Serenity, Silence, Peace.

These are the words which describe Castle Catalano this time of year.
The snow has already fallen, blanketing the ground with a white cover of softness, quieting the woods and all who inhabit them.

On this evening the Gumba and his Bard make ready to travel to the Mans Fields Of Dreams, as they scurry about the great beasts wish to go out and play. The Gumba dons his winter skins and him and the great beasts enter the quite of the woods.

The sounds of footfalls of the great beasts are all that are heard echoing in the great whiteness.

A movement, high in the branches, the great beasts stop and stare, the Gumba looks, it is the Great Owl, returned once again to spread wisdom and happiness to the Gumba and his Bard.

In a flash, he spreads his wings and silenlty floats into the woods.

Like the passing of time, silent but present. Movement without effort.
Another year passes, trials passed, friends made, feasts aplenty.

To another Eve's Anew.

Huzzah.


So sayeth the Great White Sage of the Northron Region.

Misty, Magical, Maudlin Day.
Tis the winter solstice,the shortest day of the year. The time of season that marks the begining of longer days. The hope of new light, the coming of spring and the rebirth of the mother earth.

The Great Gumba sat and watched the great beasts run and frolic in the new fallen snow. Such a wondurous sight, the guardians of Castle Catalano, acting like carefree children, sticking their dark faces deep into the snow and reapearing all white and frosty.

The Solstice is upon us, he thought, a time for new beginings.
The council of twelve have granted the Great Gumba his respit, all that was and had beleagered the Gumba was at last gone.
Racing Ma and the White Haired Hermit are remebered fondly. Friends come forth and celebrate. The final chapter from the Mans Fields of Dreams was at last closed.

The great Owl has appeared to the Gumba yet again, to tell of great fortune and happiness that awaits the Gumba and his Bard. A new year awaits.
A great weight has been lifted from the Gumbas shoulders.

Solstice, a time of light, time to burn the Yule, time for the evergreens and the mighty oak, holly and ivy and all the symbols of light and warmth.

A time of family, friends and hope. What a wondurous time of year.

The Druids lit a large fire, fueled by the Yule log, covered in evergreen boughs and wine. They danced and chanted. They climbed tall oak trees and cut mistletoe with a golden knife, being careful not to drop the branch to the ground. The berries, once squeezed, resemble that of the fruit of life, reveared by the Romans for centuries as a great aphrodisiac, when mixed properly with other herbs.

Acorns creating the sacred circle around the yule fire, keeping the evil spirits at bay.

The Gumba looked forward to the lighting of the Yule, for it brought him happiness.
The season of giving, of love and hope.

To all who celebrate this season, be you Druid, Christian, Jewish, Wiccan, Muslim, Orthadox, Celtic, Pagan or Athiest, Remember the Yule, for it's light shines like a beacon for all who will look to it for a path. It cares not whom you worship, it cares that you can see your path clearly and safely.

Raise a flaggon, toast the season, your family and friends.

Huzzah!

So Sayeth the Great White Sage of the Northron Regions.

Our Merry Band headed out from the Great Wells of the Works of Water towards the place of boat landings, for what the Gumba thought was a quiet evening of dining with friends.

When our troop arrived the only tables were upstairs, this puzzled the Gumba, but none the less he took point and rambled up the stairs.
The top of the stairs were dark, why thought the Gumba, would they send us to a dark part to eat, could the food be that bad, that they did not want you to see it?

All at once many torches were lit and the room erupted in a thunderous HUZZAH, mortal and immortal alike stood and welcomed the Gumba to his surprise party.
The Bard had outdone herself, people had traveled far and wide to the Great Northron region to help the Gumba celebrate, and the surprise was kept until the final moment.

Now this is a feat unto itself, for the Gumba sees and hears all in the Northron Region, not one lessor hoarde had slipped, no mortal gave it away, not even the Immortals, who often gossip, gave it away.

The Great hall was filled to capacity, along one whole wall stood the feasting tables, food, food, and more food. Feasting is good!!!

The Bar Wench saunterd up to the Great Gumba, and with bussoms heaving, asked the Great Gumba what he would like to drink, he replied, a Tea from the Cape of Fishes.

This is where the rest of the evening gets fuzzy, the Gumba knows he feasted and he danced, yes the Gumba danced and gyrated with the Bard and the Otter Queen and any other young lass who would dance with him. The Gumba remembers opening gifts.

The Red Prince and Otter Queen made a magical copy of the original Red Book and presented it with much fanfare to the Great Gumba, all the tales from the Mans Field of Dreams were their, all the battles, all the trials, Floyd the Destroyer, Homer with blazen red hair, arms like tree trunks, not a man like you or I, The pillow biters, Mage Jim, The feasts of Antioch, the Faires of King Richard, Lord Simone, The Horrible Horang of Horror, and so much more. The Red Book was now in the Great Northron Region and in the Mans Field of Dreams, twas a glorious thing.

The Lovely Kerry the Bard, presented her mate with a magical wrist chain made of the finest Elvin Gold, a gift fit for an Immortal. The Gumba had traded his original wrist chain of elvin gold to the ferryman, payment for Racing ma's safe passage to the netherworld. This was a glorious gift and meant much to the Gumba.

To all who came and celebrated, to all who helped Kerry the Bard, to all who just call the gumba friend.

Thank You.

Huzzah to Kerry the Bard. Long may she live and prosper.

So sayeth the Great White Sage of the Northron Region

Our Merry band set forth to the Wells of the Works of Water to imbibe in a little grog.

The Gumba, his Bard, the Red Prince, Otter Queen, Star of David and his Consort, Ground Chuck and Dark Laurie all arrived at the Wells around 7pm.
Viking Plunder for all, shouted the Gumba and the wenches began pouring.

Deep from the underground ice caves came the libation called Viking Plunder, an ale worthy of it’s name, made by the king of brew masters, Lord Richlo.
A swarthy man, short in stature, large in generosity and knowledge, one who calls the Gumba friend. Lord Richlo is often heard walking around his brew cave, shaking his head, mumbling something about the old skinflint, that runs the brewery and his fiery assistant, saying: SOUR, SOUR, why is she so SOUR!!!!!

Viking Plunder, aptly named, it turns meek men into warriors, and warriors into Vikings.

Shortly after the troop of merrymakers arrived, a hush came over the crowd and from a distance could be heard the pipes.
A mournful wail, on a September eve, it drew closer, the Bard had outdone herself, she had the Royal Pipers from the Bay of the Rocky Coast march up to and into the Wells of the Works of Water, to regale her husband, the Mighty Gumba with the sounds of the pipes.
Tis a sound the Gumba relishes, for Racing Ma was of Scottish decent.

The Pipes are Eternal; they stir the soul, remake men, so to speak.
Heard on battlefields for eons, the pipes can make mortals act like Immortals, they make fear erode, nothing but the will to win remains.

The Pipers played the Gumbas favorite, all was quite, a single tear rolled down the cheek of the Gumba, not of sadness, but of joy, all was well.

The pipers paid their respects and off they went, leaving our merry band to themselves.
The Bard spoke up: Tis time for Feasting, let us go to the place of boat landings, they serve tasty red crunch things. Huzzah, replied the crowd.

Off went our merry band of revelers to the place of boat landings, where part three takes place.

Long live the Great Gumba.

So Sayeth the Great White Sage of the Northron Region.