The desert of Great Dunlock Desert is only partly explored.

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 )                                                                         (
(                             NewOrigins Events                             )
 )                             August, Year 1                              (
(                                                                           )
 )       A few refugees have heard about the battle between enemies        (
(         happened in the jungles of Autarkotuspolisus Woods where          )
 )      1combatant was killed. The defenders were furious and put all      (
(     attackers to the sword. This battle will be known as Siege of the     )
 )                           Fort Building [2].                            (
(                                                                           )
 )                         .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                         (
(                                                                           )
 )    Several merchants are worried about the town of Hymnoarenos that     (
(     lies in the Antanoimos Sands desert, where a partisans decimated      )
 )                                 guards.                                 (
(                                                                           )
 )                         .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                         (
(                                                                           )
 )     Dozen bards have heard about the town of Baraznuz that lies in      (
(       the Lurgbuz Rocks mountains, where an opposition slew guards.       )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(     Some bards are whispering about the town of Stratoakos that lies      )
 )     in the Tritotuspolisus Plains plains, where an opposition slew      (
(                                  guards.                                  )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(     Many bards are whispering about the town of Stanlock that lies in     )
 )      the Kanesti Sands desert, where a partisans put to the sword       (
(                                  guards.                                  )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(       Many pilgrims are discussing about hunters who have destroyed       )
 )      Sandlings (581) near ocean of Great Methan River. Freeing the      (
(               desert of Great Ugdur Desert from their fear.               )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(      In the desert of Great Dunlock Desert, near ocean of Birmingvil      )
 )        Lake, Sphinx (1926) who continue to cause terror to local        (
(                               inhabitants.                                )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(       In the desert of Great Durbuz Desert, near jungles of Evitas        )
 )      Jungle, Evil Warriors (1436) who continue to cause horror to       (
(                            local inhabitants.                             )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(     In the desert of Great Ugdur Desert, near ocean of Lochael River,     )
 )          Crocodiles (106) who continue to cause dread to local          (
(                               inhabitants.                                )
 )                                                                         (
(                          .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.                          )
 )                                                                         (
(        In the desert of Great Autarkaros Desert, near mountains of        )
 )    Barakguzun Peak, Sandlings (170) who continue to cause anxiety to    (
(                            local inhabitants.                             )
 )                                                                         (
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    `-._.-' (___ _) `-._.-' `-._.-' )     ( `-._.-' `-._.-' (__ _ ) `-._.-'
            ( _ __)                (_     _)                (_ ___)
            (__  _)                 `-._.-'                 (___ _)
            `-._.-'                                         `-._.-'

Empty World.

Those anacondas seem to enjoy scout meals. Who knew ?

Some scouts, apparently ashamed of their roots, are headed our way. Should we greet them with a handshake, or a poke in the eye.

Englefart forgot the words! Silly Englefart. But now he had a friend to help him with the words, so they could remember them together.

“It seems locals like our scouts, for lunch!”
“And what of our other concerns?”
“Well, study is progressing and our farmer are producing food.”

I hope Times will tell people about our glorious victory!

More people, more cities, interesting times ahead

Last month we have met an interesting "trader". He was a large tattooed gnoll, bald and menacing, wearing a leather jacket with a sign that either meant "Orcs, who hunt" or "Those who hunt orcs". Daring rip-heads.
Overjoyed at the new contact, I sent him a letter, signing it "Holden" at bottom.
He replied that he is a humble trader trying to escape from an uncertain desert. And he didn't reply a second time.
I have a feeling that something really scared him, but it was not clear what exactly. I will sort this out.

Just our luck, a group of our goblins have come across a Sphinx. That is not good news.

The demon was right, this place is perfect. 

its all good

MORE POWER!!! FIRE POWER!!!

These gnomes don't look too smart.
If only they could study faster.

I'm in a rush today. An excellent opportunity for profit is on the horizon and should not be wasted.

Desert again, but inhabited this time. The local faction seems late though. May be a late start?

Now the faction of Vikings set their sights to conquering city. The current guards were uncooperative bunch, but well trained. So vikings started recruiting and sword smithing months. Estimate time for training men and equipping would be around six months, but the conquer would be worth the wait.

