Family Ties

Notices and stories concerning events in the legendary basement of the Duel of Swords.

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Post by Tara » Mon Feb 06, 2017 11:56 pm

Dearest Jewelsie,

Gone are the days when you, Pix and I used to sit in our little clubhouse, with our fancy dresses and hats, drink tea and gossip the days away. This I know and it grieves me, my Empress. It truly does. Not because I miss sharing the intimate parts of our lives with one another (I do) but because we didn't know how good we had it back then. How at peace we were even though you and I were going through husbands like water through a sieve and Pix was falling in love with herself once she discovered what she looked like in a mirror and subsequently wouldn't put it down. Do you remember how cute she was that day? I do.

We couldn't possibly know, even with our incredibly accurate gifts of foresight how in such a short span of time our lives would be irrevocably changed and by this I mean that Pix left us and she was replaced with the likes of that insufferable layabout Gren "My Weapon Doubles as an Oral Hygiene Tool" Blockman.

He's off his rocker, Jewelsie.

I love Gren and I know you do too but his last letter to me has me concerned. Not half-assed concerned as I often pretend to be with these stringless puppets running around but really concerned. All he could talk about in his reply to me was some of his recent accomplishments like he were interviewing for some job and while not necessarily a social faux-pas, it was notably odd.

Normally he'll spend a great deal of time criticizing MY recent accomplishments and while his constant social activism gets on my last nerve, he is almost never in the habit of speaking about himself. Gren, for all his faults (and there are many) is about as selfless as they come. This read like a self-aggrandizing soliloquy and for a moment he did manage to sell me on the idea of him before I remembered this is a man who has campaigned for the complete cessation of the Pogo Stick being manufactured since it poses a risk to ants which might be scurrying along the ground and would get squished by one.

It's always that somewhere a giraffe keeled over, died in agonizing pain, and this is why we shouldn't test on animals. Or that the pollution levels in the park's ponds he looks after are so staggering in how toxic they are he spends most of his time chasing after people visiting the park who happen to light a cigarette because he's in constant fear that the place will explode any minute.

And on.

And on.

And on.

He has got to have a filing cabinet somewhere with various causes he supports, alphabetically filed so they can be pulled out quickly, waiting with all the things which happen daily that irk him.

But this isn't even the worst, Jewelsie. In his letter he mentioned the names of two demons which he claims were dispatched by me to both guard over and harass the hell out of him. A brilliant idea if I don't say so myself but in this case I had nothing to do with it! They are, as he stated, Skullsplitter and GBob.

What has me concerned and a little confused is that while I tend to think I have a fantastic memory given what I am and what I can do on a daily basis, I do not recall there ever BEING demons named Skullsplitter and GBob in my employ!

Who the hell is he talking about?!

I asked myself this question as I was standing in line at the Shop-Til-You-Drop checkout earlier. My reasons for going to the store was to get some pablum for little Horus because our Chef tells me he's all but stopped eating all the greens we've been giving him and I figured a change in food might be in order here.

So there I am, directly adjacent this metal rack which was laden with chocolate bars and something called Nutella, forced to listen to the lady in front of me claim the clerk wasn't adding up the coupons right like this alone was cause for the end of the world, when it dawned on me.

I have but one army. Granted it's not as large as other armies in existence but it is over ten thousand strong and it is mine.

I may not have given birth to the demons which make up its ranks but I HIRED every one of them.

I'm telling you I do not know them but Gren insists they know me.

Which means that Gren has been compromised.

Since no other suspects have come forward, I can only conclude Clamtrude is responsible!

Somewhere in that overly tense body of his Gren is a prisoner.

His letter to me can only be a cipher. A desperate cry for help hidden in what is essentially a commercial about him and how great he is. Something the real Gren would never say because there really isn't anything great about him except that he is a never ending supply of amusement for me.

Which means we must all do our part to restore him to his normal paranoid delusional state, stat!

I don't want to take a further risk here by revealing what I believe to be a solid plan in case my letter to you is intercepted but you should definitely meet me in the back alley of the RDI some night soon so I can go over it with you.

We'll talk more then.



P.S. Bring the net!


Jared my I.T. guy says that I should be using more of social media to broaden my horizons and to make new friends so I also posted this to the Tweeterverse which for obvious nomenclature reasons confuses the hell out of me. Only thing is I have to write this symbol ( # ) in front of words my little messages apply to. You know, categories and such? Like if I were to twit (This is the past tense of tweet by the way) that I burned down a small village I would include things like #anotheronebitesthedust and #burnbabyburn and maybe #dontyouwishyouhadahosesucker in it so that like-minded people who want to discuss the same things I want to discuss can find it.

On this post about Gren though I only used one word versus three and that is #notmydemons

I'm hoping this goes viral as they say, gains enough traction and someone out there can help me figure out what is wrong with Gren.

Gods, can you imagine if they made him WEIRDER? Sweet Jesus on a cracker, I'd die ten times if that's the case!
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Post by Tara » Thu Feb 09, 2017 7:32 pm

Dearest Grenny,

Heeeeeeeeeeeeey there little buddy! Got your letter and I want you to know it made me so happy to receive it but I also know that you're probably wondering why it took me so long to respond and whether I am in some far off land again getting into more trouble. You'll be happy to know I am home and safe! I almost blinked when I saw who it was from, not once, but three times! For all the times I have written to you and you never responded, this was great! I said to myself "Yes! He finally answered me! Yay!" and rushed to get to the post office before it closed. Unfortunately my spit sucks so I had to lick it twice before it would adhere to the envelope but I asked the postman if he would lick it again for me but he said no. So I beat the hell out of him.

Say hello to GBob and Skullsplitter for me! Are you not amazed by how I am able to call upon those who work for me to watch over you when you least expect it? I don't know of anyone else in my employ who can be trusted with such an important task. This is because I love you so much!

Don't ever say again that I wouldn't do anything for you, Grenny. To me, you are my world but to the rest of them meatpuppets out there you're just Gren.

They do not know you're true worth. I do.

After all it was you who provided valuable help to me when I was bit by that snake as only you could. No one else would've done the same. They just don't have your way, your unique vision and perspective.

I better get going here, I'm holding up the line.

Talk to you soon!


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Post by Tara » Thu Feb 09, 2017 7:32 pm

Dear Jewelsie,

I wrote Gren a SECRET MESSAGE hidden in a letter! I sure hope he sees it and gets what I'm trying to do. If you see him and can talk to him privately before I find him, can you please try and figure out if he's being watched by Clamtrude's goons and what their motives are? What they may have done to him? Things like that. See if he's wearing one of those electronical gadget things that enable someone to hear what is being said from far away. I do not know what they are called but I'm sure Gren's infested with them. So frisk him if you can. Just don't do it too much, he'll faint from overstimulation.

First they stole my Anpu and did horrible things to him in that lab. Now they're going after my almost-brother! Do they think they are going to prevail here?


I mean it, Jewelsie.

GBob and Skullsplitter. I mean, really. Who names a demon that?! Much less one of MY DEMONS!

Please help me get to the bottom of this. It's driving me mad.

But be safe because if they go after you next, it's going to be war. I can promise you that.


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Post by Alfred » Sun Feb 19, 2017 7:35 pm

Yo Queen of the Nether Regions. Hah, I made an innuendo already.

This is Alfred, Disgruntled Unicorn and Gren’s trusty steed. At this point you should be wondering two things. *Why* am I getting a reply from Alfred and *How* am I getting a reply by Alfred? I mean, it’s not like I’ve got four fingers and a thumb, right?

