FISHWRAP MAGAZINE
"Our last, best hope for peace"

Issue #37: "Crash, Bang, Splort, Yazack"
[April 12, 2001]
Circulation: 150

Fishwrap Magazine is available on the World Wide Webscrolly-thingy.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fishwrapmagazine
You can subscribe here and also read all the back issues.

#####
SPONSORS

This issue of the Fishwrap Magazine is brought to you by the following
sponsors:
* Clan Rising Claw:
http://www.risingclaw.com/
* Babajaga the Sylvan:
http://www.red-quill.com/babajaga/
* Sor, for Sun Dragon Clan:
http://www.sundragonclan.com
* Quest Tracker, for all your quest-related information:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ClanLordQuestTracker
* Fishmonger: Puddleby's News Kiosk:
http://www.geocities.com/mikeswanson_98/fishmonger.html
* Paramedic's Notebook: Fire Drake battle pictures now available
http://www.geocities.com/mikeswanson_98/
* ClanLords:
http://www.clanlords.com

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THOOM HEADLINE NEWS
THE NEWS IN BRIEF FOR BUSY EXILES
"Fishwrap Magazine: Thoom News You Can Use"

brought to you by Fishwrap reporters:
* Rizal the Thoom, ThoomCare member, is now a third circle healer
* Mystara, Cradlesong, and Tara have become ThoomCare Affiliates
* Gift shop is open
* Room discovered in the Muddy North Forest rose

brought to you by Norm's Diary
* Logs provide a way to escape Umbion's Isle?
* The mysterious Doikk
* Foothills expeditions continue
for more information on the above stories, see Norm's Adventures
http://members.aol.com/NormsDiary

brought to you by Koric's Journal
* Exiles travel Dal'Noth Island
* Horus healing and teaching
* Chamelopod Forest rescues
* Gigantic Feral Swarm
* "Two logs of wood and a barrel full of tar"
for more information in the above stories, see Koric's Journal
http://dingram.phys.tcu.edu/koric.html

brought to you by Babajaga's Diary:
* Travels to the Ethereal Plane
* Sutai's workout
for more information on the above stories, see Babajaga's Diary
http://www.red-quill.com/babajaga/

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NEWS FEATURES

Court records:
Clerus says, "Case #pcl_0541_172_14_30 on 82 Spring, 541 at 15:29..."
Clerus says, "Alknelt accused Infectus of attempted kidnapping of Algy,
a defenceless...."
Clerus says, "The verdict was guilty; 51 minutes in jail, 237c fine and
0 days banished."
---
Clerus says, "Case #pcl_0541_184_14_05 on 4 Summer, 541 at 14:58..."
Clerus says, "Delirium accused Malkor of murdering Bouncy..."
Clerus says, "The verdict was innocent."
---
Clerus says, "Case #pcl_0541_200_17_41 on 20 Summer, 541 at 18:41..."
Clerus says, "Zephyrus accused Richard Simmons of disturbing the town
quite a bit..."
Clerus says, "The verdict was frivolous; 116 minutes in jail, 478c fine
and 0 days banished."
---
Clerus says, "Case #pcl_0541_205_10_14 on 25 Summer, 541 at 10:58..."
Clerus says, "Dr Malthus accused Moe of Assault and Attempted
Murder..."
Clerus says, "The verdict was innocent."

Election results:
#181: Should the town square of Puddleby be remodeled to look more
inviting?
32 (49%): Yes, I'm sick of sitting in mud!
4 (6%): No, I love soiling myself...
21 (32%): Maybe, it depends on how it might look.
3 (5%): None of the above
2 (3%): None of the above
3 (5%): Abstain
#182: What should the Island Umbrion dwells on be called?
7 (11%): "Damn, I Got Killed By an LSW" Island ("DIGCBaLSW"I)
5 (8%): "Island Whose Name We Cannot Agree On Though It Should Be Short
and Concise" (IWNWCAOTISBSaC)
7 (11%): "Evil Place of Pyromaniac (not to be confused with the exile
Pyromaniac) Brother of Tenebrion" (EPoP(ntbcwteP)BoT)
38 (59%): None of the above
7 (11%): Abstain

The Gubara report:
Gubara says, "The most esteemed citizens are: Algernon, Aival, Amarais
Fina."
Gubara says, "The most reviled citizens are: Algernon."

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HELP WANTED

Fishwrap Magazine is looking for a few more contributors, reporters and
advertisers.

Advertising rates are quite affordable. Your ad will be read by well
over 150 exiles!

Sponsorships: only 25 coins
Full ads: only 50 coins

#####
THOOM WITH A VIEW
BY PARAMEDIC THE THOOM

Clans continue to submit their Clan Profiles. This issue we have one
from the Hearts of Tan.

A member from each clan can submit an article on his or her clan,
describing it in some detail. I'd like to see special focus on:

Origin/foundation story
Clan principles
Events
Members
Future plans
Location of clan scrolls (if available)

These profiles will run in Fishwrap free of charge to exiles as a
public service paid for by the ThoomCare Media Network.

Nuba Yo!

