| Neopia's Fill-in-the-blank News Source |
Circulation: 195,283,450 |
Issue: 837 | 17th day of Hiding, Y20 |
|
| |
Continued Series
 | The Big Move:Part FiveAfter sending everyone off, I knew I had only a limited amount of time before they all came back to the house. Actually, the more I thought of it, the more I realized that there was probably going to be a lot of distractions with everyone interacting with each other for a long period of time so I had a bit of time on my hands.
by hannahcreep |  | King Altador's Substitute:Part FourEventually, Queen Nera managed to fix everything. The small yooyu island had been fully repaired, the Hall of Heroes ceiling was fixed, the altachucks had been found and returned to their cages, and everything seemed to be in order, finally.
by trishabeakens |  | Lupe Pack Detectives-Copycat:Part TwoIt had been several days since the attack on Headquarters was reported as breaking news in the Neopian Times. While both Squire Oak and I were stuck at Shade’s Neohome for safety concerns, Shade was out gathering whatever information he could dig up from his sources.
by lupe_hunter_7 |
| |
|
Search the Neopian Times
Headlines
"Regar and the Potion
" by butterflybandage
The light from the fire was just bright enough to illuminate Regar’s desk. The parchments were rolled up onto each other, the wet ink smearing at the corners. The fire also shone an orange light onto the other fixtures of Regar’s home: the tall bookshelf filled with every magic book under the sun, potions that had been passed down from masters to apprentices for thousands of years, specimens that seemed to move when just out of eyeshot, a rusty kettle atop an old wooden end table, a thick shaggy coat that hung on the wall beside an intricate walking stick, and, finally, a musty cot, taken from an abandoned cabin and covered with moss to add comfort. This little cot was where Regar rested, the uncomfortable bed the place he laid his head to collect his thoughts.
Regar was old. He had taught many wizards and wizardesses over the years, and his antiquated teaching methods were becoming less and less sought after. These days, everyone wanted to be a ninja or a pirate or—Fyora forbid—a beauty contestant. Regar didn’t quite understand when the world had changed, but it did—and it was sudden, inexplicable, unforgiving. Time used to morph and bend at Regar’s will, but now it couldn’t quite seem to give him a chance to catch up.
Other Stories
---------
---------
 Regar and the Potion
The light from the fire was just bright enough to illuminate Regar’s desk. The parchments were rolled up onto each other, the wet ink smearing at the corners. The fire also shone an orange light onto the other fixtures of Regar’s home: the tall bookshelf filled with every magic book under the sun, potions that had been passed down from masters to apprentices for thousands of years, specimens that seemed to move when just out of eyeshot, a rusty kettle atop an old wooden end table, a thick shaggy coat that hung on the wall beside an intricate walking stick, and, finally, a musty cot, taken from an abandoned cabin and covered with moss to add comfort.
by butterflybandage |
---------
---------
---------
---------
|
|
|
