| Come dance with the Wanderers... |
Circulation: 193,800,035 |
Issue: 714 | 8th day of Sleeping, Y18 |
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Comics
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Headlines "The Bennett Files: The Case of the Faerie Ring" by amarettoball It was a chilly day in Altador, which was why Strai was happy to be working inside for once. As a Maraquan Gelert, he was naturally inclined to be outside, or at least around a body of water. Today, though, he was pretty certain that if he had stayed outside for more than a few hours without an enchantment, he would have shriveled up from the dry air and shrunken into a nice little Brucicle.
His partner, Bennett, was lamenting the wasted opportunity to bear the weather and see what mishaps Strai would get himself into. The woodland Uni meant Strai no harm, but his eccentric and curious nature often led him to test the most absurd theories while giving little regard to the consequences. The two of them worked out of a quaint detective office adjacent to their home, and while many requested their services, Bennett only accepted cases that he didn't consider "mundane."
Other Stories
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Carrot Cake "Ugh, Emmy, I'm not sure if I can pull this off..." The Maraquan Carma doesn't say anything. It's an hour until dawn in the camp of the Ixi Raiders of Cogham, and Mer is about to lose his mind. That is, if he hasn't completely lost it already.
by theschizophrenicpunk |
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101 Reasons NOT To Annoy Dr. Sloth Even if my neck were on the line (which thankfully it isn’t), I’d hope you would be sensible enough not to do anything on that list. But just in case my pleas are not enough, here are some further reasons not to annoy Dr. Sloth…
by debbie1188 |
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Bottled Faeries Inc.: Part Two I know that people pay a lot of money for a neohome with a nice, ocean view. To me, it doesn’t seem worth it. After twenty-four hours at sea in an enchanted glass bottle, I was pretty sure I had gotten the gist of the ocean; it was just a giant mass of green, choppy, salty water sprinkled with the occasional fish or piece of trash. I was so bored.
by vanessa1357924680 |
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Beneath the Haunted Woods: Part Four Nothing but the sounds of crumbling stones and rock could be heard as Arthur traversed the dark, hollow tunnel, his hand against the wall to keep himself from slipping over the rough, jagged ground beneath him. The red Zafara’s legs ached, his head throbbed and his eyes weary. Small, loose stones that littered the cave floor pinched, stabbed and strained his feet with every step.
by shadowknight_72 |
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