The California Kid Slides Into Home

…he was not, however, playing baseball

 

The Doclopedia # 1,232

The Potawango Island Bestiary, Part Two: Gong Cows

 

From the notebook of Dr. Thaddeus Silkmelon:

 

After our grisly encounter with the Carnivorous Fig Tree yesterday, we were very much pleased to have a far more pleasant encounter this morning when our breakfast was interrupted by a species I have named Gong Cows.

 

Looking for all the world like Holstein cattle whose black & white had been replaced by yellow & blue, these gentle creatures strolled into camp to have a look around. We fed them some bread and biscuits and petted them. They, in turn, smelled us and seemed to generally approve of us.

It was as they began to leave out camp that they began making gong-like sounds ranging from rather deep to rather high and tinny. Miss Abigail remarked that it sounded just slightly more melodic than somebody dropping a load of assorted pie pans off a second story balcony. The rest of us tended to agree with her assessment.

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All About Jovian Cloud Demons

…a book for children

 

365 DAYS, 365 POSTS #26

 

The Doclopedia # 1,231

The Potawango Island Bestiary, Part Two: Carnivorous Fig Tree
From the notebook of Dr. Thaddeus Silkmelon:

 

Today, we walked many pleasant miles to the edge of the foothills that lead up into what I have named the Sierra Potawango Mountains. However, our pleasant day was brought to an abrupt halt when we encountered a particularly deadly form of plant life, the Carnivorous Fig Tree.

 

We had decided to stop near a small lake for a late lunch and Colonel Orpington remarked that not far away was a fine large fig tree laden with ripe fruit. We all stood looking at it as it’s branches swayed in the wind. Just then, a large elk approached the tree to partake of the fruit. He had just bitten into one when two things occurred.

 

First, Abner noted that there was no wind blowing. Then, the tree sprang to life, it’s branches grabbing hold of the elk and raising it up above the trunk. It then proceeded to first crush the life out of the poor beast, then rip it apart and drop the pieces into some orifice in the crown of the tree. It was a horrible sight to see. Within minutes, the deed was done and the tree went back to looking like a normal fig tree.

We vacated the area and had our lunch an hour later.

Chapter 917: In Which Our Hero, Clad Only In A Modest Nightshirt, Has Difficulty Exiting A School For Young Ladies

…they kept tackling him

 

365 DAYS, 365 POSTS #24

 

The Adventures of Captain Flame #3

The Grand Square of the Most Glorious City of Mabuuth was always busy, regardless of the hour of the day. There were hundreds of market stalls, dozens of taverns and inns, brothels, gambling halls and a hundred other business. There were also scores of tax collectors and agents of the Customs House, to say nothing of the City Guard. The latter were a presence throughout the Square and consisted of men and women you would definitely not want to piss off.

The bulk of Mabuuth’s, and Ardovia’s, population was human. The remainder was made up of Sea Elves, the odd looking Koboldin and a smattering of other humanoid races, none of whom were reptilian. That would be why all eyes in the immediate area turned to watch the Speaker’s Spire as Huma Dnilok, a Dragonborn, Climbed the 100 Steps of Free Speech. He was dressed in the full armor of a paladin of Bahamut and followed by a beautiful young human woman dressed in modest white robes. Once they reached the top, the paladin looked down upon the crowd, pressed the stone that would carry his voice throughout the Square and began speaking.

“Hear me, good people of Mabuuth, for I am here to tell you of a reckoning! Yes, a reckoning for your sins! I speak to you of the COMING OF BAHAMUT!”

Exactly one and a half miles away, a slightly pudgy and somewhat ordinary young human woman stepped into the Imperial Museum of Ardovia. She was accompanied by her husband, who was a tall muscular fellow, and her two young daughters. After paying the 8 coppers entrance fee, the four of them began wandering through the museum in the same manner as all the rest of the museum goers. Nobody spoke until they had reached the Hall of the Ancients.

“This is it, mates.” The mother may have looked chubby and domestic, but her voice, was far more commanding than one might expect. “Mister Vorastrix, Miss Arpagig, When we reach the display, you know what to do. Miss Caldwell, prepare to get to work.”

All three of them said a quiet “Aye, Captain before starting off down the hall.

At Speaker’s Spire, Dnilok was really getting into his speech. If he could show even one of these sinful humans the path to redemption via worshiping Bahamut, it would be a day well spent.

Below him, the vast majority of the sinners were more interested in how he looked, not what he was saying. Dragonborn seldom made it to Ardovia and never had one come here dressed as a paladin and preaching. This was a day to tell your grandchildren about.

The young lady standing behind Dnilok gave a quiet cough and the paladin knew he would not get to tell the story of Bahamut and the Wandering Merchant. Pity, because it was one of his favorites. Still, that cough was the agreed upon signal that in about three minutes, things were going to get very lively up at the museum. What was the term Miss Joplin had used? Ah, yes, “the shit will hit the fan”. Another strange human saying.

He continued his speech with renewed vigor.

Zeezee And The Difficult Pie

…it just would not cooperate

365 DAYS, 365 POSTS #23

 

Another short post tonight because it is late and I’m tired

As I mentioned the other day, I’m replacing old posts with new and hopefully interesting ones. These will be tagged in different ways, but my first one, from April of 2004 is up with the tag DOC FACTS. Other revised posts may get that tag or others. Anyway, go check it out and learn about my pet duck, Duck.