Anyhow, once again your letter got sidetracked and ended up in Annabelle’s (That’s the loud dwarven Ranger chick who runs a godforsaken outpost in the middle of nowhere and whose beard is longer than Gren’s) inbox. While Gren was out in the woods taking a wiz, she stormed up to me, red in the face, and used my horn like one of those paper spike things in a restaurant that they slap the order slips on. So I could either stand there like an idiot or do something about it.

To the “How”, I asked one of Gren’s fellow Rangers who was laying around the outpost to dictate this letter for me. He agreed to do it if I promised not to tell Annabelle I caught him sleeping again. Yes, I’m telling you, so you understand the situation.

I’m sure Gren will be happy to know you’re doing fine and not burning down cities or whatever else it is you do to entertain yourself besides annoying him. As long as you’ve got enough Gyros to eat and men other than him to seduce, I’m sure he’ll be peachy keen. Or whatever. Which I totally don’t get. Lemme tell you something about Gren. I know he comes off as all virginal and stuff, but I think it’s a bunch of BS. He’s always staying over at the Inn with Izira. He’s all “We played Yahtzee all night”, but I know better. You take a Ranger with all that stamina and endurance, and combine it with all those years of sexual repression that have been building up in the man, then add a hot-blooded fire elemental who’s been locked in a pocket dimension for years, and BLAM. Plus every time I peek in the windows when Gren goes inside, Izira’s wearing these exciting red colored outfits. Poor woman needs to get out more, if you ask me.

I don’t understand why you’ve highlighted certain words in your letter, it went right over my head. I figured it’s just the way you write. It would explain why Gren makes all those crazy faces whenever he reads your letters. It can’t just be constipation.

I gotta go, Gren’s coming out of the woods. He usually says something mean about how I need be nicer and not say rude things to people. I don’t know, I never pay attention to him anyway.

Try not to kill anyone,

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Post by Tara » Tue Jun 06, 2017 10:24 pm

Several letters are dispatched throughout what was once considered a realm but is now something else entirely...

Dearest Jewelsie,

The day Jesus gave his Sermon on the Mount, I, known to the locals then as "Rebecca", found myself in the bed of some far-off Lord having grown tired of waiting for Anubis to respond to one of my many missives and spent the better part of the afternoon slowly untangling the man's intestines from around my fingers and from within my hair. To my credit, I did not intend for his innards to end up in my hair but his constant thrashing and flailing about is what caused this. So, I missed the sermon but I did acquire some very good cordage which I am proud to say I still have to this day.

What I do not have is a date for tea with my best friend.

This is mostly because I am presently in another bed tied up with what appears to be, if smells are to be believed, strands of garlic and curtain tassels the mistress of this house was forced to use when she realized she could not overpower me alone.

I, remembering what you always say to me about being polite and cooperative in mixed company, decided to allow her to believe she could overpower me and cooperated while she tied me to her bed. I even smiled.

Why she has done this is a mystery but if I had to take a wild guess, I would say it probably has something to do with the fact that her son and I were having a slight disagreement over payment and his head accidentally fell out the window.

Now, before you go all Gren on me and suggest I was the cause of this, I could just as easily point to the very strong winds in the region recently as the culprit and that would be reasonable doubt enough I think.

These meatpuppets just aren't built the same way we immortals are.

One day they have heads.

The next? Not so much.

I don't know what God was thinking when he made these mutants but if you ask me it's not a very good ROI if your product falls apart as easily as they tend to do especially when I'm in a room!

If you're wondering just now how I am writing this when I am clearly unable to do so and are picturing some magical quill furiously scribbling onto the parchment as my thoughts come into creation, just stop.

Turns out the mistress has another son, albeit a little younger than the last and he's been kind enough to transcribe my thoughts for me if I promise to have a stern talk with some of the older kids in the neighborhood who have been harassing him about his hair.

Apparently the boy's style of hair is not highly sought after and the teasing is really eating away at him psychologically.

To be quite frank he looks like he was being prepped for the electric chair and they shaved off the rounder portion of his hair but left all the hair around the side of his noggin.

A friar, pretty much, that's what he looks like.

Since I can safely assume that it is no longer the year 1225, this is not going to win him any forward-fashion contests around here.

I've agreed and in a minute or two when I get done speaking, him and I are going to sneak out of this house and go see a group of boys about proper etiquette when dealing with social peers.

Also, I've noted upon arriving in town that it is severely lacking in Chinese take-outs so I'm getting kind of hungry.

I'm basically writing to tell you that I miss you and I wish I could get the hell home but every time I try, I get diverted.

It's almost as if there is this invisible force or being who is in control of my life and is physically preventing me from being in the same room as you because they have other plans for me.

I know it sounds crazy but this is how I feel. I have NEVER been away from Rhy'Din this long.

I practically built that town if you consider that all the hotels and motels in the place were erected just to compete for my business.

I wish I could give you a solid timeframe of my return but I am unable to.

What I can say is that your friendship has been invaluable to me all the days I have known you and while I have told you many, many times how much I love you like you are my sister, I never really told you that I have always appreciated and been thankful FOR you.

One day we will meet again my friend.

Until then, give those bastards Hell.

Love you,


My dearest Anpu,

There is no excuse sufficient enough to explain my extended absence so I will not make any. Gren is the reason I am not keeping you warm at night and why, after all this time has passed since our most romantic of betrothals, I still do not carry your name.

I realize you have always pushed for patience when dealing with him and I have tried to honor your wishes to the best of my ability, only slightly denting his head with my fists or whatever blunt object is within my reach at times, but the time for polite discourse and kid-gloves is over.

Now I wish to have his heart in a jar over our bedroom mantel but I do not wish for you to take any action, my beloved. I merely ask your permission to be the one to do this terrible, if not overdue, deed.

I believe this would make a fitting gift for our (inevitable?) nuptials and would set the stage for what is sure to be a long, happy marriage between us.

If only I were not plugging a leak with some meatpuppet's head and dealing with this harpy screaming in my ear about her eldest son and breadwinner being dead, I might be able to actually sit down with you and plan what is sure to be the biggest wedding Rhy'Din's ever had and that would include Grimm marrying Zaleth and Rayfe marrying Imari. The food sucked at the latter though. I never told them but that fish was OFF, I don't care WHAT Decker said.

I will fill you in on the details of what I've been doing and why when and if I should ever return home to you and the children. We do still HAVE children, yes?

Please do see that Chef is taking good care of our Horus and you.

Sweetheart, I miss you so very terribly and wish we could be together. I feel like we spent more time together when you were married to What's-Her-Face and now that we actually CAN be together, we aren't! It's so unfair!

For the injustice perpetrated against you via Gren's cruel hand, I shall avenge thee. This I swear.

But right now I have to go because this mop ain't doing the trick.

I love you.

I always have.


Your Beautiful One


Your deranged pony wrote me a letter and while I have lots to say on the matter of how the hell could it be literate and actually do this, I recall I once had a talking voodoo doll named Arthur who was just as mouthy and as a result, I shouldn't really talk even if both of them can.

I like Alvin.

The horse.

Whatever it is.

I do.

Still on the fence whether I truly like you or not but that's where I'm at right now. NO, actually where I'm at right now is trapped in a shipping container bound for Hong Kong. I thought I'd kill some time here by revealing to you more of my thoughts but this guy next to me is snoring so loud and I'm debating whether or not to rip his nose off his face and feed it to the guy next to him who has been whimpering in the dark for the last hour and really pissing me off.

They just don't make men like they used to.

I even think that if you were here with me you'd be having a better time of this and you're claustrophobic! This is what is getting me through this grueling ordeal.

The "What Would Gren Do?" game I play with myself whenever I'm faced with ridiculous circumstances such as the one I find myself in now.

I do this because what I would do never really seems to be the right solution or so you and every cop, lawyer and judge I ever met has told me.

Yesterday I was using the disembodied head of one of my most recently expired lovers as a plumbing device to stop a leak, today I'm packed like a sardine in a dark box headed towards a city I should love given I have a slight obsession with its cuisine but hate on principle because one time the Emperor Wu disgraced me badly and I was unable to exact my revenge before he died.

I'm still torn up about it, to be quite honest.

You know what else I'm torn up about?


Yes you read me right! YOU are the CAUSE of my LENGTHY absence from a town I grew up in and you only RECENTLY adopted!

You and your damn grandmother who I might point out makes fabulous cookies and I could so learn from her if I could just get past the part about her being related to YOU!

I'm coming back with or without your cooperation!

And when I do I'm gonna beat the hell out of you for what you've put me through this last year! I don't know HOW you've done this but you are the architect of my misery and I will get you for this!

So get in all the kisses you can for that girlfriend you love miniaturizing and stuffing in your pocket because when I come back it's going to be PAIN CITY for you, bub!


There is an unidentified smell in this compartment.

You're gonna die bad for this, Grenny.


Your sister MAYBE
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Post by JewellRavenlock » Wed Jun 07, 2017 3:32 pm

My Darling Killa,

Will you be ashamed to call me your dearest ever friend if you know I shed tears upon receiving your letter? I promise that there is nothing unusually wrong with my brainpan these days neither have I reverted to my homeless appearance of two years ago, but I have been enduring under great distress these last few months and a letter from you made my selfish little heart (which now has a hole in it) so glad!

There are friends and then there are those who are more than friends, and you my bestie are forever my nearest and dearest more-than-a-friend for all time.

I’m sorry I never responded to your letter from February. I rather inconveniently died at the hands of Kalamere Ar’Din several days after I received your correspondence. You remember Lord Ar’Din? I know there seemed to be a time when you thought he and I would marry (and we argued rather fiercely over the matter), but I can assure you now that it will certainly never come to be. I’ve been quite depressed over the entire affair, but I have found such delicious new company! I have a new beau named Zandrick. He’s rather nice even for a mortal. Every time he sees me, he wants to tear all my clothes off and screw me six ways to Sunday. We have such fun. The other day, we did it in the bathroom of the Dragon but only because it had been cleaned shortly beforehand. Otherwise I never would have considered it because of the germs, you know.

I’m trying to make up for lost time because (now, don’t be alarmed) there was a while there where I could not have sex! It was terrible, Tara. I thought I would die all over again. Perhaps I would have been able to use the cellular phone that you purchased for me, but ever since that time I brought it in the bathtub with me, the stupid thing won’t vibrate anymore. What good is that?

Fortunately, I have been doing therapy of a physical nature and I can now have all the sex I want! I don’t even have to worry too much that I will drop dead right in the middle. I doubt whoever it was would ever forgive me if I did! Can you just imagine? To celebrate, I slept with Cane and Sal at Beltane. You won’t be cross about that, will you? They’re so yummy!

I really do wish you would come back. The place is abominably run over with meat puppets these days. It’s really unfortunate. Everywhere I go, there they are! Just staggering around brainlessly and no one else seems a bit concerned.

Although so much of my time is spent stringing along new beaus, I have been a good friend and made sure to watch over both Gren and Anubis! Aren’t you proud? Your dearest Anpu was my loyal baron during my reign as Overlord. Did you know I was Overlord? I called myself The Empress Overlady. Doesn’t that have a very regal ring to it? Unfortunately, Myria Graziano bested me just the other night and took my Overlord title. It was only because I did not get much sleep that day. I can’t sleep much anymore and there is no one to have a tea party with while I’m awake.

Do you remember Myria Graziano? Her brothers were both so cute! She kicked my in the head.

I cut off all my hair after I “passed away” and glamoured it black. It looks very fetching. And despite my untimely death and resurrection, I did investigate Gren’s connections with Clamtrude. Unfortunately, I have gone and forgotten what I discovered. Did you know that iron to the heart of a faerie is rather damaging? There have been ever so many side effects that I have suffered including memory loss at times. You will be horrified when you see me (I say when and not if because I refuse to believe we are to be parted forever) because my breasts are practically non-existent these days. I can wear such daringly low dresses now, though. Not that having bigger breasts ever stopped me before!

Rompers are “in” these days. How do you feel about these? I haven’t quite decided yet, but I’ve been wearing them anyway.

I will interview Gren again discretely if you want me to. He doesn’t run from me these days. I think he might be suffering from depression. You should suggest he see a doctor about that. It could be very serious!

Please write me back when you can! I miss you.


Love you,


P.S. Kal only killed me because I asked him to, so I guess you shouldn’t be upset with him over that (even if Issy still is) even though I kind of hope you are even for a little while. I told him that I loved him right before and then he broke up with me after. I stopped crying about it though. It doesn’t seem worth it anymore. Mason and Eva told me to burn some of his stuff, so I did that. It didn’t make me feel any better.
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Post by Gren Blockman » Sat Jun 17, 2017 8:56 pm

Dear Queen of Evil Incarnate:

I’m just as bewildered as you about how Alfred could write you a letter. I asked him about it and he told me to hold my horses. They he laughed like he just made a funny joke, so I asked him again. He said just because I have a problem with the ladies it doesn’t mean he has to, so why don’t I mind my own business.

Let me break your most recent letter down into several important questions. How am *I* responsible for you not being in RhyDin? Not that I’m complaining. I’ve stopped having panic attacks every time I hear the name “Tara” while I’m walking through the city. Question 2, How am *I* responsible for you not marrying Anubis? If you (and he) want to marry, then go for it! Don’t drag me into your millennia long love affair. Question 3, I have a Grandmother? And why would she bake you cookies and not me?

Why can’t you channel all that rage and anger into more useful endeavors, rather than focus it all on me? Take me for example. The plight of the RhyDin Round Leafed Birch has been weighing on my mind, and the minds of everyone, I’m sure. So did I get mad and pound my fist on the table and write letters to people I know saying I’m going to kill them as if it’s all their fault? No! I made a painting! It wasn’t a very good one, I admit, but it was the spirit behind it. I’m sure Lucy (That’s Mitford, not the character you refer to as “Lucy Goosey” from my favorite adult drama, Confessions of Eternal Love) will give me another chance to unlock my artistic abilities. One day.

Izira says hello. No, really. She’s trying to be nice. We’re sitting by the fire under an afghan and deciding whether we want to play Parcheesi or Chinese Checkers tonight. She knows just how to make me happy, if you know what I mean.

Good luck with your metal box,


P.S. Izira’s teaching me Backgammon. It’s the oldest game in the world, from what I’ve been told. Isn’t that EXCITING?
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Post by Tara » Tue Jul 04, 2017 9:22 pm

Dearest Moonbat,

Years and years ago before you were even a zygote in your reproductive vessel's ovarian chasm, Jewelsie, myself and an adorable little pixie known as Amthy used to conduct tea parties in a clubhouse we all owned equally, deep into the woods of Rhy'Din. Meat puppets from far and wide, known then as our "friends", used to come and take tea with us while sharing their various tales of dread and woe which were making them miserable but after the four star royal treatment by us three everyone left feeling a little better about life.

