Correspondence of the Fharfegtuben Clan

A very early note from Miow's adventures reads:

Dear Mom,

Don't suggest going through with the experiment with undead cats for pest control. This seems to create a permanently nasty disposition in any creature, if I can judge by the inhabitants of the graveyard in Valorian's Vale. And towards ALL beings still living. Do suggest you talk to an old man here, though... he's got a lead on a system that could help you really cut down the travel time for special jobs and deliveries.

-Miow

A slightly later one reads

Dear Uncle Patches,

I believe I may have the solution for your client who lives near Icereach! Here is a sample of a crystal I have found in my travels. Try using it on some collars, and putting them on the cats. It should make them resistant to the cold.
Have not encountered any particularly interesting cats, however, perhaps in the same manner as you somehow managed to crossbreed the blink dogs in with the cats, there are these "invisible stalkers" about that may work. Mr. Piccolo is currently refining his skills so that he may become an accomplished menagerist and open a circus. I'm training to be the high wire and trapeze performer! He says that so long as I help him, he will be glad to send specimens to you as soon as he is able.
Also, if you're going to go see that client near Shatasomethingwhatever, be advised they've been having a troll problem. Bring someone who can read scrolls... enclosed is one from my friend Vizzini that should help called "acid sheath".

Regards,
Miow

Dear Family:

Sorry about the holes in the parchment. I discovered a few things today:

-should one come across a Hat of Disguise, it can make you look like an orc, but trying to talk to them in a little gnome voice in common ruins the illusion
-orc archers sure do have a good quartermaster that gets them an awful lot of acid arrows (hence the holes)
-don't worry, i'm fine, because, thank gort, none of them can spot a sneaky type to save their lives

All this because I accepted a job to deliver some special metal that can only be found in orc territory. I sure hope these mysterious elves pay well enough for it to be worth it. All I found today were orcs, no bars of iron.

While I was wandering about looking for entry into the Sylvan realm, just to be prepared, I did find a place you should visit that I believe is called Daramok! There you can find panthers and dire tigers. I think they would be ideal for crossbreeding to control giant problems.

Also, could you send me my cat mask from when I was younger? I have met magic users who are able to enhance items with various powers and should like to revive this childhood favorite! I have enclosed a few GP to cover the cost of the messenger, if you could please just have it brought to the Sleeping Dragon...

-Miow

Dear Mom, Dad, Betrand, Mittens, and rest of family:

Thank you very much for sending the mask! I have had it enchanted into a custom item with the help of a purple sparkly dragon and it is serving me very well. You know how I used to confound you by finding a place and never being able to remember where it was later? The mask now lets me find back these places without error!
Thank you for the bells and ribbons, too. I haven't got any kitties myself these days, but I've got an idea for those...

I'm writing also to let you know about a splendid idea I came up with over a giant pile of fried chicken. While I do not particularly advise the undead cat thing, having met a ghost chicken recently, I greatly suggest a few of those! They're quite fast and hard to hit, and even if you do hit it, it doesn't hurt them unless you've got something very magic. The cats would become very adept, the ghost chicken could cluck and cackle and haha, cats cannot hurt me now! And ghost chickens seem smarter than regular chickens, particularly the ghosts of very skinny chickens for some reason, so I'm sure one could be taught to communicate in Morse Bwark with Aunt Harriet and help keep her company. Make fun of us gnome-bodied types together and all that.

Gort bless,
Miow

Hehhehheh

Dear Mother, Father, Bertrand, Mittens, Patches, and Aunt Harriet too--

I'm sorry the mention of fried chicken frightened you, Aunt Harriet, when the letter was read. I have enclosed a jarful of Devourer Beetles. Please don't let them near any of the gnome-bodied food. Please DO, however, let the little bastards near Aunt Harriet and the rest of her coop. I think that she and the chicken-brained chickens will find them quite tasty, and what Aunt Harriet the Feisty will do to them quite deserving.

Included is a map of a section of Deathwater Island. Many strange creatures live there, many of which I heartily suggest that untrained members of the family avoid. I have clearly marked routes which are the most dangerous, and which creatures one can expect to find there. I do strongly suggest the usage of minor invisibility rings. It is difficult to convey the true size of dinosaurs even to fellow bright gnomes. As the map indicates, once in the Temple of Teeth, please do pay attention to the carvings. The lions, suitable for crossbreeds where large size will be necessary *and* you will need cats who work well in teams, are in the section with the "two inch teeth."