-Para

#####
FEATURE INTERVIEW: TYKING II
BY PARAMEDIC THE THOOM

Paramedic asks, "How are you getting along with Tenebrion these days?"
Tyking II says, "I have to admit, it's not as good as when you first
interviewed me"
Tyking II says, "He's lied to me..."
Paramedic asks, "Oh really?"
Paramedic says, "Hm"
Tyking II says, "Gotten me killed, and showed no care"
Paramedic says, "That's not good"
Tyking II says, "And he hasn't contacted me in a LONG time"
Paramedic asks, "Do you think something has happened to him?"
Tyking II says, "No..."
Tyking II says, "If something happened to Tenebrion, someone would
notice"
Tyking II says, "His guards are fine"
Paramedic asks, "What do you think is keeping him occupied?"
Tyking II says, "Perhaps he is trying to strengthen the spells of
protection around his other brother's islands"
Tyking II says, "Which one, I do not know"
Paramedic says, "Hrmmm."
Tyking II says, "Maybe Lugubrion"
Paramedic asks, "What is your impression of Umbrion?"
(Tyking II covers his mouth)
Tyking II says, "Oops"
Tyking II says, "I wasnt supposed to say that.."
Tyking II says, "Ah well"
Paramedic asks, "Lugubrion?"
Tyking II asks, "Umbrion?"
Tyking II asks, "Lugubrion?"
Tyking II says, "Who's Lugubrion?"
Tyking II says, "I don't know any Lugubrion"
Paramedic says, "hmm"
Tyking II asks, "What was the next question?"
Paramedic asks, "ok then, what do you think of Umbrion?""
Tyking II asks, "Umbrion?"
Paramedic says, "yes, Umbrion"
Tyking II asks, "UmBrIoN?"
Tyking II asks, "UMBRION?"
Paramedic says, "Yeah, Umbrion"
Tyking II yells, "DIE UMBRION!"
Tyking II asks, "That answer your question?"
Paramedic says, "You don't seem to like him much"
Tyking II says, "Oh ya, oh ya"
Tyking II says, "I despise his very being"
Paramedic asks, "Is he evil?"
Tyking II says, "Yes"
Paramedic asks, "So should exiles go to Umbion's Island?"
Tyking II says, "In very large numbers, yes"
Tyking II says, "I want him dead"
Tyking II says, "And his keep destroyed"
Tyking II exclaims, "His guards, dead!"
Paramedic asks, "So you think he is that bad?"
Tyking II exclaims, "Worse than bad!"
Tyking II exclaims, "Despicable!"
Tyking II exclaims, "Horrible!"
Tyking II exclaims, "Terrible!"
Tyking II exclaims, "Zipzoopazorrible!"
Paramedic says, "That's not good"
Tyking II says, "He wants to burn down Puddleby"
Tyking II says, "And trust me, he can"
(Tyking II rubs the burn mark on his arm)
Tyking II says, "Umbrion gave me that"
Paramedic says, "That looks painful"
Tyking II says, "You betcha"
Tyking II says, "I'm standing in the conference room waiting"
Tyking II says, "And suddenly..."
Tyking II exclaims, "KABOOM!"
Tyking II says, "A stream of fire hits me and burns me to a crisp"
Paramedic says, "That is definitely bad"
Paramedic asks, "Tyking, have you been to Umbrion's Island?"
Tyking II says, "No."
Paramedic asks, "You consider Umbrion's Island dangerous?"
Tyking II says, "Yes"
(Paramedic nods)
Tyking II says, "Very much so"
Tyking II says, "Tenebrion warned me of it..."
Tyking II says, "Before Puddleby even knew about Umbrion's Island"
Paramedic says, "hmm"
Paramedic asks, "Do you know anything about the other brothers?"
Tyking II says, "A few things"
Tyking II says, "I know their names"
(Paramedic listens)
Tyking II says, "That they each have their own islands"
(Paramedic listens)
Tyking II says, "That they can kill someone beyond departablility"
Paramedic says, "Ack, that would be bad"
Tyking II says, "And that they would have killed me had I been present
during the 'brion meeting."
Tyking II says, "That's about it."
Paramedic asks, "So they have threatened you in the past?"
Tyking II says, "Yes."
Tyking II says, "They are not as friendly as Tenebrion."
Paramedic says, "Ah, I see."
Paramedic asks, "Do you think Tenebrion is still conducting experiments
with Purgatory?"
Tyking II says, "He hasn't mentioned it lately"
Paramedic says, "That's interesting"
Paramedic asks, "Maybe they never worked out?"
Tyking II says, "I think he's trying to do something about the things
we're doing to the Ethereal Plane"
Paramedic asks, "He does not like exiles going to the Ethereal plane?"
Tyking II says, "I don't know"
Paramedic says, "Hmm."
Paramedic asks, "Have you been on an Ethereal Plane trip?"
Tyking II says, "I went on one, but never got to the plane itself"
Paramedic says, "Same here."
Tyking II says, "I have contacts who have been there though"
Paramedic asks, "What did they tell you?"
Tyking II says, "They informed me of what happened during the trips"
Tyking II says, "About the ethereal sword"
(Paramedic listens)
Tyking II says, "The monsters that lurk on the plane..."
Paramedic says, "It sounds quite dangerous there"
Tyking II says, "The pentagon snells, which I think is of a greater
importance than they think"
Paramedic asks, "oh really?"
Tyking II says, "It's the small things that make a big difference"
Paramedic asks, "So you recommend checking those out more?"
Tyking II says, "Yes."
(Paramedic makes a note of that)
Paramedic says, "Ok, one last question...."
(Tyking II nods)
Paramedic asks, "Where do you think things are ultimately going with
Puddleby and Tenebrion and his brothers? A big confrontation?"
Tyking II says, "One word."
(Paramedic listens)
Tyking II says, "Kaboom."
Paramedic asks, "Do you think exiles are prepared?"
Tyking II says, "Crash, bang, splort, yazack, the basic idea"
Tyking II says, "Nope"
Tyking II says, "Not at all"
Paramedic asks, "Do you think they could become prepared? Do they have
a chance?"
Tyking II says, "They have no idea how powerful Umbrion is"
Tyking II says, "They could..."
(Paramedic listens)
Tyking II says, "Maybe the shield holds the key..."
Paramedic asks, "Which shield?"
Tyking II says, "A Tenebrionic shield"
Tyking II says, "Tenebrion has gotten Dan'dura'a to make one for me"
Paramedic asks, "Hm, to fend off Tenebrion?"
Paramedic asks, "Do you have it already?"
Tyking II says, "Nope"
Paramedic asks, "But you hope to get it soon?"
Tyking II says, "Yes"
Paramedic says, "Excellent. Let us know how that works out."
Tyking II says, "And when I do, I'll notify the fishwrap first :-)"
Paramedic says, "Thanks for a great interview, Tyking. As always it was
very interesting"
Tyking II says, "Thank you."