This was part of my contribution to Rhy'Din society. What you might call a "humanitarian effort" on my part.

You know what else was?

When Zonker, a cantankerous and disagreeable old bastard I was always at war with, started to crow in the Red Dragon Inn how he wished he had the money to erect an orphanage to house all the street scamps whose idiotic parents dumped them onto the cobblestone without a second thought, I, out of my own pocket, donated a SIZEABLE sum, anonymously, to him through a third party we were both mutually acquainted with so his dream would be realized. Then when they dropped the cornerstone and actually started to build the damn thing, I watched from the shadows Zonker surveying his dream coming to fruition and smiling. And, I, too, smiled. Just a little.

Years later when he came to me and began hitting me with in the leg with his cane as he was fond of doing when he wasn't throwing cake at my head, he bought me a drink and raised it in my honor and thanked me for what I had done years earlier.

I simply sipped my glass of wine and stared at him silently. You should know I always hated wine but I drank it for him.

Because when a man like Zonker raises a toast in your name, you don't say BOO and you behave yourself even if internally it is killing you to do this. You sit there and you let it happen because there's probably never going to come another time when it will so you soak it in and you relish every second and then when it's all over you brag about it to your "friends" because they sure as Hell aren't going to get honored by Zonk or anyone of his respectable caliber and you know this.

In this, you have achieved the impossible and BY GOD MAN IT FEELS GOOD!

I have achieved many "impossibles".

I have drank with the likes of old Fenris Wulf, crossed swords with the Goblin King of the Goblinoide Horde, crept from rooftop to rooftop with the assassins of Murder Incorporated and OMEN respectively, ducked many a tomahawk thrown at me by the legendary Red Dragon Inn barkeep Hunter, and played chess with none other than Sir Ghost.

I have, these several thousand years, been fortunate enough to have given birth to not one but TWO men who went on to become generals and then guild commanders in the days of Rhy'Din's First Era, the time when the guilds were plentiful in these lands.

In total, I have given birth to twenty one children and those who are still drawing breath do not even know I exist. I prefer it that way. It's easier. I will probably spawn another twenty or so children before the last of the stars die out and we Immortal are bathed in the same perpetual darkness there was prior to The Dawn of Man.

I tell you this not for accolades and praise but because I want you to know that there was a time when I did "good things". I want you to know that I still have the capacity to do them too. I just don't anymore. I gave up trying to pretend I was anything like these mouth-breathing imbeciles who simultaneously were pretending to like me.

Because "friends" come and go, Grenny. I've had hundreds, perhaps thousands of "friends" in my time. Sure, they are great when they can get something from you or when they think that by being seen in public with you it might curry them favor with someone else, but when you choose to break up the monotony by choosing to work for, say, a despicable person known as a slaver, your "friends" dry up real fast and your family runs for the hills as well.

They don't ask you WHY you did this because THAT MIGHT BE THE ONLY QUESTION WORTH ASKING OF YOU, but rather they make assumptions, they pull out labels which they use to identify you for others, thinking for them, instead of allowing others to formulate their OWN opinions of you and they demonize you.

I watched people who were maids of honor at some of my fifty weddings VANISH right before my very eyes when I did things which went against what they said were their beliefs. I never faulted anyone for standing by their principles but I DO, however, fault them for breaking an oath. Oaths like the ones they took when they SWORE to be my friend FOREVER. So, forgive me if I don't believe they believe what it is they said they did since they are not known for keeping their word, hmm?

You and your ilk don't really know what FOREVER is like because you'll never have to deal with it but I do.

It must've been fun for you to write "If you (and he) want to marry, then go for it!" and I'm sure your and Izira got a chuckle out of it collectively not realizing that the mere fact WE CAN MARRY NOW is so precious to Anubis and I, I cannot think of anything more sacred we both have cared about in all of our two existences.

Imagine being FORBIDDEN from marrying your beloved Izira. Kept apart first by an angry and VIOLENT father who, aside from being a lunatic, also happens to be a vengeful GOD. Then, later by a marriage to a woman your father "conveniently" introduces you to, even though it was made to look like a sheer accidental meeting nothing could be further from the truth. Later still, having to watch as your Izira marries not one, but FIFTY MEN, year after year, night after night, and wondering when the insanity and heartache will ever end, all while being conscious of the fact that YOU CANNOT DIE.

That this madness MIGHT LAST FOREVER.

That you may NEVER escape it!

See that's the point the meat puppets miss about us Immortals and especially about the First Angelic Host. They like to lay all this blame at Lucifer's feet for starting the war when it was THEIR GOD who created the drama in the first place!

They weren't jealous because God loved Man, Gren.

They were jealous that God gave Man the ONE THING they were inexplicably DENIED!

The Right to Die.

While you PAINT OUT YOUR FEELINGS, and sit in semi-circles in dimly-lit rooms, rocking back and forth and humming over peach-scented candles praying for world peace and the RhyDin Round Leafed Birch not to be logged into extinction with your FRIENDS, me and my kind are peering curiously into funeral parlors, hearts heavy, as we watch yet ANOTHER family say goodbye to one of their loved ones, knowing we will NEVER get OUR TURN.

But Anubis?

He's got it the worst of us all.

Not only is he charged with preparing bodies for the afterlife, he has to usher these vile and UNDESERVING bastard mortals INTO the afterlife, all the while knowing that while he is the Keeper of the Veil?

He will never be a permanent resident OF IT.

Yea though it is immensely FUN to murder you privileged few, I don't actually do it for the fun of it. I do it because for those brief seconds when a mortal's blood is running through my fingertips, I get to vicariously experience as I lay my hand down upon their chest, feeling them breathe their very last breath, what it MIGHT BE LIKE TO DIE.

I have enough money to buy out this city three times over and that's just my personal fortune, not what Anubis and I have together and I can never BUY this elusive mystery known as Death.

I am going to marry Death and yet not even he can give me what it is I seek.

I tried. I asked him. Begged him even. Brought him his own blade and Scales. He stopped speaking to me for half a year because he felt what I had asked of him was so sacrilegious as to defy all logic and reason.

Anubis is OK with his immortality.

Me? Not so much.

I'll never get over the fact that I was engineered for the sole purpose of bringing about AN END to ALL OF MANKIND, helping to kill the very last of them, and after I do what it is I was created to do, I don't even get a chance to JOIN THEM.

See, Grenny, THAT is MY HELL.

That in the end, after everything is all said and done, prophecy fulfilled and I have SERVED my ONE and TRUE PURPOSE, I still will Remain.

So, tonight, as you read this, all cozied up next to your Izira, sipping your Chai tea and talking about your next ecological protest du jour, remember these two things:

1. That as much as I like to harass the hell out of you, I CHOSE YOU to be MY friend, not because I want to kill you but because you are a man who DOES stand by his word and it means something to me, even though I'm as evil as they come.


2. Don't ever take the fact that you CAN love Izira for granted, not one single moment. Anubis and I, what we have, was hard-won. It is not a love I would wish on anyone, mortal or otherwise, because what did we really gain after all these long years? The ability to finally be together?

Your love is special because it's FLEETING.

Even it if only lasts fifty years, it has an expiration date and is therefore very special.

It's the kind of love that happens, once in a lifetime, like Zonker raising a toast to you.

Our love is never going to end like our lives never will.

It will Remain when all else has died.

How special a love could it be then if no one is around to witness our joy?

