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Saturday, May 23, 2009
Day Three, david
Brunch at the Castle
Three days on this lovely continent and still the novelty hasn't worn off! Always new things to explore for a Pom on the go.
After thanking him personally for the garden party yesterday, I snapped this photo of myself and Mr. Jarit. Does the man ever smile?
My friend J has finally gotten word to me and I am glad; however, the dizzy Pom has been bouncing all over the place like a Pom pinball. Somehow she ended up in Diren, then back in Garnedine, and is now back in Diren again! That's on the other end of the continent! I can only imagine what she's been up to over there.
We set up a brunch date on the beach of Diren, lovely I hear in all types of weather. That gave me some time to mosey my way over there, as good an opportunity as ever to do some more exploring. Since I made it on foot to the Greticos outposts yesterday I shortcuted to the castle itself via the convenient railway.
Not a submarine
The gate of Greticos
There I am, happy as a clam to be standing underneath such interesting architecture. Greticos is wide and quiet and empty, a stark contrast to the cramped and populous Garnedine town. Clearly this castle was built for vehicle access, I was out of breath just making it to the stairs.
Clean steam technology
The hallowed hall of the Rogwel council. You could hear a pin drop in that place and yet no one said 'bless you' when I sneezed.
Sadly I couldn't get an audience with the councilmembers themselves. I didn't expect much, what with this endless war and all. I feel I could bring a fresh perspective to the conflict though.
What wonderful architecture! I shook hands with the guards and told them what a good job they're doing before making my way west.
But only a little way down the road I was stopped in my tracks. What is this? An Elerd raiding party? Here? Just outside the castle? I was so flabbergasted I could only stop in my tracks.
The Elerdians took no notice of me. Or did one stop? Did one look at me and wave? Did I wave back?
Over the wireless came much talk about the raiding party, and I heard the calls to arms of more duty-minded Rogwelians as they tried to close in on the invaders.
After a minute a single Elerdian straggler came down the road far behind her party, running not fifty feet ahead of a pursuing Rogwel. It looked like an exhausting race, a race of death, and I did not know what I could do to aid either party.
I kept on walking.
I love all these gates. Makes me feel like I'm getting somewhere.
Have I mentioned how much I adore my weapon?
Wind power is like steam power, but pretty.
The cramped and bugful forests opened up to wide and squidful beaches and I saw in the distance a clear blue ocean dotted with islands, and the yellow sands of the Rusty Coast.
And there, swinging around a sword slightly larger than herself, was J!
We cheered and danced like old Pomfriends do. She grabbed my arm and dragged me running at full speed back to Diren town for tea.
Three days on this lovely continent and still the novelty hasn't worn off! Always new things to explore for a Pom on the go.
After thanking him personally for the garden party yesterday, I snapped this photo of myself and Mr. Jarit. Does the man ever smile?
My friend J has finally gotten word to me and I am glad; however, the dizzy Pom has been bouncing all over the place like a Pom pinball. Somehow she ended up in Diren, then back in Garnedine, and is now back in Diren again! That's on the other end of the continent! I can only imagine what she's been up to over there.
We set up a brunch date on the beach of Diren, lovely I hear in all types of weather. That gave me some time to mosey my way over there, as good an opportunity as ever to do some more exploring. Since I made it on foot to the Greticos outposts yesterday I shortcuted to the castle itself via the convenient railway.
Not a submarine
The gate of Greticos
There I am, happy as a clam to be standing underneath such interesting architecture. Greticos is wide and quiet and empty, a stark contrast to the cramped and populous Garnedine town. Clearly this castle was built for vehicle access, I was out of breath just making it to the stairs.
Clean steam technology
The hallowed hall of the Rogwel council. You could hear a pin drop in that place and yet no one said 'bless you' when I sneezed.
Sadly I couldn't get an audience with the councilmembers themselves. I didn't expect much, what with this endless war and all. I feel I could bring a fresh perspective to the conflict though.