[Goes on at some length about her observations about the various creatures of Aenea that she has encountered]

I recently met a nice old bard named Alastair. He has this trick that "makes cats fall out of trees." It is much different, and much more powerful, than the simple sleeping spell that many of the family children learn. While it does seem that he has had a long time (for a human) to perfect his arts, it does seem possible that a client may be bothered by an unscrupulous bard at some point. I suggest the von Fharfegtubens be contacted about perhaps constructing collars granting immunities to somnific magics... or perhaps, as regenerative items are made from troll hide or hair, perhaps some of the family could donate some of their own hair? We are notoriously resistant to magics. If the more magical branch of the family finds this to be out of their realm of expertise, I know just the gnome to ask...

Your loving daughter/sister/stepdaughter/niece/etc,
Miow

Dear family,

I'm so glad you enjoy my treatises on the various creatures of Aenea. I am oh so flattered that you wish me to learn more about the sentient races of Aenea. I have met most of them by now, but have not corresponded with many of the rarer peoples at length. I shall attempt to engage some in conversation when next I meet them. I suspect it will be difficult to glean information from orcs anytime soon, as I do not speak Orcish yet. I have learned Undercommon, so I should be able to converse with Duergar or Drow even if they don't know common. I've picked up Dwarven, too, but mostly they have been all business. Or drunk. Stereotypical, but true so far. I'm sure they're much more complex than that, of course... and I've yet to puzzle out what this one dwarf is all about. Makes good magic items though.

I'm sorry to hear about Cousin Shadow's indisposition... but if it does appear to be connected to the moons as you say, perhaps he did contract lycanthropy... perhaps a cleric of Asis could tell you more? It is a form of disease, after all. I haven't conversed with any werewolves that I know of, but the only ones I've encountered have been a bit... bestial at the time. I tried to tell them that I wished them no harm, but the two moons glared down on us and they would not hear me. I was forced to defend myself... it makes me sad to think about. It was early in my travels, and I had not yet learned to hide and sneak as I do now, or I'd have left them quietly and let them be, hoping no one else came to harm. Beware if you hear howling in the night with the full moons... it is probably lycans.

Love,
Miow

Dear family,

I have actually managed to gain some insight to the drow, having had occasion to interact with several of late, several from the same family, in fact. This particular interaction with siblings has caused me to conclude that Bertrand is right, and breeding is not the be all, end all. The first sibling I interacted with, Aurora, appears to be the very pinnacle of the idea of drowdom we "surfacers" (drow term) have. She is a foul murderess of the highest degree and irredeemably evil. She relishes her path and delights in bloodshed and despises "the weak" and especially "weak surfacers." She did seem taken aback at my questionings of her philosophy, but not taken aback enough to reconsider her murderous ways in the slightest. I suggested the hiring of a Farstep Master (a type of wizard specializing in magics of teleportation, see attached detailed description) to forcibly teleport her into the lair of a Beholder Elder (see Appendix Bee for full descriptions; I find them great fun to play with but most others just seem to find themseves at the Great Hall) and then block her from teleporting out. Unfortunately, a pair of adventurers informed me that this had already been tried. Didn't stick, apparently. Ah well. And here I thought I'd had an original idea...
Her younger brother, however, shows potential. If the evil were inherent in the blood of drow, would he not be vile as well? Especially with his particular bloodline? He does not appear to be evil in the same way as Aurora. He is not good, nor even neutral so far as I can tell, as he is a paid assassin, but he has not shown the same revelry in slaughter as his sister. I have succeeded in preventing an evil act through what some may call an act of kindness, and what others may term bribery, but I have promised not to speak of it. He eventually seemed to put aside his ingrained disdain for "surfacer" culture in the face of greater curiosity. Judicious application of Fishhead's Oil seemed to aid this. I have attempted to communicate our differing concepts of love, happiness, value of life, etc, but I'm not sure how successful I was. I did manage to give him a taste for surfacer food... pumpkin in particular. After we got past that drunken choking on seeds thing. I hope, with further meetings and bribes/kindnesses, to try to nudge him away from an evil state of being.
At any rate, I believe that this is strong empirical evidence for Bertrand's hypothesis of socialization and is grounds enough for elevating it to theory, and would be happy to forward any detailed notes for use at the next meeting of the Gnomish Breeders' Guild.

