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Becky had been wondering whether the baby Tina had introduced into the reality drama play was a boy or a girl, and had been tempted to look, so to speak, but had felt a reluctance. The thought that the baby was a hermaphrodite had crossed her mind, but she dismissed it, and decided to think about it later…go with the flow, see how things turned out…..

Arona was surprised that Sanso wanted the baby and she was not sure what to do. She felt the baby had been entrusted to her, and felt quite caring towards it. Sanso grabbed it from her, and she could see that he really wanted it.

She would need to feel her way through this. Yikesy started crying.

Mandrake looked at her and rolled his eyes. Do you want the baby or not, Arona? he asked her

Suddenly she felt clear. Yes I do she said, smiling. And she thanked Sanso graciously, for his kind offer, and he willingly handed Yikesy back to her, realising that having a baby was probably not suited to his lifestyle.

In fact Sanso was relieved. The cute little blue eyes had started looking quite rat like when Yikesy started crying.

So it was all perfect.

In fact it was all hunky dory.:yahoo_sick:

and off they went.

hmmmm, said Arona, this is rather a predicament.

I am going to have to face this head on, she said to the others in her usual practical manner. Okay I can’t look after this baby in the cave, I had better pop out for a bit and see if I can bump into a spare nanny somewhere. Then the nanny can look after the baby while I continue my explorations

Arona looked down at the wee baby face though, and it was so very endearingly ugly, that she wondered if she would be able to leave little Yikesy with a nanny. She hugged Yikesy to her lovingly.

I will just have to play it by ear, she thought, although she knew the answer already.

You’re not serious, are you? Sanso raised an eyebrow at Arona (who had mysteriously materialized a baby in her arms, in the blink of an eye)

You’re calling it YIKES? Oh well, fair enough….

In a puff of smoke, a Crayola fairy appeared in front of them.

Yes? she said, You called? I’m Fairy Nuf…that’s fun spelled backwards, in case you’re wondering how I got here.

Sanso didn’t really understand what was going on, but had an urge to materialize a baby too.

Thankfully the urge soon passed and he said to Fairy Nuf politely, There must be a mistake, but thank you for calling. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you.

Call me anytime, I’m available 24/7, sweetie….and in an puff of smoke, she was gone.

Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.

Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.

Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.

Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.

Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!

But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.

Tina had a wonderful night of dreams. In fact it was the first time in ages that her dreams had been happy. Usually in her dreams she did not feel any emotion much.

The phone rang. It was Becky, although for a moment she thought it was her friend Docky, their voices sounded so similar.

I am fine she told Becky, I am so sorry to hear Sam is sick, give him my love when you see him

Tina chuckled to herself, remembering how last time she was sick Becky had bought over this big pot of nettle soup for her…

Really though, she was so grateful for her friends. Al seemed a bit worried about her at the moment, but then he was such a worry wort, she thought fondly.

The Assassin was already in the room when Baul came in… Baul wasn’t sure if he would have prefered him not to be here so he could himself gather his mind. But he was well used to camouflage his feelings and inner struggle and his face was quite smiling, as usual.

Looking at the Assassin’s face, Baul was feeling very uncomfortable, he almost winced… the bluish glow of the dagger tatoo on the forehead of the man was quite disgusting. Baul kept smiling though, he wouldn’t dare show his own weakness to anyone, especially an Assassin. His eyes were piercing his soul, if Baul had believed in such thing he would have run away, but he didn’t believe in anything except himself and the power of money.

As the Assassin was never talking first, Baul presented his offer putting the object he had brought on the table.

— Open the chest. You’ll find your paiement inside.

Ar’Am Khra was waiting, still gazing sharply at Baul, making him feel even more uncomfortable.
The Assassin was quite impressed with how the man Baul could master his own reactions, and though he was quite intrigued by what his client had brought, he wanted to play for a few moments. With a very slight movement of his eyebrows, so slight one wouldn’t have notice, he managed to add an irritation in his look. He saw the movement of fear in his client’s face, but still it was so subtle he could have imagined it.

Baul pushed the chest toward the Assassin, a bit nervous, but he could …. a sudden thought came to his mind, wandering like a Strokgnutch in a henhouse. He swallowed imperceptibly… Had someone already put a contract on his head? He managed a smile as he was opening the chest for the Assassin.

This Baul was quite impressive. Ar’Am Khra had known what he was thinking as though he could read his mind.

He lowered his eyes to look at what was in the chest. He really desired being surprised by his clients, and this one had never failed to surprise him…

Once again…

Baul was surprised as the Assassin wasn’t showing any hint of the slightest emotion at all… Would he show anything else than disdain even once!?

— A glubolín

Yann decided to buy a notebook and 3 pens that he could bring everywhere with him to do some sketches.

Sam was quite pleased actually to be so unwell, it was giving him an excuse not to go out in the newly flooded city… it was quite unusual and sudden, and he was also quite pleased that the flood was just stopping at the first floor

Well he had news from Becky who wanted to come here and bring him some flowers and sweets. And he realized that he himself hadn’t their phone numbers… he’ll have to ask his friends.

The bell!!!

Becky was already here!? He was still in pajamas, Foo’kin gondolas, so much faster than the cabs…

hehe reading back the whole story today at work, and found a long oblong stone sync in the 29th comment referring to our last drawing let’s make them oblong stones then and maybe in another reality mud men but

As Sean pushed open the door of the Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms, the swirling dampness of the Dublin street was transformed into a scene of noisy smoky conviviality. He pushed his way slowly through the crowd towards the bar, glancing up at Oscar the pub parrot, who was singing the refrain from The Irish Rover.

The usual, Padraig, Sean said to the barman, and a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

He found a stool to sit on next to a sticky ringed round table surrounded by plump gossiping matrons and wiry cloth capped men with bulbous red veined noses. Sean exchanged a few pleasantries with them about the weather, mainly about how unpleasant the weather always was, and then lapsed into reverie.

The Big Apple…..that’s what they used to call the famous city, before they renamed it New Venice. Sean was curious to see the changes, not least the bright yellow gondolas that had replaced the taxi-cabs in the watery streets.

On impulse, Sean fished his mobile telephone out of his pocket and dialed Tina’s number, but the line was engaged. He finished his pint of Guinness and called to Padraig to pull him another one. He tried Tina’s number again; this time a recorded message informed him that Tina had switched her telephone off.

An hour and a half and seven pints later, Sean gave up trying to phone Tina and lurched home to bed.

Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel, and clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the Alal’ Azntignit.

Cranky was feeling like a fish out of water in the desert, but Illi had taken to it like a duck to water. Not that there was alot of water about in the desert, Cranky grumbled to herself. What she wouldn’t have given for a nice hot cup of tea and a crumpet. She looked at Illi and her face softened. Just look at the delight in that dear childs eyes, she said to herself. My, but she’s a chip off the old block. Make herself at home anywhere, she would. Or make her home anywhere, Cranky thought, wistfully remembering their games of Wish House back at Rubbingdon.

Let’s just hope Lord Gus finds those bones quickly and we can all go home.

Becky was wondering what on earth Finn was on about. Gentle bemused and perplexed voice? Well, fair play to her, thought Becky, if she can here typewriting on a computer screen as bemused gentle voices, she’s a better man than I , Gunga Din……

The rain was pouring cabbages for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
They were mere beggers.
The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

He was remembering of an amusing event.
A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
The Assassin accepted the contract.
A few days later he killed the second man.
He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract.

He never questioned the motives of his clients.
It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders