I'm rather enjoying my real world news
mixing with my fantasy world news (you can judge which is which) so
expect this to be a semi-regular post here on the blog.
In things Hydra Cooperative related,
Operation Unfathomable's Kickstarter has been launched and is
trucking along. The first stretch goal is hit which means the Odious
Uplands, an entire already-written book-length wilderness
supplement is a go. Strange Stars OSR is at the proofing stage
and I continue to attempt to push through that last bit of writing of
What Ho, Frog Demons (the fourth and last of the Dunes series).
And Now the News of the Hill
Cantons...
The fact-finding mission of self-styled
Son of Mulmak, advocate of pan-dungeonism, is rumored to have
met fierce resistance in the upper levels of the Mountain Hall of
the Hyperboreans. An anonymous source in the Guild
of Condotierre, Linkboys and Stevedores says
that the party ran into unexpected new residents calling themselves
the Servants of the Antagonist, Ha-Vul the Great Restocker.
The seemingly interminable election
of the new Overking drags on with the 27 lord-electors continuing
to bicker and maneuver and the powerless majority to debate and riot.
A crowd of bystanders in Marlinko's Tomb-Plaza rescued a local
Worker of Wood member who attempted to gouge out his eyes with an
auger while simultaneously hanging himself on a self-made gibbet. The
man was heard screaming repeatedly “please Sun Lord, just make it
stop!”, an apparent reference to the length of the campaign season.
For the first time since the Green Rye
Uprising, Medved, hirsute divine Master of the Dunes, has
called the muster for all leveled war-bears. Under pretext of
rough behavior, Pinc the Petulant, despicable petty tyrant of
the pocket kingdom of Pohansko, has imprisoned a score of
war-bears in his foulest dungeons allegedly to avoid paying back
wages. Hosts of bearlings have been seen marching east and south
through Marlinko Canton mustard banner unfurled with a new ballad on
their hairy lips.
In the gaol cell I sit,
Thinking glaive-guisarme, of you,
And our bright slumbering home so
far away,
And the tears drip my snout
'Spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and
grunt hurray.
Brump! Brump! Brump!
The war-bears are mar-chin'
Cheer up cubs here we come!
And beneath the starry paw
We shall smell the blessed honey
again
In the free dunes of Medved's sandy
home.
In the battle's van we stood
When their horsey charge they made
And they swept us off
A hundred bearlings or more
But before they reached our phalanx
They were beaten back, dismayed
And we heard the roar of victory
o'er and o'er
Brump! Brump! Brump!
The war-bears are mar-chin'
Cheer up cubs here we come!
And beneath the starry paw
We shall smell the blessed honey
again
In the free dunes of Medved's sandy
home.
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