January 25, 2004
Alerted by our crystal balls to the scenes of devastation in Trellor, the Mudslinger dispatched intrepid cub reporter Scoop D'Icecream to give an eye-witness report from the front lines.
Hello to all the Mudslinger readers! This is Scoop D'Icecream reporting from the scenes of devastation at the City of Trellor. Not only must humanity struggle against the creatures of the wildnerness to survive in Medievia, but a different enemy has now struck this once-proud city.
Disease has run rampant through the streets of Trellor. Vacant-eyed citizens struggle against the illness that ravages their bodies. The priests of the temple of Trell struggle night and day to turn the tide, but the infection claims more victims every hour.
I arrived here on one of the many wagons that came to bring aid and comfort to the beleaguered Trellorians. Heroes and adventurers from all over Medievia have banded together to help Trellor in its time of need.
This? Oh, it's one of those new dictation imps. Pretty neat, eh? Of course I haven't read the manual. I know what I'm doing. Anyway, what time do the taverns open? We could get a quick round or two in before we try and get some interviews. Heads up for those bodies, eh? Never know what you'll stand in.
Of course it looks as if it's still taking notes. It's a dictation imp, isn't it? The newer breeds always look like that. Busy little fellows. It's one tap on the head to stop it. Or is it two-
From far and wide, the heroes came, each one bringing a wagon full of desperately-needed supplies. I managed to get the attention of one such valiant rescuer as he stood in the open area just outside the walls.
"Sir? Scoop D'Icecream from the Medievia Mudslinger. Could I have a moment of your time?"
"Sir, if you could just answer a few questions? Could you tell our readers just what motivated you to travel through hordes of trolls and bandits, not to mention the endless traverses of wilderness?"
"Gold, I reckon."
"Just gold, sir? What with all these desperately ill people in Trellor? Didn't that tear at your heart?"
"Well, I like killing kobolds, I guess. Got me three maps from this trip, so I'm going back for more stuff."
"I see. So what supplies are short in Trellor? What do the people need? What should other people bring?"
"Anything, really. They'll buy anything at any price when they're desperate, eh? Know what I'm saying?"
"Er, so just what did you bring this time, sir?"
"Brought them some good lumber. Prime gear."
"What good is lumber to a plague-stricken city?"
"Need loads of coffins. Heads up - that's my dragon."
"Well, if you will stand where my dragon wanted to land..."
"This is Scoop D'Icecream, limping towards adventurers in search of a healing spell, Trellor. We'll be right back after this short break.
New from the Mage's Quarter - Magenetically Improved Imps! Do you need a special-purpose imp? Look no further, for we have recently developed many new varieties.
Our new line of dictation imps, as used by all the staff of the Mudslinger, are now capable of writing three hundred words per minute (twenty words per minute if you need legibility).
Need a bottle of firebreather in a hurry? Get one of our errand imps to bring one for you. For an additional fee, we will train it to not drink your liquor on the way back.
Ask to see our full catalogue!
"This is Scoop D'Icecream, and I've managed to find a group of adventurers who haven't called for dragons. Folks, can you tell me what you brought to help the victims of this awful plague in Trellor?"
"I brought some gems."
"Gems? What did you bring gems for?"
"Well, I reckon they needed cheering up."
"Oh. Anyone else? You - the mage in the sparkly robe."
"Can I just say 'hi' to my bloodline mother?"
"You just did. What did you bring, sir?"
"Me? Oh, I brought books. Some of them may have information on how to combat disease in them."
"That's very thoughtful of you, sir. May I see one? Thank you. Ah - this appears to be a 'connect the dots' book."
"Well, I didn't pay much for them at Karlisna, but at least the ill people have something to do on their deathbeds."
"Very ... generous of you, sir. Now, the lady cleric on the right, what did you bring?"
"You're looking a bit peaky, did you know that?"
"Me? Just a bad tankard of ale, I assure you. I took the travel warnings and quaffed a green potion before coming here, so I'm immune."
"You *do* look a bit off-color. Your hands are trembling. Your eyes look a bit bloodshot. Hey, guys - would you say that his complexion is 'sallow' or 'pallid'?"
"Can you tap my imp twice, please?"
This is Scoop D'Icecream reporting from a bed in Medievia Health Services, the City of Medievia. The clerics have allowed me time to make one last observation.
Is human misery really so easily fobbed off with baubles? Is life so cheap? Should we take advantage of another's misfortune to raise funds? Is it moral to make a profit out of another's misery?
This is Scoop D'Icecream, signing off from his sickbed in the Medievia Health Services.
Note from the editor - Scoop's funeral will be held in three days time, and his resurrection at his favorite alter will take place ten minutes after that. We ask that only his family bring flowers, and anyone interested in making a donation should send it to the Thirsty Editors Benevolent Fund. Thank you!
Copyright (c) 1992-2015 Medievia.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved
Mudslinger is a trademark (Tm) of Medievia.com, Inc.
No portion of the MudSlinger may be reproduced without the express written consent of Medievia.com, Inc.