those who wish to learn, as well as continue with my patrols". 

It seems that, when Arkaknox fled, he spoke plainly to the Halflings and warned them of his return, saying he'd be "back for blood".

How do you intend to conduct these self-defense lessons? Do you plan on using older techniques, such as the Peregrin Methods?

 "I will begin with the basics and move on to what I learned from my adventuring days. Everything is welcome if it'll help citizens defend themselves."

Out of worry for the repercussions and potential involvement in biggun conflicts due to these lessons, I asked the following:

Do you plan on using these techniques to train the Halflings for involvement in the biggun war?

"No, you've misunderstood me, this will only be for self-defense. It was agreed upon in the Grand Moot. We will stand up to immediate threats, [and] we won't interfere in biggun politcs. We are neutral, and that's that."

It seems that Impropers will have to hang up their armor, because it does not look like our involvement in the war will come at any point.

After leaving Sheriff Nimblefoot, I soon encountered a new halfling I had not met before named Marrow Whistlewood. This Marrow seemed to have rather strong and unorthodox opinions on how we should deal with the Arkaknox situation, which is detailed in the interview below:

What are your thoughts on the Arkaknox situation? Do you know what brought it about?

"It was a sign! I've just come to this village, so I don't know what you all have done to summon the ire of the Mistress of the Depths, but she's angry... furious at you... and you all better start repenting, lest your souls wallow in the stormy fathoms of the inky keeper's tides."

Please, elaborate!

"It was raining, a horrid storm, and yet I was the only one who remembered to pour [water] out? I thought everyone knew you had to pour [out water] when it rained, because the Sunken Dame was pouring [out water] for you! And after the rain, you should make an offering to the harvest, since the rain helped foster your crops. Really, this is basic stuff, but [none] of you were doing any of it... no wonder she is sending sharks after you all."

So, you believe we should start taking the worship of Arugula more seriously?

"Don't go saying her name, you'll only make her more mad, and it brings her attention to you! Now you have to wash your mouth out with saltwater. And yes, a good and proper reverence of the tide is in order, starting at least with oblations- offerings."

I will attempt to track down this woman again for next week's issue, in which I will dive deeper into her views on Arugulan dogma and its practices. What are your thoughts on it, Dunwen? Should we start honing our shovel skills, or start praying to the Salt Maiden? This is surely a time of great turmoil... stay safe out there.

Absent and Unapologetic: Is Griff Peregrin Sorry?

Written by Griff Peregrin

An illustration of Griff Peregrin outside of the Peregrin Burrow, by Mimosa Applefoot.

Griff Peregrin, prolific chief journalist of the Cobbler's Goblet and author of this article, has committed a heinous and scandalous act in the eyes of many: he has avoided an invitation to dinner. Only a few days ago, the ever-welcoming Mimosa Applefoot requested at random to take a sketch of Griff outside his home, The Peregrin Abode. Believing this was simply a portrait to be displayed within the Town Hole, Griff posed gallantly with his golden shovel, looking dashing as ever. It was only after returning from a long sojourn into biggun country that Griff had realized the true intent of the drawing- a dinner invitation, from the Applefoots to the Peregrins!

Griff was, without a doubt, shocked deeply by this. Having already missed the dinner, he elected to make his apology publicly in order to douse the whispers of scandal. He has come out and testified: "I am sorry, Mimosa. I was in biggun country trying to scam children on fake voodoo dolls. It was very funny. I will attend the next dinner that you host to the best of my ability".

Do you forgive him? Let us know. Send all letters to the Peregrin Abode by the Dunfarthing waterfront.

Pepin Applefoot, the Boy Genius!

Written by Griff Peregrin

A detailed cartographic accounting of the Dunwen area, by Pepin Applefoot.

"What a prodigy", many a halfling have said over the last few days: and it is simply, undoubtedly, true! Above is shown a copy of Pepin Applefoot's detailed map on the Dunwen region, including an adorably misspelled Barnsley, the greater Dunfarthing Proper, and even smaller regions such as the Dunkeld area by the coast. Many have talked with Pepin Applefoot over the last few days, congratulating him on his academic feat. Many have also begun suggesting the idea of opening a halfling school, for halfling knowledge such as crop rotation sciences and pecan pie studies to be taught to all wee'uns.

