Pissmog

Maplewood is one that I think sounds Halfling-y, but you guys choose what you want! If Hobbiton is what you want, choose Hobbiton. -SuperSodapops

]] (Shoot, I should have made my character David Bowie. D:)

A disgusting creature, what looks to be a bard, begins to sing in the dark corner of the shady tavern that you stand in. You take a sip of amber ale that is much too warm, trying to ignore the "bard's" voice. It sings out of pitch and its voice is much too scratchy to sound beautiful, and it has a ringing that leaves your head in pain. The "singer", as you look, turns out to be a putrid little goblin. His song leaps from his jagged, bony throat, in a voice that is too loud. "SKIN IS RED, TOUGH AS NAILS, BLOOD'S RED TOO, HE TEARS THROUGH MAIL, CUTS YOUR THROAT, STEALS YOUR SWORD, TAKES YOUR GOLD TO HIS MOUNTAINOUS HORDE! PISSMOG! THE GOBLIN-KING! PISSMOG! THE GOBLIN-KING! EYES ARE YELLOW, BURN LIKE FLAME, HIS FIGHTS AIN'T MELLOW, HE PLAYS A STRONG GAME, STABS YOUR NECK, BLOOD IT SPILLS, MESS WITH HIM, YOU WILL BE KILLED! PISSMOG! THE GOBLIN-KING! PISSMOG! THE GOBLIN-KING! SWORD IS SHARP, CUTS YOUR THROAT, ONCE YOU ARE DEAD, HE THROWS YOU IN THE MOAT, MAKES HILLS OF BODIES, HIS THRONE'S ON TOP, ONCE HE BEGINS, HE NEVER STOPS! PISSMOG! THE GOBLIN-KING! PISSMOG! THE GOBLIN-KING!" The little green goblin runs off, cackling. You didn't like the singing one bit - nobody did. But later, after you've had a few drinks, a thought creeps into your mind. Who is this Pissmog? Might you run into him later? Hopefully not... You, if you're the lucky type, don't run into Pissmog as you walk home in a drunk daze that night. However, the man sitting next to you, did. He encountered Pissmog at the Witching Hour - just before the dawn broke, and this is the last thing he saw before his life was brought to an unfortunate end.

http://youtu.be/3Ncg4v2zYgw The Paper Kites are a band from Australia I saw not too long ago opening for City & Colour, they do very mellow indie folk. Check them out if you're into that stuff!

((Thanks for taking the time to look at it, man!))

A small leather-bound book lay upon the table of a tavern you wander into, you are unsure of whether or not is there by fate or by chance - though should you be of a 'curious' type, you might unbuckle the strap that holds its pages closed, and read what knowledge lays inside. A Study on the Conquered Lands written by Ferrin in the year 1448 This writing entails my studies on a pressing matter: the lands conquered by the force known as "The Black Scourge". As soon as I had heard of the Cloud Temple being destroyed by this enemy, I began my studying and field-work. Mere days after I had finished exploring and pondering over what I investigated, I heard word of the valley of Lenfarthing being decimated and destroyed. I performed more work there, as soon as I had concluded in the Cloud Temple. Now, I shall begin by showing my work upon the once Cloud Temple of the Wilven Monks. The Cloud Temple As I entered the land that once held the Sanctuary, I first noticed the dark clouds that hung overhead. They occasionally dropped precipitation - both snow and ice - and smote their fiery lightning among the hills of the valley without end. Thunder could be heard bounding throughout all the hills during my stay. I also noticed a bitter cold (luckily I was wearing my cloak, which is lined with spined feasel fur) that did not cease to bite at me throughout my time in that cursed place. The most notable difference in the valley, besides the ruins of the old Temple, was a large, floating spire formed of ice and ash and what seemed to be many dark stones - as well as other red stones that floated around its high peaks. Lava poured from the edges of this tower and spilled into the old riverbed that ran throughout the valley, making it dangerous to walk around. I rested my nights and even some weary days inside a tent near this 'lava river', because it was the warmest place I could find. I made many efforts to climb up this tower, yet they all were in vain. Every time I made it near, I would slip upon the ice and fall down, luckily it was not from any high places. The floating spire seems to be unbreachable, but perhaps the mechanical minds of the Dwarven folk can plan a way to bring it closer to the ground for further study. Perhaps the most important discovery or observation I made at this icy wasteland was the similarities it bore to an Old Evil, an enemy that fought the races of this earth many years ago... But that is just an old man's hunch, and I will not write about it until I find further evidence to confirm or support it. Lenfarthing Now, I spent much less time at Lenfarthing, for this place was less bearable. There was no warmth, even in the 'hearty' old inn that was once the main function of the Halfling town. It seems that the destruction caused by the Black Scourge was enough to break down the welcoming spirit of the Hobbitfolk, and for that I grieve. Much like at the Cloud Temple, a large spire was inhabiting the ruins of the town. This tower was run by some dark magic, large shards of ice and red rocks floated about the top of the tower, twirling and swirling like massive birds. Luckily, however, this tower was touching the ground, so I could observe its base. Unluckily, however, the tower was much too cold and dangerous - hence the flying shards of ice - to be climbed. Yet because of that, I made another discovery: the red rocks, the ones that I also saw at the Cloud Temple, are a source of cold, it seems. An unkempt sketch of the Lenfarthing Spire is drawn here. As I neared them, for they were scattered all about the poor town, I sensed a chilliness. I know not if it is caused by some sort of evil arcane entity or if they are a natural substance from deep within the earth, but I know that they are malevolent and dangerous. I would reckon that standing within ten feet of them would end in death by freezing, they are that powerful. It was because of these stones that my life was saved, in fact! A pack of wolves began to chase me at one point, and they ran right towards the red stones (or as I call them, Bloodstones), and to my dismay the wolves were frozen solid where they stood! I pray that these stones, should their power be harnessed, might make for a good weapon against this Black Scourge. Maybe we can give them a taste of their own medicine. Clouds also covered this land, and storms were commonplace to encounter. It was, bluntly said, cold. However, as a final observation, I noticed a small yellow flower growing upon the top of a hill... I know not how, for it was barely warm enough for even I to live, and there was no sunlight besides may ten or twenty minutes throughout the day, but as sure as I have a beard, this flower was there! I see it as a good sign, that life is moving on despite the destruction that the Black Scourge has caused... May we see that as a small beacon of hope for our future. I know little else upon the subject of these attacks, but my writings are true - I wrote only upon fact, upon what I observed. As a final note, I would suggest that, when fighting in defense against the Black Scourge, fire might be a useful tool against them. They embrace the cold, perhaps it is time we use heat to fight them back. - Ferrin And so the last words upon the last page show, and the book ends. What will you do? Spread the word, and show your allies? Set it back down, and do nothing? Wonder what in Anthos it was talking about? It matters not... What matters is - the choice is yours.