#####
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Did Vagile say free??? Yes!!! The Puddleby Navy in underwriting this
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this massively expensive undertaking.

Vagile would like to urge all Navy members to set a good example and
get their check-ups done early to set an excellent example to the rest
of the citizenary.

#####
CLAN PROFILE: THE HEARTS OF TAN
EXCERPTS FROM AN INTERVIEW WITH KARKRAS TANHEART
BY CALCHAS

Calchas: How did the Hearts of Tan come to be?

Karkras: Before the Hearts of Tan, there was the Tan Team. Five of us
newly-exiled bumped into each other one evening and headed off to the
hive together. We had fought our way through a nearly endless wave of
myrms, when we looked at each other and saw we were all wearing Tan
clothes. We were proud of our accomplishment, as bloody and out of
breath as we were, the hive's denizens were so much cracked carapace at
our feet. At that moment, some common thread in our lives and fates
intersected, and as if with a single voice, we all cried "Tan Team!"
At that instant, though we didn't know it at the time, was the genesis
of the Heart of Tan.

Calchas: You say that as if the Heart of Tan is an entity that was
born.

Karkras: I believe that. The Heart of Tan is greater than any one of
us; it is greater than the sum of us. The Heart of Tan more even, than
a synergy of our collected spirits. It is an ideal; it is an energy;
it is hope and optimism; it is fidelity, honor, and fellowship; it is
reason and reward. When we declare that our "Hearts beat Tan," it means
that we are infused by these principles... A Heart of Tan does more
than carry our lifeblood -- it gives our lives meaning, our spirits
hope, and our paths direction.

Calchas: After the genesis, how did the Tan Team become the Hearts of
Tan?

Karkras: We told each other that we should found a clan but we didn't
know the hows, whos, or whats. We had a lot of questions, but few
answers. Because of this, the idea languored for a little while, even
though we were exploring and discovering together every day. We all
wanted the clan to be "democratic," but no one stepped forward with a
comprehensive, unified vision. It was then that I realized that the
Heart of Tan was what unified us, so I drafted up the original Tan
Project scroll which attempted to define ourselves and our principles.
Some of the Tan Team thought the document was heavy-handed,
undemocratic, and hypocritical, so they left us. The remaining Tan Team
ratified the vision and we worked hard over the next couple of weeks to
raise the money for the founding fees. We did accept small
contributions, but we decided not to ask for coins; we wanted the
strength of our convictions to speak for us; with all of us barely-
trained newlings it was a daunting quest, but one that brought us
together, one that made us very proud to accomplish.

Calchas: I heard that the Tan Team almost had a very different destiny.

Karkras: That's true. At first, with only 7-10 on the Team and no
banner to rally around yet, we took a proposal to the Silver Drakes.
In response, they offered to make the Tan Team a chapter of their clan,
"the Tan Talon." When we inspected this alternative more closely,
however, we realized that we had become a distinct entity, and voted
unanimously to follow our hearts, to become the Hearts of Tan.

Calchas: You began by wearing tan clothes, and your Clan's name and
color is Tan; why don't your members wear Tan?

Karkras: I hear that question so much! I'm glad you asked though. We
are "the Hearts of Tan"-- we are not "the Clothes of Tan." For the
same reason that the Winds of Dawn do not go naked flying around on
gusts of wind, and for the same reason that not every member Dwarven
Militia is a dwarf, we do not have to wear cheap tan clothes: we are
unified by a Set of Principles and Ideals, not by a uniform. All
Dwarven Militia are dwarfs at heart. We are Tan at Heart!