Regretfully yours,

The Whore of Babylon
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Post by Gren Blockman » Sat Jul 08, 2017 9:35 pm

Dear Tara-hole-in-my-heart:

Normally when I write a letter to you, it is to express two things. 1) The utter bewilderment and horror of whatever your latest missive to me causes my poor brain to suffer, and 2) my willingness to reply to you regardless of reason number one, so you do not pepper me with *more* letters because you say I’m ignoring you. So for the sake of changing things up, I’m going to take a different route.

You say I don’t understand your romance between ‘Anpu’ and you. But I may understand it more than you think I do. And you are wrong on several different levels.

I *do* understand what it feels like to be kept from marrying the one you love more than anything. Don’t you realize that I’ve been with Izira for three and a half years and we haven’t married yet? And no, it’s not gamophobia. Although goodness knows I’m surprised its not. It’s actually a complicated story.

Izira told me that she broke up with her last boyfriend, Alain, because their relationship conflicted with his ability to do his job. So he chose his profession over her. Now I find myself in a similar spot. It’s not that I’m not willing to give up being a Ranger for her. The problem is that if I do, I will lose the last part of my former life.

When I was found in RhyDin, I was burning and covered in blood. I was shuffling towards a Magical Academy outside of the city. The men who found me said the only thing I could remember was my name, and my clothes signified that I was a Ranger. They asked my current guildmaster to take me in, hoping it would jar my memory. But I never found out anything about who I was. And I’m afraid that if I give up the life of a Ranger, then I’ll never know. Which leads into the second part.

I’m more aware of the ‘curse’ of immortality than you might think. You see, if I do give up being a Ranger, and I join Izira permanently at the Inn, then my very life-force will be tied to that realm just like Izira’s is. When someone dies in her realm, tied to it like she is, they become some form of ghost. I can’t tell, really, but the former innkeeper, Jeremiah, still exists. He has to parade around as a cat sometimes, because it’s a form that takes less energy to maintain. So basically when Izira and I ‘die’, we’ll still be around in one form or another. Personally I hope I become something half way dignified like a tiger or a hawk. I can’t imagine spending eternity as a mouse.

And for the third part. Izira is still adjusting to having a long term relationship. Most of her previous romances never lasted long, and she had spent most of the fifteen years before we got together alone at the Inn. I’m trying to give her time to get used to the idea that I’m around and not going anywhere. But things like that take a while, I suppose.

I don’t mean to make it sound like there’s trouble in paradise. She’s my favorite person in the world, and I can’t wait to finish my duties so I can go to the Inn to be with her. These have been the best three and a half years of my life. But those decisions are big ones, for the both of us.

Thankfully, she understands, and so do I. So we’re going to take our time, and eventually, things will work out. And I know this because I don’t want anything in this world more than I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

So just to let you know, I do know a few things about not being able to marry the one you love, or immortality, or clubhouses deep in the woods. Ha! And you were making fun of my treehouse!

I hope that didn’t seem to “stream of consciousness” type of a letter for you, but I’m kind of in a tight spot right now. Alfred got mad because a local farmer caught him sneaking apples from his orchard, and I’m trying to mediate between the two. Well, not mediate, the farmer has a sword, and Alfred is using his horn in a duel over apples. So before I get stabbed, let me send off this letter real quick.


P.S. My preservation efforts for the RhyDin Round Leafed Birch is going swell. I saved seven trees just by selling Izira’s Luscious Lemon Bars! I’m thinking of setting up a preserve. We’re going to need more Lemon Bars.
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Post by Tara » Wed Jul 12, 2017 8:31 pm


Thank you for your letter and your kind words. I know this is going to seem like I am rushing with my response and as a result have very little interest in anything you have said, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I have loads of interest it's just I'm in the middle of something here which involves a donkey, a very angry mother goose and quite possibly the dumbest meat puppet I have ever had the misfortune of watching interact with the natural world. They are literally having an argument over a golden egg and since we are hand-cuffed together, the meatpuppet and I, I am forced to not only be a part of this ridiculous situation but listen to it as well.

Annnnnnnnnnd the donkey just kicked the meatpuppet and now he's screaming for a medic. So there's this.

I'm also starving and haven't been able to eat in like twelve hours so I'm a little "hangry" as they say. In a minute or so I'm going to unscrew this idiot's head off his shoulders and force the donkey and goose to engage in gladiatorial combat for the pieces of him I am not going to eat and am willing to part with.

It's going to be glorious.

I'll spare you the details though, don't worry.

Listen to me very carefully.

And, by that I mean actually heed my words this time and don't discount what I say out of hand because you think I'm being operatic or lying. This is the most unlyingest letter I am ever going to write to you or anyone else in my entire miserable existence so frame it if you get the chance. It'll be worth money some day. Those idiots may not like me very much now but they won't mind auctioning off my clothing and personal items, if, in the future, I should actually cease to exist or just disappear. Remember that.

They pretend to love you while you can do something for them but when you're gone? They cannibalize the hell out of everything you had, stood for and owned.


Okay here goes, Ranger boy.

1. You're not going to ever die. I told you when I first met you, if you recall, that you were special. I was not referring to the fact that you have no intelligence but rather that unlike most meat puppets I have encountered, I actually don't want to murder you even though I have tried many times. I only tried because I wanted to make sure I was right about you and we're going on four years now that we know each other and I haven't been successful yet. So I'm going to go with I'm right about you because I can scarce remember a time when I ever was unsuccessful. You are immortal. In some fashion. I just don't know which. Your story about waking up with amnesia supports this. When I eventually see you again I'd like to subject you to some hypnosis and finally get to the bottom as to what in the hell you actually ARE. Please don't cringe. I'll have Jewelsie there with us so she can hold your hand and glamour you into thinking you're getting a massage when in reality I'll be poking through your brainpan with my own telekinetic powers and dissecting your memories like frog legs in a laboratory.

I know that just triggered you and after reading this you're going to go like kiss a frog or apologize to one on my behalf. Please don't. That is still SO WEIRD.

2. Stop working right now and go be with your woman. If you end up trapped in the alternate dimension that is that Inn you both love so much, you have my word that I will get you out. Izira too. I survived a trek to Anthalas prison once to meet with Mourne D'Urlane, without his invitation and manage NOT to be murdered by his assassins, I can get you out of an inter-dimensional blackhole.

No one got into Anthalas prison alive and if they did, they sure as Hell didn't come out of it that way and that's if they ever got out. Many went there, never to be seen again.

You just have NO IDEA how terribly effective I can be when it comes to getting what it is I want.

And I wanted in that prison.

Also? Mourne was so impressed by this audacious feat that he hired me.

You should know Mourne never hired anyone personally. He had people for that. Lots of people. Too many to count. Aside from myself and Jewel (not our Jewelsie, another one, I loved her too), his Second in Command, I don't know of anyone else he personally recruited into his fold.

His Dark Enforcers to Hire, or DETH, was one of the highest paid and most successful guilds in all of Rhy'Din's history.

It's a shame they're not still around, I would've rather seen you work for him than go pin up used paper towels on a laundry line because it's "saving the earth" or whatever it is you say every time you do the weird shit you do.

The point is, it'll happen, you can bank on that. Even if that means I might have to hock a necklace or two Anubis bought me to pay for whatever means necessary to do it, I will. And, he'll help me because he knows how much you mean to me and deep down, my man's a sucker for love. Even if he goes around making everyone uneasy and scares the hell out of many more, please trust me when I say Anubis is a fan of romance. We fought like Hell for ours, we can do so again for yours. And we're fabulous as a team when we actually work together and not against one another like we sometimes do when we each wish to get our way and have one of our "fights". We Immortal are sometimes like petulant children. It keeps our otherwise dull lives from getting boring. When and if you actually get around to remembering what living forever is like and stop pretending to be a forest ranger by day environmental warrior by night, you'll agree with me I think.