The Prime Exarch mulls over a missive he has received.   "Well, that will be interesting" he thinks.

No angel ever descended from the heavens with as much sound and fury as do we.

==============================
    GRAMMAR RINGI DECLARED
==============================

Our Eldest's Column
--------------------

Every month the little folk gather all the wisdom, stories, gossip and lies they wish to share with their neighbors, then one little one is selected by lot to carry the packet to the Times.  Last month, our packet included a letter disrespectfully criticizing the grammar of one Times' article.  (The author of that letter actually wrote "in Goblin, we use commas".  Can you imagine addressing an editor in such a disrespectful tone?  This is not, or at least should not be, the little folk way.)  To our shame, the chief editor showed herself to be the littler woman, for she most graciously paid us for our submissions, but declined to publish them because "some of the material included was not up to the formatting standards we seek to uphold in the Times".  She said that personally she was a stickler for proper punctuation placement, so she was pleased we had shared with her our discovery of a comma shortage in the Goblin language edition of the Times.  She explained that the article with the missing comma had been originally written by a non-goblin reporter, then translated from the original for the Goblin language edition.  She said the Times was, since the start of this year, having difficulty hiring goblin translators because of an unprecedented surge in demand for goblin labor.  The editor promised to chastise the offending translator, and generously offered to publish our packet of submissions to the Times, including even our letter about commas in the Times, as soon as we correct the grammar errors in our own submissions.  To our horror, she proceeded to draw in the margin of one of our submissions, an elegant cinnabar editorial manicule pointing to a non-standard number of quotation marks.  Her effortless strokes put our best calligraphers to shame.  We are humbled.  We departed abashed, with chagrin and contrition, and burned our impudent letter about commas in the Times.  We shall never again accuse the Times' chief editor of ignorance or of any lack of artistic sophistication.  The manicule she drew was beyond the abilities of our best calligraphers.  Apparently some in our new home already know the arts that we hoped to teach here, and know them better than we know them ourselves.  (Where did she get that lovely red ink?  And where did she learn to draw like that?)

We are not yet done examining our combination of criticizing others' punctuation while ourselves making similar mistakes.  While in Rome, we must do as the Romans do.  It appears that our neighbors in this new world consider asking others to behave in some way, and then not behaving in that same way themselves to be a _very_ serious crime, perhaps even an offense against the gods as well as an offense against the state.  We have heard rumors that a "davisd" recently asked others to wear revealing livery, then discovered many of his own people wearing very modest clothing.  If our translators have correctly interpreted the rumors that make their way across the world to our ears, davisd consulted many different local factions, asking the appropriate response to such an offense.  By unanimous agreement, including even the agreement of davisd, all those of davisd's people whose clothing left anything to the imagination last month have performed "give 0 all entrails".  

If all that is rumored has in fact been given, then this month the Fendahli soothsayers will have an abundance of reading material.  

Little folk explorers eagerly anticipate ogling the new, skimpier summer attire in their travels.

In our new home, little folk that criticize others' grammar of must take great care with their own, so we are not yet done atoning for our own errors.  Our Eldest has decreed (well, politely suggested, we are the little folk, after all) that the little folk should this month perform the kinder, gentler, more inclusive little folk variant of the Fendahli ritual of penitence.  This month, Our Eldest politely requests all the little folk to put aside their usual occupations and join him in a great grammar ringi.  All little folk, from the least little to the littlest, are invited to spend this month discussing grammar from dawn to dusk (perhaps continuing after dusk if the weather is good and the wine has not run out).  For the whole month, Our Eldest will be drinking penitence tea, which contains only 6 lumps of sugar, not 7, and eating his cucumber sandwiches with the crusts still attached.  Those local chapters of little folk that unanimously agree these sacrifices would be good for their own spiritual development are encouraged to emulate his penitence.  At the end of the month, on those grammatical issues where the gods have blessed us with consensus across all regions, the little folk will adopt a new standard Goblin grammar.  At state expense, Our Eldest shall fund with lifetime stipends and petty seigneurial privileges, a new class of government officials, to be named in honor of this month of penitence.  The sole task of these new officials shall be to check all little folk speech and writing for deviations from standard Goblin grammar, and to discipline to new standard Goblin any attempted dialect variations.