I know that at this point, it has been some years since I have visited in person, and I do so miss you and the kitties terribly! I'm pleased to inform you that I have amassed enough wealth to purchase a home at which you may visit me! Or, I've paid the Firehair family to research, develop, and construct an ideal dwelling for me. I will still travel extensively, but now I'll be able to rest there rather than at some random inn or cave or field. Am thinking to have some sort of treehouse constructed in one of the forests nearby the Vale... perhaps you could do some trading with the Darkroots on your way in.

Love,
Miow

Ah, the hijinks that ensue after you take a drow to see the die-no-sars

Well, he seemed to figure out the die part pretty quick...

Dear Mum, Dad, Non-parental Spouses, Siblings, Half Siblings, and Non-Parental Spouse Semi-Siblings:

The other day I made a nice new friend Ailie who took me to go see a "icy bony dragon." That was an experience that resulted in the eventual need to, quite simply, run away as fast as possible and teleport out to avoid dying... er... dying yet again. Further research on how to deal with dracoliches is clearly in order. I have some ideas towards that end and will forward the results when my nice little friend and I regroup and defeat the nasty thing. Have I mentioned before that I HATE dracoliches. Especially ones with huge orcish armies at their commands. Or ones with vampiric somethinorother complicated servant-masters. URG. Hopefully my new Holy Fishhead's Oil will be of some help in this regard. Enclosed, please find a copy of my notes thus far in this regard.

Ms. Firehair and I are almost in agreement as to the modular plans for my treehouse. I wanted it to be just perfect, you know? It shall have four levels, the first of which I will open to weary travellers that they might rest and have a bit of food. On the second, I've placed a sort of conversational room, the kitchen, and a personal hygiene area. (Most humans seem to call this the bathroom, next time you need to stop at a human run inn I think this is what you will wish to ask for, lest you confuse them.) The third level shall have the biggest, comfiest bed ever for myself and the kitties to sleep on, and the top level I have designed to be a small, simple observatory. Oh, ah, you may wish to, um, not let Aunt Harriet past the first level. Yes. I have developed a bit of a taste for fried chicken and I wouldn't wish to traumatize her.

Enclosed, please also find my winter holiday gifts for the whole family. I know you said you didn't want or need too much, but you were all so kind as to support me financially in my initital adventures, I feel it's only right.

Love, Miow

Miow seals the package, feeling oddly sad. Her research for the family is nearly complete... and then what? She'd been so consumed with it for so long, it being her sole focus to life (when she remembered, anyway)...

Just discovered this tale, or should I say tail, and love it. Especially with the "is your cat sick" and "Pet allergies" advertisements at the top.

Miow stared at the violently quaking egg, and felt her stomach flutter in an unfamiliar fashion as cracks began to appear in its shimmering metallic surface. It had seemed like a good, obvious idea at the time... the poor, beleaguered mother... there were too many of them, she couldn't have saved her in time... the one undamaged egg she'd grabbed and run away with as fast as she could...
was hatching...
A tiny, shining head thrust itself through the shell, and began to pull the rest of itself out. It blinked its eyes a few times in the bright light on top of the Vale hill, and then focused on her with intelligence rather higher than usually seen in newborns... er... hatchlings. It cocked its head inquisitively, furrowed its tiny, scaled brow, and said, in perfect Draconic: "Mama?"
Miow felt a bit lightheaded.


Some hours later, a messenger was speeding towards the last known camp of the Fharfeg clan, having been paid quite a lot of money for express delivery of the unusually short, hastily scrawled letter:

Dear Family,

I know we have not much experience in the affairs of dragons, as they often find meddlers tasty and the mere mention of "breeding" is a good way to insure a short life...
but I need, as soon as possible, any and all advice you may have for the care and feeding of a newly hatched dragon. Copper, to be specific. I am not sure male or female at this early age, and have opted to name the wyrmling Sarkany, it being close to 'dragon' in the tongue of one of the minor mountain clans I once encountered.

Thanks,
Miow

PS: AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.