Isle of Wyrms

Dear Emilly,

Its been too long since I wrote to you. Its such shame that you haven't been able to accompany us on our little excursions; your grace and composure under pressure has been greatly missed. But we've managed to come back in one piece every time so far, so we're doing rather well for us. Still, it was a close run thing this time out I can assure you.

I was delighted to receive an invitation from Miss Tamura (the lovely dragon lady who we met at the Elven City the other evening) to visit her in her homeland. You can imagine how excited I was - I've heard of the Isle of Wyrms, but never actually been there. Oolon and Terry seemed quite excited too when I mentioned it and Oolon thought it would be a good run out for the Old Girl. So we got ourselves sorted and the preparation almost took my mind off the fact that Oolon had taken Alfonso back to his explorations. I do hope those jumpers fit him; I'm not the best knitter in the world and Cousin Rumpel was a bit busy. I say cousin, but its a bit of a tortuous family linkage, if you know what I mean. Still, excellent craftsman.


This is a picture of me later in the day, but its the only one I have of me in my kimono. I put it on especially as it has dragons on it and its very smart. Dragons like silk and yellow is a very auspicious colour for Oriental ones.

Anyway, I digress. Oolon set the Old Girl in motion and then got a bit over excited, as he does. He kept babbling on about a wyrmhole, which apparently is a terribly hilarious joke of some sort; I swear that Terry was crying. Apparently it made it all the more easy for us to reach our destination.

It wasn't long before our arrival attracted some attention from the locals, so Oolon thought he'd better lock up, just to be on the safe side. We know we can get at least two dragons in the ETD, but he didn't fancy trying for a world record. I thought it was as bit premature to lock up as Terry really didn't seem dressed for all the snow, but she assured me that she was fine (and she does have her own key after all).

Miss Tamura was there to greet us, in her three headed form. It was about this time that the Brownie in the box started muttering about bleaching out and lack of pigment, but he's a misery some days so I just left him to it. Now dragons are very good at controlling elemental forces, which means that they are excellent builders. Miss Tamura, despite her relative youth in dragon terms, is quite an accomplished artificer. She summoned the very rocks for us (apparently it's a present for the dashing Mr Hawks, a very nice wolf she introduced us to). Of course, Oolon had to climb it.

A very scantily dressed young hatchling called Miss Coronet (and I mean scantily - it would make even you blush, Em; well I suppose most dragons do have the equivalent of central heating) then showed us some of her work. Dragons like to take very good care of their eggs and cosset them somewhat, and she had been in the process of constructing a magnificent chamber for them. I must say that the hatchling bed looked as if it would make an excellent pixie chair, with a few minor adjustments.

Oolon then started shouting something about shops, which really threw me for a moment. Then I realised that it was a cunning distractionary tactic to get me away from the cave and on to the adventure. Either that or he hadn't fully recovered from his encounter with Mr Mesmer; who knows? So, I dutifully toddled after him and Terry, while Miss Tamura tidied up her rock pile.

Oolon had surpassed even my skills in retail opportunity identification and had found a gigantic temple to shopping. It was enormous (and I know most things are to me, but this was truly humungous). But it was good to know that as we trailed around this edifice of consumption, even a dragon appreciates the need for a good cup of tea.

Miss Tamura asked us if we would like to see where the dragons currently hatch and of course we said yes. One doesn't often get the opportunity to visit such a magical place. I did try not to get too excited, but it was very tricky.

It was about this time that I began to realise that all was truly not well with the Brownie. It may well have been the cold, but the lazy little blighter hasn't painted in the back wall of the hatchery. Please excuse the fact that several of the later pictures are also missing bits. He insists it was a technical fault, caused by the onset of the hurricane and the low temperatures. He even argues that they are more impressionistic this way (apparently that means he can charge more money for them). I shall have to ask Mr Burleigh about that next time I see him.

Oolon and Terry became very embroiled in a discussion about the relevant incubatory and conduction properties of gold and silver coinage, with Miss Tamura nodding in agreement (although she might just have been being polite). The eggs were very pretty, although there were only two of them. I do hope they'll be alright in there by themselves.

Miss Tamura then took us up to the Great Hall, a truly magnificent architectural space that took our breath away (and not just because of its altitude). It was smashing, Emilly, and you may wish to study the following plates carefully as you design your pavillion.

While we were admiring the sheer grandeur of the Hall, Mr Hawks arrived with his friend Mr Burton (I can't remember his surname, isn't that awful of me?), who is a fox. Mr Hawks is very cute and I can see why Miss Tamura and Miss Andalso are fond of him. Being a wolf, the approaching storm was affecting him already and he was struggling to maintain his composure and his human form.

Miss Tamura contiued to be an excellent guide, taking us next to the drum circle. I now understand why she and Miss Andalso were drawn to our music making at Svarga - they are very fond of elven drums and have their own set here. The dance area was large, as you would expect, and brightly decorated. There were magnificent views back up to the Great Hall (please excuse the missing bits).

The building hurricane began to affect Miss Tamura as we danced and she begged our forgiveness as she took her leave. It was beginning to affect us in little ways; my balance was becoming unsteady and my sense of direction wasn't quite what it should be, which resulted in me getting lost a few times during the following wanderings. And banging my head. But not until after Oolon found something else to pose heroically on.

I then proceeded to fall off the edge of the precipice imediately after instructing the Brownie to paint this shot (he's obviously more afraid of Oolon than me because he actually finished this one). And that's when I banged my head and found this scary thing lurking in a cave near a locked treasure chest.


Well, I think I found it. Maybe I was hallucinating. I did manage to get out of the caves on my own eventually, but I couldn't find Oolon or Terry anywhere and I didn't want to shout in case I started an avalanche. Fortunately that pretty bracelet that Oolon gave me at Svarga came to the rescue. Somehow it lets him find out where I am and call me to him. And I haven't managed to break it yet, so maybe its more magic than science. It has a sciencey name, but I forget what it is. Still he managed to blot his copy book within seconds by prodding the bump on my head. I asked him why and he said so that he knew where it hurt. I told him that I already knew that and he smiled. He can be very dim sometimes for a very bright man, don't you find?

Our time was getting short, so we headed off again, despite the worsening storm. Movement was slow and difficult, but eventually we did come to a narrow ravine with some very impressive buildings in it. Oolon insisted on posing next to this sign. Terry refers to this as a "tourist shot"; I gather from the tone of her voice that this isn't necessarily a good thing. I think Oolon got a bit over excited, because he was crackling again.

I found what looked to be some very pretty houses up on a bluff over looking the ravine, but although Terry and Oolon could enter, I was forbidden by these big glowy red letters. I even tried to use my human glamour to get in just in case the owner had a thing against Pixies, but it didn't work. I got stuck in allsorts of horrible places trying to get in, but I gave up in the end. And to make matters worse, when I tried to go back to being me my wings wouldn't come back.

It must be said that I got a bit over emotional at that point and Oolon decided that the Linden Storm was getting too bad for adventuring and took us back to the ETD. Terry assured me that she could still see my wings, but they were in the fourth dimension and the storm was stopping me from seeing them properly. Oolon kept winking at her, so I think the storm must have blown something into his eye. But she was right, they did come back. I was very heartily relieved, I can tell you. Pixies are practically naked without their wings.

Oh, better go. I have to clean up the Colony and someone is sitting on top of my clock.....

Your affectionate friend

Fuschia.