But if I'm wrong and you ARE NOT Immortal than now is not the time to be cleaning up the garbage the kids leave in the campgrounds each weekend, tying yourself to trees to prevent logging or educating people on the dangers of what plastic does to a dolphin's intestines and then imitating a dolphin's scream to get your point across.

Really? As Rena would say.

That's just overkill, dude.

Now's the time you spend the ONLY time you have been given to be with the one who gives rise to every happy feeling you've had since meeting her, the lady for whom your heart sings and whom you have devoted yourself to.

Years ago, back when this body of Tara Rynieyn was still mortal, I walked out of an egyptian temple in a place known as El Kab, turning to see Anubis standing at the top of the steps watching me go, and I swear to you, I thought I saw him crying even from that far away. He didn't understand why I was leaving and I couldn't tell him it was because his father gave me no other choice.

I didn't see him again for two years and when I did he was married to Dawn.

We were friends once, her and I, but never again after that day.

Anubis and I were friends once too. Also, never again after that day.

All these long years he thought I left because I didn't want him and it wasn't until seven years ago, when I begged him to cut my heart out of my chest and end the misery of having to get up every day knowing he was still with HER and he declined, that he finally learned the truth and that I had never rejected him as he was lead to believe.

I left BECAUSE I loved him and that's what you do when your back's up against a wall and you have a God threatening to undo you in ways you cannot even BEGIN to imagine.

But I could imagine them because I was partly capable of them being mortal THEN and I am so capable of them NOW being what I am, it's not even a laughing matter.

Still, in the back of my mind, I know, if Set ever did emerge again? I'd run like my own hounds of Hell were chasing me because that man is NOT to be trifled with and he scares the hell out of even me.

My heart was torn from me the day I left Anubis, seeing the utter defeat upon that man's face and in his eyes, knowing I was breaking his heart. Something by proclaiming my love to him in private, I was sorta promising NEVER to do and then did.

Somehow through the years, I survived but there was always this ever-present dull ache every time I would leave after him and I would meet in secret.

Always this terrible regret I could never shake.

Our love wasn't supposed to be this dirty, hidden thing that people whispered about when they had nothing else to gossip about.

It was supposed to be this awesome thing others would want to mimic because it was THAT awesome.

It's always going to be the scandalous thing because Dawn happened. As much as I would like to pretend she didn't, go about what could loosely be called my "life" and act like everything's great that I can live forever, be as evil as I want with impugnity, have all this money and I'm with the guy I've been crazy about since I was actually sixteen years old?

She had him FIRST.

I'll never be able to erase that as long as I am in existence.

You, on the other hand, have the ability to be with the one you love and if all that is stopping you from dicking around and doing it is your atoms MIGHT be split into a million pieces and you come out afterwards as a mouse, then YOU DO IT.

I will personally glue you back together, bits of flesh by itty little bit until you are whole again.

Until you are GREN once more.

Your duty isn't to the trees or the lakes but to the one you LOVE, kid.

Get your ass to that Inn before it's too late.

Tomorrow, you little twerp, may not be promised to you after all.

Don't wake up regretting you didn't listen and wishing you had.

And when I get back?

The farmer's going to wish Alfie HAD gored him with his horns.

I love that demented little horse of yours and I love you too.

Do what I said.


- Tara
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Post by Tara » Wed Jul 12, 2017 9:41 pm

My most beloved Empress,

No, I could never be ashamed of you if I tried and in my case, not being able to feel shame ever, it would definitely be trying. I can, however, feel horror though; yet learning that you were once again EXPUNGED does not, in this case at least, fill me with such.

At least this time you didn't come back thinking your ex Stephen had kidnapped a child you never actually birthed with him but is, in reality, his own daughter he had with an entirely different woman who is, umm, NOT YOU.

I can deal with Zandrick and the idea of him even though his name sounds like a place where one's hopes and dreams go to die and could double as a medication one gives to Tuberculosis patients as they ARE dying, but doesn't in any way, you know, CURE THEM.

I think the meat sticks refer to that as a "placebo."

"Hey there, Mary, still choking up your pancreas, again? There, there, have some ZANDRICK, you'll feel better in no time."

If he gets your toes to curl and your eyes to roll back in your head, I'll refrain from making fun of him IF I ever actually get to meet the lad and aren't wrestling a golden egg out of a donkey's mouth as I am right at this very moment while narrating this to an idiotic meatpuppet who just punched a goose in its eye but has realized his own life is in jeopardy if he doesn't write down what I say.

His name is Ned.

Ned is a tool.

Zandrick probably is too but that's just my protective nature over you talking again.

You had a threesome with Sal and Cane-Toad? NICE.

You know what's better than Sal and Cain, though?


I know. Been there. Done that. LOVED IT ALL NINE HUNDRED TIMES.

Okay enough of the trips down memory lane. I am going to assume you are clothed and Zandy is taking a cold shower to calm the hell down because (and am I actually advocating for this? JESUS what is happening to me?!) there's a time for sexy time and there's a time for him to just leave you the hell alone because you're both not rabbits and you have things you need to be doing like read this letter.

You have my permission to bust him in the mouth if he comes close to you while you are doing this or gives you any indication he wants to go for round FOUR.

I hope you are sitting down because I have some things to tell you. Some unpleasant things I left out when last we were together because I didn't think the time was right especially since you were in such a fragile mental state and were living like you crawled out of a hovel and ate out of tin cans routinely and had therefore lost all ability to reason with.

Does Zandrick know about your stint being...I dare not say homeless again as that tends to get a negative how's about DISENFRANCHISED?

Yea though our bond of sisterhood and friendship is unbreakable, there is a slight clause in there somewhere which states that if either of us should lose our true minds, it is acceptable to lie to save the other's face.

So I lied like a rug because you were not sound in the brainpan, dear, and your face needed saving.

Just like that time you beat the mermaid to death with the boat oar, I did what I needed to do to help my best friend get through whatever crisis was causing her to behave like she had contracted rabies and was on a rampage.

Besides, what's one less mermaid in the world going to hurt?

The fact that she drowned as a result? EPIC TAKEDOWN.

Should totally go in your Greatest Hits album right next to mine on the mantel.

The truth, lovey, is that being the Desecrator of Dreams, Kalamere, unfortunately is not afforded the same romantic luxuries as a guy like Zandy boy is. Which is why he spent less time romancing you and more time gutting you like a fish. It's in his nature and it cannot be avoided. It was bound to happen and honestly if I hadn't been kidnapped by those aliens and then attacked by a giant gorilla in addition to all the OTHER crazy things which have happened to me over the last year or so I've been away, I most likely would've been able to stay his hand.

If only for a week or so.

The training someone like him goes through coupled with the knowledge that they are THE single greatest warrior to ever grace the earth is a responsibility too great to bear sometimes. But it gets worse when they develop feelings for someone, especially someone as unique and AMAZING as you are, and they are forced to choose between being what they were BORN to be versus being what their heart is telling them they should be instead.