Stay Wise, Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin, Illustrations by Bingo Bufferbottom

Published by the Peregrin Family

1 minute ago, NotEvilAtAll said:

Mimosa Applefoot smiles "Good t'ae see t'ah ol' publishin' spirit is back wif us!"

The Cobbler's Goblet, Issue I

The Weefolk's Choice Herald

This Week's News!

Land Sharks Attack!

Huge Boom in Pumpkin Stocks

Pecan Pie: Delicious or Deadly?

Land Sharks Attack!

Written by Griff Peregrin

An illustration of the scene of the crime, by Bingo Bufferbottom.

Early this morning, several farmers going about their regular commute came across a horrifying sight! The severed head of an unidentifiable halfling, as well as several dismembered appendages, lay strewn across the grass directly outside of the shoreside wheatfield. After assessing the body, the farmers recognized several bite marks that seemed to be the cause of the injury. One halfling sailor has spoken about this matter, anonymously testifying: "This can nay be anythin' other than a shark, I'd reckon. The bite marks match up perfectly. Must be a big feller, too- they're huge!"

Furthermore, a strange sign also seemed to appear around the same time as the death of the farmer. Nailed upon a wooden post by the corpse now reads "BEWARE ARKAKNOX" in large lettering. Whoever this "Arkaknox" figure is, our reporters have surmised that it must be an aspect of Arugula that is now haunting the wheatfield, praying on the innocent. Next week, we will be featuring a private interview with Sheriff Nimblefoot on this matter, so stay tuned!

Huge Boom in Pumpkin Stocks

Written by Griff Peregrin

An illustration of the Dunwen Pumpkin Fields, by Bingo Bufferbottom.

Our financial analysts on the Halfling Agromarket have predicted a 27.5% upturn in the value of pumpkin supplies going into The Grand Harvest. It is believed this is due to the construction of the newly built Knox statue on the outskirts of Dunfarthing, with a vast number of pumpkins having been taken out of standard circulation. Pumpkin farmers and aficionados be advised.

Pecan Pie: Delicious or Deadly?

Written by Griff Peregrin

An illustration of the Dunfarthing Bakery, by Bingo Bufferbottom.

Many Halflings love the taste of delicious Pecan Pie, but is this sweet treat actually safe for consumption? New studies have shown that the halfling obesity epidemic is widely influenced by the consumption of sweet treats such as pecan pie. Halflings who die from gluttonous habits have been documented by bakers as having consumed up to sixteen pecan pies weekly, which may have been the primary cause of death. Studies are still being conducted into this topic, but all halflings are advised to avoid eating the pies until then.

Stay Wise, Dunwen!

Written by Griff Peregrin, Illustrations by Bingo Bufferbottom

Published by the Peregrin Family

common sal W

Burt and the Beanstalk

A detailed illustration of the vibrant Dúnwen Theater.

AUDITIONS OPEN

Come experience and participate in a story as old as the first Halfling shires. Follow a young Burt Buckleberry as he discovers the mystic potential hidden within Halfling agriculture, encounters dangerous and humongous foes, and eventually finds an item that has the power to save his shire!

All halflings and bigguns alike are welcome to fill out the following application to participate in one of the many auditioning periods for the play. Alternatively, all are welcome to volunteer to be a member of the production crew, which may entail: bartending, lighting, set design, and costumes. 

It takes a village to make magic, so don't be afraid to apply. Contact Griff Peregrin (MonkeNotic) with any questions or concerns.

Application Below

Name:

Race & Physical Traits:

Position Applying For (Actor/Production Crew):

Experience in Field:

(Discord):

Don't Miss Out!

