Eaglesford Gazette

Elston Crantz here and man oh man, do I have news to report.

Well gentle readers, it's finally happened. Some claphappy group of adventurers has finally found an active mine in Eaglesford territory. Of course when we say "active" we don't mean they struck gold. Or gems. Or even silver. We mean they found a mine full of goblins, kobolds, and who knows what else. Let's all just hope that they can put down whatever they stir up, right?

Of course the group, who doesn't have a name yet, locating the mine isn't the issue. It was when they returned to town that the trouble started. They arrived back in town flush with cash, and full of spit and vinegar. Like many adventurers before them, they headed straight to Madame Beecho's House of Negotiable Affection. (See ya again on Starday Lisa.) So, coin in hand, full of spit and vinegar, and rumor has it, drunker than a party of Dwarves on an Underground Holiday they proceeded to...do some things that were...well, I won't say evil, but certainly deranged.

Well, reliable witnesses, some of whom were almost sober at the time of this report, say they were under the influence of something stronger and weirder than our own fabled Glass Hammer. They talked to the Gods, spoke with demons, and after doing unspeakable things with the stuffed moose head in the lobby, apparently decided to start their own church. And Madame Beecho had to up the ladies take to 75% we're told by a reliable source for the next week and a half.

But seriously, a church? Here?

They say money changes everyone, and I for one have never believed it. But, maybe I've been wrong all these years. It seems that the group in question held a "festival" and most of the town came to sample their wares. Though many of you will deny it, lot's of you were there. Some of you are still not tending to your duties due to "illness" but those of us on the sidelines can speak to what your illness is. After all, it took six good men to get Abner Toothbreaker and his wife of twenty winters down off the roof of the townhall, and another two to load them in a wagon and get them home.

Well gentle readers... I can't write here on the actions of the debauchery. I can only discuss the results. So far there have been sixteen breakups, three marriages, and fifteen reports of new pregnancies. And as far as I know, we still don't know what happened to the chicken. We can only report that it's still walking in a circle and saying, "Oink." every fifteen seconds. *Shudder.*

We'll see if they follow through, or if the earth, like a bad momma hog, will gobble up these children of adventure. Who knows what the future holds? For some, it seems rife with promises of sex, money, and adventure.

Until next time gentle readers. Until next time.