But it is no coincidence that we are "Tan" and our first shirts on this
island are Tan. Nearly everyone remembers their first days in
Puddleby, when everything was new and the world was endless, full of
danger and challenge, with beasts to overcome, and a frontier to
explore. That time is what we Hearts refer to as the "Tan Time": the
sense of wonder and vital excitement that new exiles feel during that
time, the strong bonds of friendship and fellowship that are formed,
the exhilarating surges felt in their hearts as they face danger and
vanquish foes; all these elements of the Tan Time we hold as ideals, we
also hold in our Hearts. Our actions and our Hearts are what make us
Tan -- not the color of our shirts.

Calchas: You've talked about "the Heart of Tan" as a guiding force, but
how would you describe your Clan itself?

Karkras: Our Clan was founded based on the principles of Fellowship,
Fidelity, and Honor. The Hearts of Tan hold the wonder and excitement
of the newly-exiled as an ideal, and constantly strive to achieve and
maintain this ideal through exploration, embracing and assisting those
new to Lok-Groton, and continuously seeking opportunities, pushing
boundaries & expanding frontiers in both self development and
development of the Clan as a unified, dynamic entity.

Calchas: Does the Hearts of Tan have any special Clan Events or
Activities?

Karkras: We hold a Clan Meeting and Hunt every Zodiac, and a General
Election every other Spring. Our Chief Treasurer schedules Fund-
Raising Hunts, and our Clan Expeditions Leader plans and schedules
special exploration expeditions (we're currently focused on the secrets
of Devil's Island). We also have three other Events/Activities in the
works.

Calchas: What is a cross-section of your Clan's Membership?

Karkras: The Hearts of Tan comprise 29 exiles, including 16 fighters,
12 healers, and 1 mystic. All but 6 of us are Second Circle in our
respective Guilds; 5 are still First Circle; the pride of our clan
currently lies with Medissa, who just passed into the Healers' Third
Circle. We have 3 Lords, one of which is a talented Bard.

Calchas: You mentioned earlier that you have other events "in the
works" for the future. Can you share some details?

Karkras: [chuckles] Sure. We are planning a series of HeartQuests for
Tanmates. The first is mainly for New Hearts: the "Egg Run," in which
the New Heart must retrieve an egg from the Hive. The second involves
our "Mirror-Rose Circuit" race. The third involves the "Tan Lok-Groton
Lore Challenge." Other ideas we have been throwing around involve a
"Gauntlet" run, a Relay-Drinking contest, Scroll-Writing, and Puzzle
Challenge. Tanmates who are successful in the various HeartQuests will
receive a special medal. Oh, and we hope to take part in the Dun'ilsar
competitions one day soon.

Calchas: Where can an exile find the Hearts of Tan Webscrolls?

Karkras: They are easily accessable at http://www.tanhearts.org

Calchas: Thank you for talking with me today, Karkras!

Karkras: My Pleasure, Calchas! May the Tan Light forever Illuminate
your Path.

#####
FISHWRAP FISHCTION

This issue we have two entries of fiction from exiles.

First, "Exiled", Part One, by Odesseus. Then a story by Leogic.

EXILED
BY ODESSEUS

Prologue

T'rryll cursed quietly as he rubbed the lump on his head. A loud bang
had awoken him from his sleep, causing him to sit bolt upright in this
confined area, resulting in cracking his head on a low beam. The boat
creaked and rolled, as it had done for the past two weeks. T'rryll
strained to open his gummy eyes. Dim light filtered through a couple of
cracks in the deck above, casting a vague light about his small hiding
space. He tried to swallow, his tongue coated and swollen.

More bangs and loud shouts came down to him. A dim hope of getting off
this reeking, rocking prison rekindled in his breast. Fresh air!
Sunlight! Water by the gallon! Such dim dreams they seemed to be. But
the noise died down and his hope died with it.

How he arrived here was a folly of errors. He shook his head at his
predicament as he settled down to return to sleep.

Chapter 1

Their journey started out simply enough. He and seven others headed
east, the rolling hills of his homeland giving way to open desert. In a
couple of weeks, this in turn came to forest that contained small
hamlets filled with people of different races. They were so unlike his
own. Trryll had seen some before near his home, but very few. It made
him uncomfortable. Their hairless bodies and rubbery faces seemed
repulsive. Add to that their flat, harsh speech in a language that
Tryll could barely understand gave him an impression that these races
were unsophisticated, even though he was told otherwise. They had,
after all, conquered his own homeland hundreds of years ago, uniting
the land in an oppressive monarchy called the Ascendency.

The small band threaded their way carefully though the forests,
speaking to those who knew of their purpose, being guided by their
information. Their task was a treacherous one, for at any turn
sympathizers to the Ascendency might give them up to the authorities.
Bounty was to be had for such deeds, vile as they were. They pressed
on, cautiously, fearing the worst at every step.

What they sought was straightforward, but not simple to be had. A few
of their kin had disappeared, important members of a secret clan who
were also part of an underground insurgency to overthrow the Emperor
Mobius, the leader of the Ascendency. They had gone out on a journey to
meet with other members of the group and had not returned. To find them
and, if possible, to help them get back was their goal.