Griff Peregrin found himself reclining lazily in the recedes of a lumbering elder oak, hands clutched loosely on the piece of worn parchment paper he had received as he glossed over it haphazardly. With his off hand, he took a lengthy grasp of pungent liquor from his rusted flask, his drunken eyes slowly grazing the words written upon the paper. It was upon a particular name that he found himself pausing, taking to a deep ponder. "Knew the bloke, did you, Gramps?" He said as he licked his lips fiendishly, now greedily scouring every word- nay, every letter- of the will regarding a certain Monkey Peregrin. It was upon reading the final words that he stopped, intent on reading it again. For nigh on twenty minutes, he found himself pondering what was written, before stopping entirely. "Not a lick for your best friend, ey... Callum?" He said, his pausing deriving from his need to reread what the dead man's name even was, "Not an ounce of sympathy? Eh? Cheapskate!" He then tossed the parchment to the wind, drinking himself deeper into his stupor...

Monkey Peregrin watched distantly as Callum found his way through the final gates, down the path of a different afterlife. He smiled. Even if they would never meet in their afterlife, he knew that his closest friend had found his way. "I' was 'n 'onor, brot'er. Rest easeh."

An Image of a large tent on the outskirts of Dunfarthing is sketched delicately on the missive.

ATTENTION WEEFOLK AND ASSOCIATES

Your village of Dunfarthing has been entered and won the raffle for the next location visited by the illustrious seer MAXAMILLIAN VON MACAVELI!

The seer has already arrived in your village and, with the help of his attendants, has begun preparations for a showing in the near future!

The seer is a renowned name throughout all of AEVOS, having been known for his exploits in discovering the sixteen alchemical functions of Harpy toes, as well as having predicted the results of every major Bucketball event for the last century!

DON'T MISS OUT!

The Gates Swing Open.

aegis #9

What are some strategies to becoming a better roleplayer overall

Thorondir will be your wife if you take him as a squire.

More details below.
 

"Good to see proper rulings for etiquette. We must uphold the standards of our great city," Thorondir commented while mid-combat with a giant bear.

Do you need a young, dashing and capable squire?

Well look no further!

[Thorondir, being dazzling as ever.]

"Raised in the boonies, Thorondir learned from a young age the value of modesty and humbleness. He's a true rags to riches story, overcoming all his obstacles. He'd make a great squire!" -Esteemed Journalist, Periwinkle Popbogey

I come to you looking only to serve in the name of God, The Radiant Star of Númendil, and His Majesty The Tar. I hope that any knights who see this would acknowledge my exploits in the foiling of the Gryphon Poachers within The Kingswood. I hope to uphold the golden standard of our great folk, as well as defend The White City of Númenost.

Interested?

Contact Thorondir today!

I've been in your playtest dungeon and it was pretty cool so im down with mechanical stuff

[!] It was upon that morning when Lily Peregrin spoke her final words and vanished into the ethereal. It would only be two hours later when an explosion of angry insects swarming around a beehive revealed a message in a bottle crammed within its honeyed interior. This message contained the last will and testament of Lily Peregrin.

The Vision from My Eyes

The Last Wisdom of Lily Peregrin

I did not lead a beloved life. None shall sing my name in their songs when I am rotting in the dirt. I shall be washed up and forgotten, restricted to merely a name on parchment in Halfling records. An obligatory inclusion within our fair folk's history. I was rude, blunt and plainly a pain in the arse of halflingkind. And yet, I stand proud, because I know in the end, I was the first domino in a new golden age of the weefolk.

It all began when I was a young'un in my twenties. I saw the Golden Age of my mother, Iris the Great, thrive and then extinguish. The prosperous time of Old Honeyhill came to an end with a swift stab from a biggun assassin. My mother lay dead in my arms behind that bokolo stable, and with her died the old Peregrin regime. The dynasty that was heralded as the greatest in halfling history. My older sister, Doctor Sorrel Peregrin, took the shovel's burden. As I grew up, I watched her wither and fade into a shell of her former self. She was not worthy of the position; I have always loved her, but I always knew it, even from that young age. She held not the mental fortitude it so required. I knew that I was the only one left who could do it; The dynasty must survive. Nothing could destroy the Peregrins, for we were chosen by Knox. I had seen the holiness that radiated about Iris, and heard the tales of her exploits, and I knew this to be true. And so, on that fateful night, I took Thainship. We burnt down the Old Honeyhill. It was a vestige of a bygone era; A standard of liveliness that I could never replicate. I only ever saw it as a graveyard after Iris died. We built New Honeyhill in the ruins of the old village, and it was beautiful. We began to bud as a society once more, opening up to a new spring of our people. I kept council of my trusted Elders; childhood friends and heirs of ancient Halfling houses such as mine. And yet, all was not well.