The Pancake Goblins And The Ice Cream Dwarves Go To War!

…it’s a really great smelling war

 

365 DAYS, 365 POSTS #22

 

The Doclopedia # 1,230

The Potawango Island Bestiary, Part Two: Gooey Wallaby

 

From the notebook of Dr. Thaddeus Silkmelon:

 

Today we continued our trek through the temperate forests and fields of this northern part of the island. The more I stroll along, the more I am reminded of the Mediterranean climate regions found in the rest of the world, especially in California. There are many large oaks here and it being springtime, wildflowers everywhere. There is also an abundance of wildlife, especially birds. Sadly, one species of wildlife was the cause of much aggravation to my dear friend, Abner Porkwaffle..

Around 10 in the morning, we saw a group of wallabys grazing in a small clearing. They looked much like any other medium sized species of wallaby, being a light brown with gray on the stomach and face. There were 18 individuals, mostly females with joeys in their pouches. They watched us, but like many creatures on this island, showed no fear.

Abner was taking photos of them, getting closer at what I considered an overly cautious speed. At some point, he must have crossed a line since they entire group began hopping rapidly toward him and, as we all noticed, oozing some sort of clear and highly pungent fluid from their bodies.

 

By the time they overtook poor Abner, they were fairly dripping this gooey substance. As he flailed about trying to drive them off (the smell gave the rest of us pause in helping him), the wallabys rubbed themselves on him, coating him in goo from head to foot. Not once did they try to bite, claw or kick him. Once he was covered and retching, the lot of them hopped off, the goo rapidly crystallizing and falling from their fur.

The goo on Abner did the same thing, but not for over an hour. Once crystallized, it had no smell and neither did Abner, I’m glad to say. However, his temper for the remainder of the day was indeed quite foul.

Human Slippers For Bunnies

…not made from real humans

 

365 DAYS, 365 POSTS #21

 

The Doclopedia # 1,229

The Potawango Island Bestiary, Part Two: Pole Dancing Lemurs

 

From the notebook of Dr. Thaddeus Silkmelon:

 

I am constantly amazed by this island. The animal and plant life are a constant source of wonder. However, even the very land itself is an incredible puzzlement. I speak, of course, of the size of Potawango Island.

The earliest known mention of the island comes from the log of a fishing boat blown off course from the southern Philippines in 1120 AD. If one sifts through the rather hyperbolic text, one finds that they estimated the island, which the captain swore had never been there before, to be 40 miles long and 20 miles across. Of course, their measurements are suspect due to all the running in panic that they did.

The next mention of the islands size comes from 1356, when the Chinese explorer Ying Ko sailed around it and pronounced it 50 miles across and almost completely circular. This, however, does not match up with any other description of the island. I will point out here that he also encountered the island almost 600 miles northeast of where the Filipinos found it. Had Ying Ko not written descriptions of both the Screaming Hyraxes and the Man-Eating Oysters, I would have discounted his report out of hand.

In 1688, the “Dona Maria”, a Spanish merchantman, was caught in a typhoon and blown far into the Pacific. After 4 days of sailing west, they came to Potawango Island and spent several days here while sailing around it. Their very accurate maps depict an island 130 miles long and anywhere from 40 to 90 miles across. They describe the interior, or rather what they could see from various beaches, as ranging from tall snow capped mountains to steaming jungles to vast swamps.

Finally, we come to the ill fated expedition of Grackle and Thubbley in 1853. A sad bit of history, that. Captain Grackle and Professor Thubbley set off with two ships and an expedition crew of 60 sailors. Two years later, Professor Thubbley and 8 sailors were rescued from a large raft just off the coast of central Chile. All of them were hopelessly insane and swore that they had been gone for over 10 years. Thubbley was in possession of excellent maps which showed an island 35 miles long by 12 miles wide. Despite having longitudes and latitudes. The ensuing rescue mission for the remaining members of the party found no island.

I recount all of the above to explain that we are now camped some 100 miles inland from the coast and north of the highlands we had visited previously, a distance that we should not have been able to travel given our charting of the island as we initially sailed around it. Indeed, we should be about 45 miles out to sea, not gazing north at high mountains that remind me of the Sierra Nevada range of California.

But enough of that, I am writing today of a new species of lemur that we encountered yesterday. These lemurs were slightly larger than the Ringtailed Lemur of Madagascar and had no rings on the tail. The creatures are colored a warm reddish brown except on their faces and abdomens, where they are a cream color. The eyes of the females are blue, while the male’s eyes are brown. In almost all ways, these lemurs behave like most other forest dwelling lemurs. I say “almost” because they have a mating ritual unlike anything I have ever seen before.

To describe it, I as you to imagine an area where several bamboo plants grow about 4 feet from one another. This species of bamboo is about the thickness of a broomstick and grows 7 to 9 feet tall. In the early afternoon, many male lemurs gather around this area to watch female lemurs dance about the poles and do complex and frankly erotic movements on them. I must say that several of us were a bit scandalized, although Miss Abigail seemed to watch with great intent, nodding every so often and taking some notes in her journal.

As the dancing progresses, the male lemurs become more and more aroused until, in a full state of erection, those possessed of the greatest, umm, equippage, grab a female and carry her off for an hour or more of very loud mating. Once all those females are taken, new ones arrive. This continues until nobody is left dancing or watching.

As I said, a quite singular event that we have dubbed “pole dancing”.