Arr'n was their leader, a middling-aged fen with keen eyes. She alone
knew where they were headed, who to talk to. Trryll and the half-dozen
others were along as protectors and facilitators. They knew nearly
nothing of their mission, only to stand in the way of anything that may
try to harm Arr'n and, with their own lives, allow her to escape. If
they were captured, they knew nothing to divulge no matter the torture.
Arr'n, too, was expendable, for if she were captured she would take her
own life to protect others.

For many weeks they made their way east, sleeping in barns and hollows
in the ground, their cloaks pulled around them where they approached
other people, taking the guise of wandering monks,ever watchful. They
kept their distance, hiding their differences deep in their hoods. Fen
do not wander these parts idly, and their appearance could easily lead
to suspicion. Suspicion would inevitably lead to capture.

Eventually, the trail they followed led them to the east coast of the
continent. How far they had come! Trryll raised his nose and deeply
inhaled the salt-tanged air. They must be nearing the mission's end.
How much further could they go? They approached the outskirts of a
small port town and set up camp, meager as it was.

It seemed like a simple task. Slip into town, find a certain shop and
obtain a small scroll containing some information and return. Arrn had
asked Trryll to do this because he was one of the smaller of the group
and may attract the least attention.

Head down and hood pulled over, shuffling his step, paws tucked into
sleeves, Trryll made his way along the streets. Some of the inhabitants
mumbled greetings, mistaking him for some religious person. He nodded
his head slightly in acknowledgement. He kept his tail carefully
wrapped about one leg, even though it wanted to twitch with the tension
he felt.

Finally coming into the desired shop, he slipped inside the open door.
Behind the counter was a portly human male, idly flipping through a
small bound volume. He looked up as Trryll entered.

"Ah, good day, friar, how may I help you?"

Trryll replied with a set phrase. "I'm here about the Vethpian orb," he
lisped softly in the common tongue.

The man nodded once quickly, slipped from around the counter and closed
and locked the shop door. Trryll was instantly alert.

"Just so we won't be disturbed," the shopkeeper said, as if sensing
Trryll's alarm. "I have what you seek. But first... are you Fen'neko?"

Trryll winced slightly at the horrible mispronunciation of his race's
name, but nodded.

"Please," the man said, "I've never seen a fen. Would it be too much to
ask?"

Trryll considered this a moment and looked at the single, small window
in the shop. It was shuttered. Reaching up, he pulled back his hood. He
raised his flattened ears. His large, green eyes glittered in the dim
light. The human gave a slight gasp.

"You look just like a cat!" exclaimed the man.

Trryll raised a lip and snarled slightly as he pulled the hood back
over his head. "I come not here be insulted." His eyes glowed at the
shopkeeper from the depths of the hood.

The shopkeeper waved his hands to try and placate Trryll, "Oh, I'm
sorry, sorry! I know how fen hate that comparison. It was a slip. Your
features are quite striking. As I said, I'd never seen a fen before.
Your people rarely leave your homeland. I've heard traveler's tales
only."

The shopkeeper bowed slightly. "Thank you for your indulgence, and
please pardon this foolish man."

Trryll inclined his head as the man slipped back behind the counter. "I
have the scroll right here. I must say, things have been odd around
town lately." The fellow was in a chatty mood, possibly trying to make
up for his egregious error.

"Normally, we only get a couple of trade ships in every zodiac. You
know, the usual stuff, food, drink, some metals and the like. Well,
lately, things have changed."

The shopkeeper leaned forward on the counter and lowered his voice.
"Black ships have been coming into our little port. Quite large ones.
They buy up a large amount of supplies and stand in port for a few
days. Then, when the night turns moonless, they slip out to sea."

Trryll's curiosity and confusion must have registered even within his
hood, for the shopkeep nodded slightly. "Aye, mysterious, eh? And what
is even more mysterious is the rumor that the final cargo for the ship
is loaded just before it sets sail, under the same moonless dark." The
shopkeeper lowered his voce even further, "They say that cargo is
people!"

"Err?" responded Trryll drawing back, "Sssslavesss?"

The shopkeeper shrugged. "Some say..."

A muffled knock from the back of the back of the shop interrupted the
man's theorizing. "Ah, I'm expecting a small delivery. Please wait just
a moment while I attend to it." The shopkeeper opened a door to a
backroom and shut it after he passed through.

The young fen was getting restless of this endless chatter, wanting to
fulfill his small duty and return to his friends. But he waited
patiently, his eyes roaming about the room looking at the dreary goods.

The door was suddenly flung open and Trryll jerked his head up. A
strangled cry came from the backroom and the shopkeeper flew backwards
through the door, crashing into the counter and knocking it over. A
sharp tang came to Trryll's nose as a huge figure ducked through the
door and stood as upright as it could. It still crouched in the shop
to keep from hitting its head on the ceiling. Now it was Trryll's turn
to gape.

The Ghorak Zo glowered at Trryll. Although stooping, Trryll estimated
the being to be nearly eight feet tall. These were the creatures that
aided Emperor Mobius in bringing about his homeland's downfall,
brought from some alien land far away. It was the first time he had
seen one. The Zo dominated the confined space. "I'll have a word with
you," it rumbled, as it stepped over the unconscious body of the
shopkeeper.