Music Column
------------

We wish the Times published translation credits with their articles.  Or even better, did not translate their articles at all.  Can we somehow request an edition of the Times published in a language other than Goblin?  The little folk have (so far, anyway) almost no native speakers of most non-Goblin languages, and none with linguistics training.  Even so, our own bad translations from the original can hardly be worse than the translations provided by the Times.

Our linguists suspect Gyperboreya's July song, or poem, or mystic almost poetic prose, was not originally written in Goblin.  Those of you who just want advice about how to play your goblin whistles may be wondering how the linguists took over the music column this month.  We shared our column with the spooks because the spooky linguists claim that if the Times were to publish the original text of the Gyperboreyan poem, we might discover the original script included performance notations, perhaps cryptic marks above each syllable that the Times' translators discarded because those translators lacked sufficient knowledge of Goblin musical notation to translate these marks into Standard Goblin.

The Little Folk Intelligence Bureau is _very_ interested in any information supporting or disproving their suspicion that the Gyperboreyan poem is a song.  The location of Gyperborea is unknown to the little folk, but if our Intelligence Bureau can establish that this song is written to be accompanied by a Domra (or similar instrument), then our spooks could rule out Boola Boo Ball as a possible home of the Gyperboreans.

If you have information about whether last months article from Gyperborea describes a song, especially information about whether this song is sometimes accompanied by a Domra, Balalaika, Gusli, or similar instrument, please contact Aenbecan, Chief of Little Folk Musical Intelligence in Hymnoaros.  If you don't know where Hymnoaros is, travel to the Lanktos "sea", which is really just a very large lake, then circle the shore until you come to a peninsula jutting south into the lake.  Hymnoaros lies just a bit north of the southernmost point of the peninsula, you can reach it in less than a month of travel, and if the weather is good (or if you ask the locals) you can see it from the southernmost shore.  This is where the Little Folk Musical Intelligence Agency (LFMIA) and many other secret little folk government agencies are housed.  


Natural Philosophy Column
--------------------------

At the northeast corner of the great Antanoatos Desert, (which is also the northeast corner of the Antanoimos sands), the Zolain river flows off the edge of the world, then, with surprising noise and spray, forever down into darkness.  The noise and spray is a mystery; we expected the water to flow quietly into that good night.  Surely in the nothingness beyond the edge of the world there can be nothing the water can strike to make sound.  Does the noise and spray hint at something beneath our world, perhaps the rumored dungeon?  Our explorers, in a display of inappropriate bravery for little folk, have tried to follow the river past this world's edge, but the world seems bent here; our way is blocked. We are not "forbidden entry" by any guard we can see, but by some fundamental nature of the universe; our explorers report they simply "Can't move in that direction".  The river seems able to move in that direction.  Perhaps the river is friendly with the guard.  Our shaman advises we seek the little snake to guide us north.  The less religiously inclined of our explorers wonder whether somehow getting into the river and accompanying it in its trip over the edge will be just as effective.  All we need is something that floats to build our arc.  Sadly, there are no trees in this desert, and all our attempts to float sand have failed.  Our natural philosopher favors dispatch of swift couriers to the volcanoes, from whence the bubbly stone that floats might be fetched.  Surely blocks of bubbly stone can be assembled into a raft we can pilot over the waterfall.


Parenting Column
-----------------

Saying evening prayers is an important part of children's moral development (see the religion section).
Encouraging your child to add some additional words of their own is one way you can encourage your child's development of the verbal creativity goblins are blessed with.  If after the required, word for word propaganda part of the prayer, you encourage your child to add something in her own words, like "And bless my teddy bear Grizzle who has the sniffles", then your child gets practice inventing thoughts of her own.  Depending on her personality and talents, she may grow up to serve Our Eldest by composing official, required prayers and propaganda, or she may grow up to write revolutionary newspaper articles like this one.  Early development of creativity will put your child one step ahead on the mastery of the painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain skills that make goblin culture more refined than the primitive culture of big folk, and so will help her avoid the manual labor skills better suited to big folk muscles (and brains).


Porcus Column
--------------

Warning!  Unfamiliar languages may cause damage to eyes and brains.  Little Folk translators report that High Orcish hurts their eyes and brains, and they can only work with it in brief stints between rests.

