Wednesday, April 10, 2013


Hello, welcome one and all, we're back on Iron Wyvern, and so are your three favorite dragons!!!




I have for several years kept a certain perpetual dislike of the South, but this time those Yovians have gone too far! You know what those supposed Dark Wyverns recomposing in the dark mountains, Yovians hiding in a cave yelling in Swahiliese at innocent passersby, all of which would squeal in pig Latin and run screaming to the nearest town, yelling of dark spirits casting spells on them. Needless to say we did not run screaming in obscure dialects, we promptly beat the crud out of them, doused them in gasoline and drop kicked them to the other side of the mountain range, leaving a spectacular smoke trail behind, both ridding the North of evil Yovian tricks, and giving me an idea for my next impressionist painting.
Now that that crisis has been dealt with, I shall now commend myself to my life as it was. Though I had barely finished my combustible bowling tournament when yet another call came my way. A letter clothed in secrets, along with tape, came to my door, inviting me to a secret war council the next week.
I was astonished by this, but have accepted the invite, and am looking forward to it greatly. In actuality my nephew, I need you to keep this quiet as the concept of a secret meeting is for it to remain unobtrusive and unknown to anyone outside the selected circles. Even this letter violates the code of secrecy impressed upon me in the letter, though I’m not sure whether it said ‘under no circumstances divulge this information to any other’ or ‘under no circumnavigation let bulge thy form of guest to Blenny’s brother’. You see, it was rather spectacularly misspelled; never have I seen a hyphen in an adverb. Also I suspect there is only one T in ‘discombobulating’.
Continuing to other matters, I hear you have taken part in the Pyrotechnic-Crocheting festival in Murdath. I approve highly of this, as I took a field trip there once, which was greatly enjoyable (though Lenny the Caffeinated still has a willow-pattern burn on his under armor that is yet to be explained). It is a large festival as I remember it, with many patrons flooding in from all compass points, bringing their own specialized fur, cloth, and flammable objects.
I am on good terms with the festival’s director, Tepti the Gambler, he’s a foreign dragon, from the Outlands, with a slightly stubborn disposition, but if you tell him “Trubodox sent me” he’ll be your friend, and if he says something about a blood-pack involving several gold sovereigns, a Brazilian artichoke, and a hippo with athlete’s foot, just take it for gossip.
Speaking of friends in high places I must introduce you to my good friend Peliboss the Extemporaneous, he’s the head-dragon of the Draconian Immigration Protection and Promotion sYndicate, or D.I.P.P.Y. for short. It is an organization that protects the travels of dragons and also incorporates the promotion of multi-dragon easy-flying transport, such as flying carpets and flying houses. Peliboss is a little out of  his time (bit of a psychic), but he’s a good dragon, and you should meet him soon.
But I must fly now, Runky the Entomologist is insisting on my company this afternoon, and I have promised to introduce him to a friend of mine, Blizdiblundikuss Flyzeencompast, he’s an Outlander giant butterfly whom I’ve taken a liking to, even though he served time in an asylum for a short time as a wall ornament…something tells me we’ve had this conversation before.
Your uncle forever,
Trubodox the Scarlet

1 comment:

  1. "under no circumnavigation let bulge thy form of guest to Blenny’s brother"

    XD XD XD