As of 11/15/97
Welcome to The Golden Caravan, the best tavern in Allroads. Me name's Gilly. Rest yerself fer a bit while I pour ye a tankard o'ale. Five dagars if ye please an' thank ye. Now, hows 'bout a bit o'gossip thats been going 'round here in the Independent State. What of the whole of Western Glashia, ye ask? Worry not, me friend. Take another pull on ye tankard an' I'll pour ye another - five dagars if ye please an' thank ye - an' I'll fill ye in on the what's what of the who's who.
The following rumors are 
as of
The 15th Day of Morning Frost, In the Year of Our Keeper, 5397
Gilly just stepped himself out. Ya can talk to me, though.
I'm his missus, Gail.
What're ya don' back so soon? Dincha just leave an hour ago? Yer did go
home, but yer got inta a fight with the lil missus, eh? I s'pose I could get ya
room fer the night, but would ya listen to a story first, fore I take yer money, that
is? It's really a good story, bout love and vengeance. I know, ye've heard
stories like that b'fore, but I'll wager ye've never heard on with the twist this one
has. Once, not too long ago, there were this couple. They were rich beyond
yer dreams, but they was reclusive, shunning their own kind. Ya know what
they say about opposites attractin'? Well, it couldn't be more true for this here
couple. While the wife were like their ancestors, evil an' mean, and the
husband, while not exactly kind an' goodly, were somewhere betwixt and
between. Generally, they got along well enough, despite their differences, but
they sometimes had their fights and disagreements, and like most married folks
do, they made up in the end. Anyways, this couple was awaitin' the birth o'
their first child when they has this big blow up. Unkind words flew in both
directions until the husband left. He went out hunting to clear his head and to
cool the anger. Well, he stays away fer awhile, and when he comes back, he
finds his wifes dead body next to what remains o' his child. The people that had
done the deed hadn't stopped there. No, they went on and mutilated her body,
skinnin' her, taking her teeth and cutting off her fingers. And they had chopped
his unborn son from the safty o' his womb, and hacked him to pieces. Howlin'
with rage, he swore to avenge their deaths, vowin' to hunt the murderers down
wherever they went. Y'see, he began to think that mebbe his wife had been
right in that last fight, and he had been to stubborn to admit it. But it were to
late to change things. So he left his home, following the scent of the murderers
from on e end of Glashia to another, killin' 'em when he found 'em. Sometimes
he takes 'em from ambush, other times he burns entire villages to get at one
person. I hear he's still out there, huntin' down all of those responible, and I pray
none of 'em ever come in here. He has forsaken all else in his quest to kill
those people. And the smart money says that he'll do it, for he is patient.
Y'see, there's sumthin' I know that yer don't. Yer prob'ly thinkin' the husband be
a human, or a fpathen, or even a havanathe, but he ain't. Y'see, he is a red
dragon, his mem'ry long and his hatred runs deep. And he learned a hard
lesson that day. If unkind words are also yer partin' words, know that you may
not be able to take 'em back later. Now, do yer still want that room?
Yer wantin' to know what happened the other day? Well . . .
The 5th Day of Early Dusk, YK 5397
The strange plants of Darkenwood.
The Tassarak's invasion of Kinashae.
The enslaved Dervatear in Arvandus.
The 17th Day of Early Dusk, YK 5397
A valley filled with brownies and pixies!
What's the matter with Dargo the Dervatear?
Ye got a good rumor 'bout Western Glashia that ye may want to share with ole Gilly? Well, why don't ye lean in a bit an' whisper it in me ear . . .
Under Subject, please type "Rumor."
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