In other words, he's not allowed to date, just like I'm technically not allowed to drive even though I do (eyes closed, screaming by the way, driving scares me BAD) and possess the bodies of sixteen year old girls who recently became a vampire so she could be with the one she LOVED forever and ever and ever and then watch him marry someone else and thus RIP HER FRICKIN HEART OUT and negate the ENTIRE POINT OF HER BEING A VAMPIRE SO SHE WAS THEN FORCED TO LIVE FOREVER AND EVER WATCHING HIM BE MARRIED TO WHAT'SHERFACE AND THEN SWALLOW THE REVULSION EVERY TIME SHE FOUND OUT OH HEY GUESS WHAT HE KNOCKED HER UP AGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN WITH ONE OF HIS KIDS AND DEAR GOD WILL THIS MADNESS EVER END WHY DOES SHE GET TO HAVE HIS BABIES THE BITCH!


Digressed into personal waters there for a sec.

Where was I? Oh yes.


The Great Undoer.

Scripture only goes so far in the telling of what happens at the End of Days, lovey. But what it's left out, I can fill in for you. He plays a MAJOR starring role in it. Very major. So major you wouldn't even believe but trust me when I say, I've got less screen-time than he will.

And this lady he's courting now? Psh. Smoke and mirrors.


So as you can see, this is all for the best! He killed you because he respected you! He doesn't respect YOUR What'sHerFace! Not at ALL!

And that's the Kalamere you and I know. The man we both cherish for his undeniable charisma and stellar decision-making abilities even if sometimes he gets stabby and you end up dead, at least you know it's cause he cares!

Anyway, I'll get into more detail when I see you again as I've left QUITE a bit out.

Tell Zandy that if he pulls a "Kalamere" and makes you cry? I'm going to feed him to my dragon.

Which happens to be the size of any large metropolitan city, give or take a mile or two, take his very best pick.

Feet first.

While he's on fire.

And after I've forced him to watch me devour his SOUL and I've completely Kalamered his SPIRIT to boot.

So, he best be on his good behavior :)

I miss and love you!

See you soon!

P.S. No, Kal only killed you because he HAD to, your just asking him to was his Casus belli, so don't be upset at all. Hopefully when I get back I can speak with Isuelt and set her straight before she sics her minions on him and then causes all sorts of historical harm and terror. Wouldn't be the first time she's done it, won't be the last, as you well know.

Also, don't ever cry more over a man than he ever made you laugh while you were together. They don't deserve that kind of mourning, no matter how much we love them. Rest assured in the knowledge that Kal's new girl will meet a grisly fate and leave it at that. You, on the other hand, are a Fae Queen destined to rule MILLIONS. She's going to end up in a pine box with worms playing pinochle on what's left of her nose.

Besides, Zandy's going to be keeping you PLENTY busy and we can't very well be disappointing him, now can we?

P.S.S. Mason is a murdering bastard who killed my meatball. NEVER forget that. I like him but I won't ever TRUST him again. Eva's cool, though. Tell her I said hi.

P.S.S.S. And if Gren should look like a mouse soon, DON'T PANIC! I'm working on a solution for that problem as we speak. He's going to give you a whole SOB STORY how I am the reason he's been changed at the cellular level and can you BELIEVE my malevolence and just nod your head and smile at him like I do whenever I feed one of his little gnome friends into my wood chipper and he FLIPS OUT and calls me unstable, unhinged, unsettling and evil.

Born and raised, baby. Muhahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa!
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Post by Gren Blockman » Sat Sep 16, 2017 9:27 pm

Dear Eater of Large Quantities of Gyros,

Unlike how you described your last letter, I did take plenty of time to formulate a response to your latest correspondence. Basically because I wanted to put into the proper words how I feel about the relationship I have with Izira.

I don’t need to be married to Izira to be committed to her, and you of all people should know that. What’s your marriage tally up to by now, 52? 53? Counting me (which was completely against my will I might add. Invoking an ancient forest ritual while I was personally not present does not count), 54? In my heart, I don’t want to be with anyone but her, and she feels the same about me. Even if that is as far as we get, that is more than enough for me.

Izira supports me in my quest to find who I was. That is why I continue to be a Ranger. It’s going on four years now, and her concern for me hasn’t wavered. By the way, did you know that the four year anniversary gift is Fruit and/or Flowers? Isn’t that cool? Totally up my alley. And do you know what the traditional five year anniversary gift is? Go look it up, I dare you.

Anyway, I’m more than happy with how our relationship has been going. I’ve stopped breaking into alternative hot sweats and cold sweats whenever I get near feminine hygiene products (although I still get the lip quivers), and I can now walk past the adult magazine rack without stammering or holding my hands up to my eyes like blinders. Love has had such a positive psychological effect on me, it’s wonderful.

I’m glad you like Alfred. He is bumping me with his nose as I write this. He wants me to tell you about how he got cast in a commercial for Unicorn Car Insurance. All he had to do was throw his head back so his mane blew in the wind, and kick his front hooves in the air dramatically. He really thought he was a big time celebrity until he found out there weren’t any apples in the deli tray during the post-wrap-up party. Then he took a big dookie on the set in protest. Needless to say, no more commercials.

Don’t worry, I don’t plan on getting vaporized or dying in other gruesome ways any time soon. I think I’ll be fine. I sure hope so. I mean . . . oh, you know what I mean.

Here’s hoping you’re using a level of self-control wherever you currently are and not hurting or annoying people like you usually do.

Your friend under extreme duress,

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Post by Tara » Thu Nov 16, 2017 10:33 pm


I know you're probably sipping on some Kale tea and singing to a flower but I need you to stop all that nonsense and read this letter carefully. I also understand that I tend to exaggerate situations and scenarios with you and as a result you have this sort of fatigue where you just flat out ignore everything I say to you but I'm asking you not to do that now.

Also, Kale tastes like ass and the flower is plucked which means it is no longer tied to its nutritional source (read: THE DAMN EARTH WHERE YOU RIPPED IT OUT FROM YOU WEIRDO) and you killed it. It's somewhat like if you had gone into a maternity ward and tore an umbilical cord out know what, never mind, you won't get the analogy because I just realized you don't actually know where babies come from.

If you guessed the ground? You're wrong. Those little bastards HATCH, okay? Whatever. Stay focused here.

There is a man.

His name is Kiraim.

Kiraim Marnestor to be exact.

Years and years ago before your great grandparents were even born Kiraim and I got friendly. REAL friendly.

I didn't commit any acts of violence upon him nor did he do the same to me but his wife kinda dropped dead and everyone said it was my fault. Pretty much how they treat me now. Things weren't ANY different back then with the exception that I didn't have to lose sleep wondering if you were smothered to death in the forest because you fell asleep amidst some giant mushroom caps and in an environmental fit of revenge against the human race as a whole, they singled you out and attacked you.

Damn you, man, I'd wish you lived in a house like a real boy.

So! Kiraim.

He is back in town. I don't know in what form as the last time I was informed of him I was told he was dead. Which grieved me. He was a good guy.

But he might not be so good now and for all I know he could be a giant crab-like creature with eight arms.

You just can't tell with my friends and former lovers as many of them were never normal when they were human and somewhere along the way, like me, they CHANGED.

You don't need to know what they changed into but I can assure you you'd be terrified if you were watching it all go down like I did.

One of my ex-husbands was eaten alive by badgers and the horrifying part of that whole story?

Is that after they got done spitting out the parts of him they didn't think tasted very good, he actually winded up looking BETTER than before they had started to eat him!

I live with this nightmarish memory. You just don't know.

Now I'm not a betting woman but if I was I'm thinking he might lurk around the circular contraptions at one point, calling out my name as he aimlessly searches for me and seeing as you break into hives whenever you hear my name, you're going to react, he's going to see you react and know you know me.