This is not High Orcish, this is just Porcus (in some lands called "Sus").  But if you find Porcus hurts your eyes, please (please) ignore this column this month.  It really isn't interesting enough for you to translate (we promise).  And if our purpose is accomplished, we hope next month to publish an easy reading translation of this month's column into Standard Goblin.

Ipheredcai otai evadeai ethai editor'sai ingpryai eyesai.

Icetwai ethai Imestai's iefchai editorai eclinedai otai ublishpai ourai articlesai "ecausebai eythai areai otnai upai otai ethai Imestai's ighai andardsstai".  Orsoothfai, ewai offendedai irstfai, iticizingcrai unctuationpai inai ethai Imestai.  Erilyvai, eshai idai indfai aai unctuationpai errorai inai ourai ownai Imestai ubmissionsai.  Airfai isai erhai irstfai ubsnai.  Utbai ommitingcai ourai econdsai onthmai'sai olumnscai otai ethai oundrai eceptaclerai eservedrai orfai argumentsai osai olyhai eythai aymai uelfai ethai Imestai's iresfai ofai etypai eformationrai eemsai excessiveai.  Atwhai ortsai ofai apologyai oesdai eshai emandai?  Ewai iedtrai otai atoneai orfai ourai isrespectfuldai iticismcrai ofai ethai Imestai articleai byai avinghai aai onthmai onglai ationwidenai itualrai ofai enitancepai.  Ifai ourai onthmai onglai ationwidenai itualrai ofai enitancepai  isn'tai enoughai otai atisfysai erhai, atwhai illwai ebai?  Ewai areai ittlelai olkfai, osai ewai ustmai eepkai aai amefacedshai emeanordai inai ublicpai, utbai inai ivateprai, omesai ofai usai areai eamingstai.  Omesai ittlelai olkfai eportersrai avehai askedai Ourai Eldest'sai overnmentgai orfai elphai.  Ourai Eldestai eardhai eirthai eaplai, andai etsai ethai ullfai achinerymai ofai ethai ittlelai olkfai atestai otai omehowsai ompellingcai ethai Imestai editorsai otai ublishpai ourai orkwai.  Atai ethai ittlelai olkfai'sai ancientai, adequatelyai undedfai utbai ustydai andai isusedai "oblingai intelligenceai agencyai", omesai oldai iesspai ooktai imetai outai omfrai eatingcrai osswordcrai uzzlespai otai applyai eirthai ofessionalprai illsskai otai eterminingdai, atwhai, eallyrai, ethai Imestai editorai intendsai otai ublishpai omfrai ourai ubmissionsai.


Propaganda Column
------------------

Penitence and atonement have not been goblin traditions, or at least not little folk traditions.  Some of us were taught in school that these are stupid, self destructive practices of primitive races with primitive brains.  So some of us will be tempted block consensus on, or at least ignore, Our Eldest's suggestion for the month.  And so miss an opportunity for _fun_.  I encourage those of you tempted that way to at least try participating in the ringi.  Grammar was always the most fun school subject for many of us.  If you are one of the adult Goblins who misses all the grammar exercises from school, consider that following Our Eldest's suggestion will let you enjoy a month off from boring travel, farming, mining, and alms collecting, and join in a fascinating discussion.  For the few of us who as children didn't eagerly wait each day for grammar period to begin, well, you could pretend to participate in the ringi, nodding soberly while passing risque notes to your friends, then enthusiastically participate in the parties after sundown.  Who wouldn't want a chance to escape the day job and get paid the state's dole for a month?  The little folk can make anything _fun_, even penitence and atonement.


Puzzle Column
--------------

Which of these is elderly, timid, feeble, and nervously shilly shallying?

A) "Your majesty, we are late."  --Windmasters
B) "Running late as it is."   --Romans
C) "Oh dear, oh dear, I shall be too late."   --Dead Rabbit

Read the puzzle section next month for the answer.  Or mail your answer before next month to Discordus Generalus, Puzzle Master, for a chance to win fabulous prizes, fame, the envy of other factions and a mention in this fine newspaper.