Trryll slashed with his extended claws at the arm that reached toward
him. The Zo recoiled in pain and shock. "You little vermine!" it
yelled, then bellowed an ear shattering roar and tried to grab the fen.
Trryll dove under the huge arms and sprang through the small window.
Wood and glass splintering as he rolled to his feet outside the shop.
Another Zo waiting in the alley spotted him and bellowed "You there!
Stop!"

His tattered cloak flying behind him, Tryll let out a raging snarl to
clear his way as he ran out of the alley and through the crowds of
townspeople. A woman screamed and dropped her load at the sight of him.
The people stared at he sped by them. From behind him one of the Zo's
yelled "Stop that creature!" but none got in his way.

Pelting down alleyways, Trryll could hear his pursuers hot on his
trail. Although he twisted and turned, the Ghorak Zo seemed to know
where he was headed. He remembered hearing something abut Zo having a
keen sense of smell, as well. They were tracking him.

The alley he was following opened out onto a dock. Piles of goods were
stacked, ready to be loaded onto a waiting ship. The ship was black.
Trryll cursed silently to himself as he swung up a dock rope and landed
quietly on the deck. A few sailors were milling about but none had
spotted him. An open hatchway beckoned. He soundlessly sped down the
stairs, quickly testing doors as he went. At the end of the short hall
one opened to a well-appointed cabin with a wide sweep of small windows
set into the back wall looking out over the harbor. Quickly casting
about he spotted a small bookcase up on the front wall that was
slightly ajar, revealing a compartment behind it. He slipped into the
small space and pulled the bookcase nearly closed.

Trryll quieted his breathing and tried to calm his pounding heart as he
sat in the gloom, pushing himself as far back from the opening as
possible. For the small opening, the space was fairly large, about four
times his size, but low ceilinged. Small casks and boxes filled a good
deal of the space. Quietly shifting some of the boxes to shield himself
from a direct view of the opening, he settled down to wait for a while.
He hoped the Zo would lose his trail and allow him to slip back out and
away. He will have failed his mission, but kept his life.

Fairly soon he heard footsteps coming his way. Trryll heard the door to
the cabin open and close, then a distinct sound of a lock being turned.
The occupant distractedly hummed as he busied himself about the
quarters. Trrylll breathed very shallowly as he glimpsed the form of a
human male pass back and forth in front of the open slit of the
bookcase.

From above, Trryll heard the growling rumble of the Ghorak Zo.
Apparently they had followed his trace to the ship, or perhaps,
thought it was a likely spot he might have hidden. The young fen's
heart sped up again at the prospect of meeting up with those giants.
Apparently the human had heard it as well, for the humming suddenly
stopped.

Hard-soled feet hammered down the galleyway and came up short to the
locked door. There was a knock. "Captain!" came a muffled voice, "There
are some bounty hunters up here looking for someone. They want to talk
to you. They seem like they're in a big hurry."

The captian swore under his breath, "Zos! They'll be the death of me,
yet!" Raising his voice the captain replied, "Very well! Tell them I'll
be up momentarily!"

"Aye, captain," came the reply and the feet quickly retreated back up
the galleyway.

Muttering to himself, the captain hastily moved about the cabin,
gathering things up. The opening to the compartment was suddenly thrown
wide open, and Trryll quickly ducked down behind the boxes. Books,
rolled up charts and a couple of small boxes were uncermoniously dumped
into the compartment, then the door shut, enclosing him in near-total
darkness. Trryll's breath stopped short as he heard the sound of two
locking bolts being driven home and things piled on the bookcase
outside. He was in the captain's secret compartment, locked away.
Trryll felt sick at his misfortune.

Unlocking the cabin door, the captain's footsteps retreated up the
galleyway. Muffled voices of humans and Zo could be heard. Trryll
silently crept over the boxes and felt the wall where the opening had
been. It was hard wood, the join of the jamb and the door exceedingly
tight. Trryll gingerly extended a claw into the tight space. The bolt
was deeper than he could reach. He pushed gently against the door. It
felt as strong as the wall it was set into. Trryll cursed at himself
quietly as he slunk back into his protected corner.

Voices rose in argument from above, and the rumble of the Zos turned
into bellows. A large crash sounded and the ship shuddered. The sound
of the human voice turned obsequious and the Zos calmed down. Soon,
heavy footsteps came down the galleyway. Doors to cabins were thrown
open and closed soon after. The muffled voice of the captian explained
each of the crew's quarters. The captain came to his own quarters.

"And here," the captain said, opening the cabin door, "are my quarters.
I can assure you gentlemen, er, Zos, that there is nothing out of the
ordinary." The Zos prowled about the cabin briefly.

"Show us the hold," demanded one Zo.

"Certainly," the captain said, "But my crew has been loading cargo into
it all morning long. They would have spotted anyone attempting to enter
it, no matter what kind of stealth you say they have."

"What is your business?'" demanded the other of the Zos.

"That, sirs," the captain replied as he closed the door behind the
retreating party, "Is between me and the Emperor."

Trryll's heart froze as the cabin door clicked softly shut.

---

A STORY
BY LEOGIC CHRYSTALIS
Clan Lord and Puddleby © 2001 Delta Tao

A human named James, like many others, began his life as an exile, not
by choice. Through defending himself and his family from band of
cutthroat thieves, killing one. James was arrested for murder by the
town's Sheriff, an Agent for the Ascendancy, and local crime boss.