I STRONGLY advise you to be polite, answer any questions he may pose to you truthfully and to the best of your abilities (because he's going to know if you are lying and will probably chop your nose off -- he's NOT a patient man) and then claim some embarrassing stomach condition and run away from him.

After you get tired of running, I want you to stop and then start running again.

Show everyone on the way to wherever you are running to your Grr face but don't engage with them in any way.

You don't know who you can or can't trust.

I am trying my level best to get home but things just aren't going my way.

Do your best to entertain Kiraim if you should cross paths with him for ONLY as long as you can do so without acting strangely and causing him to question you.

You say you know me.

We are somewhat related. Distantly. Maybe my Uncle got it on with your Aunt and that's how. It doesn't matter. He won't be able to verify it.


And then gracefully leave.

That's all you have to do.

Let's not overcomplicate this like you do everything else just to piss me off.

Tell that shimmering horse of yours I miss him.

I kinda miss you too but then I remember you tried to feed me a Grenola Blockman.

I have to go. Tell Jewelsie if you see her to fire up her Friendship ring. She'll know what I mean. I have to speak with her.

Stay alive, little stupid hobgoblin!

I miss the hell out of you!


Your Distaaaaaaaaaaant Cousin
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Gren Blockman
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Post by Gren Blockman » Fri Nov 17, 2017 6:27 pm

Dear oh so NOW I’m your Distant Cousin,

You have to go and spring this on me. Now of all times.

You see, I’ve just been informed of a very scary and unsettling fact.

Did you know that cereal is actually soup?

You see, this all started when a fellow Ranger friend of mine was telling me that cereal was really a salad. The definition of salad is a dish consisting of a mixture of small pieces of food, usually and mostly vegetables. So flakes of corn, or barley, or wheat that make up your usual breakfast cereal are the vegetables, and you can consider the milk like salad dressing. Now I’m alright with salads. Lettuce. Tomatoes. Carrots. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, I found it downright fascinating. And being a plant person, it was the kind of minutiae that was just my cup of tea.

But then she told me you could also classify it as soup. You see, soup is a primarily liquid food, normally served hot (but not necessarily), made by combining meat or vegetables with some kind of liquid like water or stock. So there you go. Vegetables served in liquid.

Did you see what I’m getting at?

Maybe I should explain more. I’ve recently developed Soupaphobia. That should be an easy one, fear of soup. Before I went to live in the Real RhyDin House a few weeks ago, I was doing my patrols in the forest and came upon a group of Cyclops who were up to no good. I tried to hide behind a nearby tree to spy on them, but they smelled my “man-scent”, as they called it, and nabbed me. Then they put me in a big metal pot filled with water. They said they were going to make a nice “Man-estrone”. I can still feel the slices of onions and turnips bouncing off my head. Oh, it was horrible. Luckily for me, before they could light the fire, a dragon they had ticked off earlier flew by and started giving them a flame bath, so I was able to escape my watery grave and avoid my soupy fate.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to look at a bowl of soup since. Clam Chowder. Tomato with Basil. Even Chicken with Stars, which was a big favorite of mine.

And now CEREAL is a SOUP? I’ll never look at a bowl of Corn Flakes the same again.

So I have to look out for this Kiraim person now? How many more of your ex-relatives, ex-lovers, ex-whatevers are going to come out of the woodwork to terrorize me more than you have? And the one time being actually related to you might be a blessing, I’ve been demoted from Brother to Distant Cousin? Well let me just finish with this.

Thanks a lot for nothing.

Your Ex-Brother,

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Post by Tara » Mon Nov 27, 2017 10:20 pm


A "very scary and unsettling fact" is finding out that your ex-fiance has just risen from the grave after four millenia, is looking for you, will likely become very uncivil when he is told he was a father but was never told this by the mother (that's me in case you haven't figured it out), never got the chance to meet his kid because she was raised to think some OTHER guy was her Daddy when that wasn't exactly true and that his once beloved (also me) ONLY married his sworn-enemy because it MIGHT be beneficial in the future, she'd get a LOT of money out of the deal and a last name that would guarantee she'd be famous for the rest of what miserable life she lived after the fact.

That's what a scary and unsettling thing is. I realize you have very little in the way of ACTUAL very scary and unsettling facts to draw upon here but I have them in SPADES and trust me when I say that Kiraim isn't going to be happy to find out he lost his girl because he didn't have the CORRECT last name.

He was a Marnestor when he needed to be a LeVey.

Rhy'Din was a really nasty place years ago, Gren. You flounce around in your Ranger costume, pretending to be a comic book hero, saving old ladies kittens from trees and meanwhile if you lived back then, you wouldn't last a frickin DAY, son.

This isn't knocking you, it's just facts. A very scary and unsettling fact to be exact. You have too many conditions which would automatically disqualify you to be a functioning member of society back then.

The skeletons and vampires walking in the street, alone, would've put you in the asylum and THEN you'd be doing everything possible to get out since it was run by one of the craziest SOBs ever to live here. He was such a good friend too.

My point is you wouldn't have TIME to be worrying if soup was now a vowel and if your left toe now counted as a vegetable. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU EVEN WRITE TO ME WITH THIS LETTER, HMM?!


This is why I can't leave you. Why I can't just go on holiday and do Whorish Babylonian things without worrying about what YOU are going to get up to in my stead. And when I'm doing my thing and I DO MY THING, Gren, I DO THE HELL OUT OF MY THING, I can't be distracted with what you might be screwing up.

I gave you SIMPLE instructions before I left.

Be a good almost and once husband maybe brother.

Stay breathing.

Practice your Grr face.

Practice fighting with REAL weapons.

Don't make eye contact with Bob.

Get yourself MARRIED to your pocket prisoner you call a fiance.

Stop having all these weird fetish kidnap fantasies about her and treat her right.

Do NORMAL things.

Function like a NORMAL boy.

And what do I get instead?

Some farmer almost hacked your ear off.
I had to milk a cow with three utters.
You are worried you might have forgotten WHAT the HELL you even ARE. Who does this? Seriously.
Cereal scares the piss out of you.
Soup no longer makes any sense.
A monkey ATE my apartment building downtown but left its residents MY TENANTS homeless instead of doing ME a favor and eating them too.
Aliens tried to use me to start an intergalactic war in the name of an ex-husband of mine I AM actually afraid of but who doesn't remember ME as IF that is EVEN possible.
Your seahorse is an actor now.
You were probably burned for a lengthy period of time but have no scars.
And you eat chickens with stars in them. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

I'm leaving a lot out. I know this.

Just whatever you are doing or going to do after reading this DO NOT DO IT.
Just stay where you are and don't do a blessed thing.
Stand in one place, look around, wiggle your fingers, wiggle your toes and repeat this for days on end until I get home.

Don't speak to anyone, you are incapable of proper conversation.
Don't look at anyone or ask them how they are FEELING because we KNOW you LOVE talking about THE FEELS.

Just shut your mouth.
Sing to your little flowers.
Make out with your girlfriend with all the shades drawn lest the neighbors see and report you for indecency and just BE not whatever the hell you are until I can get back there and set your ass straight again.

And if you should see or meet a man by the name of Kiraim Marnestor..

If a man by the name of Kiraim Marnestor BURSTS into your house and demands to know if you know me, if you know where I am, how we met or anything else......


Get into the fetal position you do whenever I try to hug you, start that insufferable shrieking noise you make and he'll leave.

Christ I hope when I get home you aren't locked in a closet somewhere screaming about Lucky Charms.

What in the actual hell!

Stop being GREN and be NOTHING and NO ONE.

Right now.

That's an order you idiot.


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