Religion Column
----------------

If while exploring you find you "Can't move that direction", it means travel is blocked not by some mortal guard, but by a god.  The home of the gods lies in the direction you attempted to travel, and it is not yet your time to cross that boundary.  If you must go that way today and not tomorrow (perhaps you must enter the dungeon to water your flowers), then commune with the little snake.  The little snake is friendly with the god, and regularly escorts travelers past the god's guards.

Little goblin children's evening prayer:
    Bless Good Mr. Hagen and the Thane's Ring spirits that aid him.
    May his campaign to seek out and bind evil bring to all the peace inside the ring of his armies.


Obituary Column
---------------

Junius, explorer and diplomat, died last month in freak weather in the Antanoatos Wastes, while making his way back up the Hymnoaros peninsula that juts into the Lanktos Sea.  In his life Junius established contact with other, larger non-goblin inhabitants of this world, invited the big ones to share with us the little delights of goblin culture, and invited them to share with us the big ideas from their own fat headed culture.  Although Junius did not live long enough to hear their reply to his invitation, his heirs, friends, and acquaintances will still, in his memory and in his honor, offer that same invitation to the big folk who last spoke to brave Junius.  We wish we could report that Junius died to save his new friends from some evil threat, but as best as our forensic experts can determine from the charred remains, Junius was struck by lightning.  So it appears to have been a death by natural causes.

As time passes, this new world reminds us of Lorenai, our old home.  It is, however, far more dangerous. 
 Fearsome monsters lurking.  Not to mention the other dangerous folk we passed on our journey through the magical transport nexus.  Some of the other travelers seemed kindly though - perhaps we will unite against the threats of this world.

Finally more than just sand. Green pastures we can settle that one can sit and rest before returning to the unforgiving hell of the desert. Let us see if the neighbours are as friendly as the land.

As the Ambassador recovered from the snub of not being invited to a certain funeral, he looked to the reports sent in by the scouts. Good news - two new factions spotted! Bad news - they were both next to the village just discovered, the only easily conquerable settlement within easy reach.

the sky will be covered with specks of stars and the branches will swing elastically, I will hear you from a thousand miles away, we are an echo, we are an echo, we are a long echo of each other

What is it! Just calm one down, the other two on the borders strive to appropriate my lands for themselves! I can't fight with everyone! i will negotiate...

Strange ironman stop all travelers. Something needs to be done about this.

Identification by cultural code is brilliant! Ghyperboreans - respect!

Merewulf ask the Scout. What's going on in the south-east?

Many project are delayed, and the locals are getting anxious. Utuk'ku knows better, as this is the way of the ice. Patience and persistance can overcome any obstacle.

Where do guards get their swords from?

Kongs seem to be very territorial and don't want orcs wandering their jungle. We will leave them be for now. Search for the City near our village is still ongoing.

Torwin stood at the cemetery gates. Death was common back between the worlds. But it was never reversible. He wondered if it was same in this World. Magic flown through his hands and he realized that death wasn't beatable here either.

Visiting Dirty Lady Inn maybe wasn't a good idea.

Sometimes you meet friends, sometimes enemies. You are glad that you have met reasonable equals.
But monsters - you are not welcome.
But they are satisfied with a delicious, nutritious dessert.

Bastards... Kenny, we remember you!

New world's spring blossoms
Hope blooming in a child's eyes
Then, death and taxes.

So we found a gate and factions in the middle of nowhere!  Mostly friends it seems…

Peace at all costs!

Orcs? Farming? Now I've seen everything....

We are growing strong and helping friends.

One thing about orphans: they are always in good supply.  It seems there is a street urchin on every corner (and indeed there is), and so Peter finds recruiting easy even though the money is pretty slim.  But, marks are easy to come by as well, so Peter remains hopeful while keeping a watchful eye on the local undead population which seems to find orphans a delectable treat.

they say Holden blocked all the shafts to the underworld...

The dungeon lies just below your feet, but all surface entrances have been closed.  To enter the dungeon, rapel over an edge of the world, or enter a volcano and move IN.

Holden's Witness Sect will accept dragon eggs as a gift for rituals.

No matter how much you feed Holden, he still looks into the forest

Borg knows where Holden is...

Merwulf ask the Scout. What's going on in the south east?