After several weeks at sea, James and others, barely clothed, half-
starved and with no means to defend themselves, where unshackled,
brought on deck of the prison galley, and dumped on the dock of
Puddleby Island. Somewhat dazed, he and his fellow prisoners where
instructed to report into town, or simply die, preferably the latter.
James and the 10 out of 14 others who survived the long journey trudged
toward town walls, and past the gates where they where suggested to
move as quickly past as possible and to the town square by a large
Ghorak Zo. James had heard of these folk, but had never seen one, he
quickly followed the burly looking guard's orders. Once he was deeper
into town, he was shocked to find how well dressed the exiled prisoner
where, and how well fed they looked. He also noticed what a variety of
folk there where to behold. He had never even seen a Thoom or a Sylvan
or many outside his own species before, having rarely needed to leave
his farm back home.

A Halfling, seeing that his group where new arrivals and half starved
ushered them over to a nearby tavern and offered the group some food.
The Halfling-who introduced himself as Mortimer the Tailor-carried on
how horrible how little food they offered prisoners and commented that
he was STILL making up for his journey on the boat, patting his rotund
belly. Halfway into the meal they where joined by a rather tall well
armed Thoomish lady, sporting a rather threadbare black belt to which
Mortimer offered to repair, but was politely refused. She joined them
for a dinner of fresh rock-cod and greens. She introduced herself as
Lelerin, giving assistance to Mortimer on directing James and his
fellow new exiles to visit town hall where he could be provided with a
weapon and better clothing.

James asked her about the belt, and why it was so threadbare. She
explained to him that in her old town, the solder's never washed their
belts, and that over time, it grew black. She explained in a somewhat
sad and melodramatic manner that 'due to the smell and it being an
unwholesome habit' they insisted that she use one dyed black, though
she let it grow threadbare to show its age and her experience.

When James arrived at the town hall, Leterin introduced him town
officer in charge of local Human relations and bid him good luck. The
officer gave him a descent change of clothes tan and sackcloth. The
officer also introduced him to the local weapon-master who issued James
a club, crude yet effective. The weapons-master further instructed
James that the town was constantly under assault by beasts of all
sorts. Clubus further informed James that he would be expected to do
his part to keep the town running though combat or healing or some
other useful skill. His first task was to help maintain the rat towers
to the west, which had always had a little rodent problem, though he
should first visit master Bodius or Brackus to first learn basic
combat.

Bodius, whose main job, when not training Exiles on the finer point of
physical fitness and basic dodging and striking techniques, could
usually be found maintaining the altar room, which of course was where
James found him. Bodius issued James a few basic pointers about how to
hold a weapon, basic striking disciplines, how often to perform
exercises, and which ones where the most beneficial. James was then
ushered out the door, as Bodius seemed preoccupied with a small blue
book, though pointing him in the direction of the western guard towers
first. To James's surprise these 'little rodents', Clubus had earlier
mentioned, turned out to be 2 foot long giant Rats with razor sharp
teeth and beady little black eyes, reeking of unwholesome filth and
decay.

James maintained the tower for several weeks, learning the ins and outs
of fighting rats and how to dodge their attacks. Leaping away and
striking out when the rat was off balance making goes at his throat or
legs.

A few weeks later, James was eating his supper of fresh-fish and tubers
and berries he greeted by an old man by the name of Fistus.

The old man sat down in front of James, who smiled and nodded in
recognition, though curious, as to whom this individual was now sat
before him chattering on in small conversation about the town, the
horrid vermine, and how cheap Mr. Bountypay was.

"You're new in town, though not so new, son" said the old man. "The
name's Fistus. Used to be a soldier, from before the times of the
emperor. Was a veteran of the Darshak War. I run the fighters' guild
round here."

"Why do they call you Fistus?" James replied.

Fistus held up his gnarled hands, to which had looked like they had
been broken many, many times

"Because of these, before the inquisitor had me sent here, he had my
hands shattered, healed, and shattered again, twenty times over, till
they thought they wouldn't work anymore. Not that it mattered, just
made 'em tougher." Fistus looked grim, recalling the memory of his
torture, flexing his hands slowly repeatedly. James could hear the
tendons stretch and bones crackle slightly as the old timer did this.

"I've been watching you lately for the last few weeks, I think you
would make an excellent fighter. You got what it takes to perhaps even
rival Eveus or myself someday. Here, take this." Fistus placed a
heavy, leather-sheathed, ebon handled, knife in James' hand.

"We would appreciate your help as a fighter you will be trained in the
art of war and combat, and as a huntsman to retrieve wild game. This
is just the beginning, son. A great opportunity."

"Um, ok, uh what do I do?" James looked at his dagger, and hefting it a
few times testing its weight and balance."

"Go to the fighter's hall, northeast of town when you can. Show your
blade to the guard and he'll letcha' in."

James agreed to be a "fighter" for the town. His new weapon, an 8 inch
hunting knife, was rather useful, as well as sharp. He found that rats,
as well as myrm where slain with greater ease by its sharp blade. He
was asked to help clear myrm a week into clearing rats, much to his
chagrin. He was fearful of the dire ant creatures, wanting to keep his
hands and arms intact, though he quickly learned that most where slow
and stupid. Usually when he saw a one of the rarer-though swift-guard
myrm, he would flee like a bat out of hell.