My most trusted advisor, Mimosa Applefoot, challenged my rule. I always thought myself superior to her, in truth; She was smart, but I always thought I was smarter. Her threats still scared me, however. The Applefoots were the founders of the Thain system, and before my mother returned our line to Arcas, they were a much more powerful and influential family. We had stolen their spotlight, and in my youthful ignorance, I thought she aspired to win back her ancestral title. My rage consumed me, anger at my betrayal, anger at the thought of my mother's legacy dying to the hands of my former friend. In Mimosa, I saw the face of that biggun assassin; A killer, ready to destroy all my family had. What was worse was the man on her side. Cyris Collingwood. I had heard stories about the insanity of this man from the days of Bramblebury; His delusions of kinghood, and claims that he was visited by Knox and given a crown. He denied the Knoxist religious teachings of the modern church and proposed his own, leaning on biggun ideologies. He was an enemy of Arugula, waiting to be swept into the tides for his heresy. And thus, I unleashed my rage at a peaceful debate. I threw the Thain Shovel for Mimosa's head in an act of blood rage, and with it, I surrendered my power.

In my act of defiance, my many supporters turned on me. My own daughter, Dolly Peregrin, voted against me. I was the last true Thain, a patriot of a bygone era of dictatorship. Democracy reinvigorated itself within the weefolk, that slow disease that rots away all it touches. The fuel for the fire of hatred and corruption. The spear that brought down Bramblebury. The system that my brother, Monkey Peregrin, fought to cleanse and destroy. In my ignorance and passion, I had allowed it to fester once more, and thus allowed myself to be vanquished. And so, they shall remember me as a tyrant. They shall see me as the last barrier against progress and reform. They shall see me as Lily the Terrible.

But perhaps I was wrong, in the end. The weefolk have found new stride under their new leadership, and have prospered far more than they ever could under my tutilege. Maybe it took the end of the First Peregrin Dynasty to reset the board. To provide a blank slate for our circle of life to continue. What haunts me, deep down, is that I shall never know. I will never see the outcome of my legacy, nor will I be able to study it, like I so studied the politics of our kind throughout the ages. I leave this mantle to my children. I still believe that The Peregrins were led back to the greater halfling race for a reason. I still feel the ripe energy of Knox pulsing through my blood, even as it grows stale and cold. My last message to my descendants is this: bear witness to what has transpired in this age, and use it as your weapon. See our faults and adapt. Win back that damnable shovel.

I bid you all fond farewell. Do what I could not.

Dolly Peregrin

The Greater Peregrin Family
 

Cyris Collingwood
 

Mimosa Applefoot
 

Magnolia Fiddleberry
 

The Weefolk of The Realm

PRAISE KNOX
LONG LIVE THE PEREGRINS

[!] The People of Dunfarthing would find posters plastered on practically every door, window and wall within the village. All of them would detail the following message.

The Peregrin's Potluck

Attention Folk of Fair Dunfarthing,

I, Lily Peregrin, alongside your Thain-King, Cyris Collingwood, extend an invitation to every Halfling, Gnome, Musin and Man of the Realm of Aevos. All folk from every reach of our New World is welcome to come drink and be merry! We shall indulge in many Halfling traditions and festivities, such as pumpkin carving, shogging and, of course, merrymaking!

Thain-King Cyris Collingwood urges everyone to come, for the festivities shall end with an announcement of incredible importance.

We shall gather and celebrate upon
The Sixth Day of The Pumpkin Week,

Upon the 14th Hour Past the Moon's Pinnacle
 

We hope to see you there!

Sincerely,
Lily Peregrin, Matriarch of The Most Noble and Ancient House of Peregrin

Thain-King Cyris Collingwood, Lord of Dunwen and its lesser realms