Before he had met Fistus occasionally tried to explore, but was turned
back buy a rather stubborn doorman. James displayed his new dagger to
the guard, whom nodded his head and pointed toward the large twin
wooden door of the Fighters' Guild complex. Inside was somewhat
disappointing, several rough looking individuals gave him sideways
glances and carried on their conversations. James approached a rather
plainly dressed fighter in the back who was picking his sharp teeth
with a toothpick.

"Name's Atkus," the man said, "you came to learn?

"Learn? Learn what, sir?" replied James

"I can train you to use that pigsticker you have there, son" Atkus
chortled. "Don't want you hacking off a few of your own fingers in
combat, do you?"

James shook his head, no and continued.

"Sure, what do I... do?" asked James.

Atkus motioned James to follow as he approached the basement door.
Within the basement, Atkus nodded at a few odd looking practice dummies
and wielded his own dagger dagger, adorned and scarred by many years of
combat, though its blade was still honed, and amazingly unnotched.
Atkus told James to stand in front of one.

"First things first, how do you strike at an enemy?" Atkus inquired.

James holding is knife at a downward angle lunged forward at the nearby
dummy, missing it entirely as it leapt out of the way!

"Aargh!" James shouted, his blade implanted in the wall behind the
dummy. Atkus snickered at James' clumsy strike.

"These new ones are getting greener every year" Atkus chuckled
silently.

"Well, kid, you have got a lot to learn, for one thing, you need to be
subtle in your movements when approaching an enemy. Try not to give
away when you are going to strike."

James climbs to his feet and begins to attempt to pry his new blade
from its place in the wall. After a few tries he pulls it free and
focuses on Atkus.

Atkus fold his own dagger up in demonstration of a fighting stance, his
feet placed shoulder width apart and his blade pointing down. He looked
like he was going to punch the dummy, whom was now trying to taunt
Atkus by throwing hay at him and banging on its shield with its wooden
shortsword.

Atkus then glanced at James, winked, and without looking lunged at the
dummy. Before the dummy could react, it found Atkus' dagger planed
firmly between the eyes.

The dummy froze and started mumbling 'oww oww oww' before pulling free,
glaring at Atkus. The dummy, knowing it was no match for the old timer
sat in a corner and began stitching itself up with a needle and thread.

"Its not just about sight, kid, it's about sensing your opponent's
position and listening to his movements. Don't just use your eyes and
brute strength. You will also find some creatures move a certain way,
and that other creatures are just as smart as we are. The later of
course being the most deadly." Atkus commented, removed some bits of
hay from his blade's hilt, sheathing it silently in its home on his
belt.

James nodded in agreement and stepped up to another dummy, which was
leaning against a post, looking rather bored. When it saw James, it
perked up and stood in an attack posture.

James, imitating Atkus's fighting stance and glanced at the dummy,
which was now attempting to poke at him with its wooden sword. James
held his blade up and slashed out with its edge at the dummy. The dummy
blocked the strike with its small shield and tried to counterattack
with its sword. James received a smart thump on the side of the head,
but didn't fall to the glancing blow. The strike merely annoyed James
whose determination welled up even further, feeling pleased that he
didn't ENTIRELY miss the dummy. James stepped back a bit, then edged
forward. When the dummy swung at him, James knocked its wooden sword
aside with his knife and plunged it into its shoulder, causing the
dummy minimal pain. James withdrew his blade, stepping back quickly to
avoid a painful stab in the ribs from the dull wooden sword. James was
curious as to why the dummy was still standing in front of him grinning
like a lunatic.

"It was a wounding strike, not enough points to make it hurt." Atkus,
as though somehow he could read James's immediate thoughts, "Ok, that's
enough for today, at least you didn't hurt yourself like a lot of
newcomers do. More than once I've had to drag some slob out of this
place with a concussion or to find that they had cut off their own
fingers." James smiled and thanked Atkus for his help.

"Come back tomorrow, we will discuss your career as a fighter.
Remember, practice what I taught you."

James left the fighters' training area with a new sense of purpose. All
that afternoon he hunted vermine for furs, using the subtle maneuver
Atkus had taught him, as well as improvising the skills his father had
taught him.

By that evening, he had become confident with his lesson, and looked
forward to many more with his new teacher.

#####
COMING SOON TO THE FISHWRAP

Behind the Mystic II: After the Beatings
Clan Profiles: Pogue Mahone, Rising Claw, ThoomCare
Five Questions with Alchemist

#####
Fishwrap Magazine is part of the ThoomCare Media Network.

Publisher and Editor: Paramedic

Senior reporters: Crippler, Charlos

Roving reporters and contributors: Althea, Babajaga, Bones, Callia,
Deadmeat, Jeanne, Koric, K'Pyn, Mac, Monolith, Norm, Perkusi, Tyking II

A newspaper is only as good as its reporters, and we are always looking
for new stories. If you have news you think belongs in Fishwrap
Magazine, send Paramedic some mail (mailbox #1047) or email him at his
scroll:
http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Highrise/2084/

"Rule a kingdom as though you were cooking a small fish - don't overdo
it".
- Lao Tzu