What wonderful architecture! I shook hands with the guards and told them what a good job they're doing before making my way west.
But only a little way down the road I was stopped in my tracks. What is this? An Elerd raiding party? Here? Just outside the castle? I was so flabbergasted I could only stop in my tracks.
The Elerdians took no notice of me. Or did one stop? Did one look at me and wave? Did I wave back?
Over the wireless came much talk about the raiding party, and I heard the calls to arms of more duty-minded Rogwelians as they tried to close in on the invaders.
After a minute a single Elerdian straggler came down the road far behind her party, running not fifty feet ahead of a pursuing Rogwel. It looked like an exhausting race, a race of death, and I did not know what I could do to aid either party.
I kept on walking.
I love all these gates. Makes me feel like I'm getting somewhere.
Have I mentioned how much I adore my weapon?
Wind power is like steam power, but pretty.
The cramped and bugful forests opened up to wide and squidful beaches and I saw in the distance a clear blue ocean dotted with islands, and the yellow sands of the Rusty Coast.
And there, swinging around a sword slightly larger than herself, was J!
We cheered and danced like old Pomfriends do. She grabbed my arm and dragged me running at full speed back to Diren town for tea.
Day Three
A Big Adventure
When I got word from my best mate David Drocilephisus Rangi-something that it was high time I headed out, I took it to core. In my tiny village there aren't too many exciting happenings; once an Elerd lost his way and that was a good meal. After a great recycling party, Mum gave me a ticket for the air balloon. I've never been on one and was a bit nervous.
Gosh, but do they go way up there! When we landed, I noticed I wasn't near Garnedine at all. Where was I?
I was well lost, but decided I would go by paw to the big city. Maybe by the time I had arrived I'd even have some stories of my own to tell. The land was so strange! Thick jungles filled with such creatures even GrammyPom with her wild stories could not imagine. I was glad to have my homemade Pomera with me to show everyone back home. I asked an elfin girl to take a snapshot of me in a lovely field.
I don't know why she ran away. I was hoping for tea. Ah well, I had to continue on my journey. When I finally reached the town of Portis there were towers of steel and so many people in a rush! The machinery moved in rhythm with my excited heart. A pom could lose their minds here.
A security camera caught the moment I went from pomgirl to pomlady and yet I could not celebrate fully without D. I left a note with a panda ambassador about my future whereabouts. I hope to meet up with him soon. For now, I will try and make new friends on this big adventure.
This may be a rubbish bin, and not a friend.
When I got word from my best mate David Drocilephisus Rangi-something that it was high time I headed out, I took it to core. In my tiny village there aren't too many exciting happenings; once an Elerd lost his way and that was a good meal. After a great recycling party, Mum gave me a ticket for the air balloon. I've never been on one and was a bit nervous.
Gosh, but do they go way up there! When we landed, I noticed I wasn't near Garnedine at all. Where was I?
I was well lost, but decided I would go by paw to the big city. Maybe by the time I had arrived I'd even have some stories of my own to tell. The land was so strange! Thick jungles filled with such creatures even GrammyPom with her wild stories could not imagine. I was glad to have my homemade Pomera with me to show everyone back home. I asked an elfin girl to take a snapshot of me in a lovely field.
I don't know why she ran away. I was hoping for tea. Ah well, I had to continue on my journey. When I finally reached the town of Portis there were towers of steel and so many people in a rush! The machinery moved in rhythm with my excited heart. A pom could lose their minds here.
A security camera caught the moment I went from pomgirl to pomlady and yet I could not celebrate fully without D. I left a note with a panda ambassador about my future whereabouts. I hope to meet up with him soon. For now, I will try and make new friends on this big adventure.
This may be a rubbish bin, and not a friend.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Day Two
You're invited to a Garden Party!
Remember when I said the steam-chamber-whatever was rejuvenating? I don't think I was in there long enough the first time. First, imagine being stuffed in a washing machine that's rolling down a mountain. Then, combine that with being dragged down a gravel road by an elephant while a small team of monkeys beats you with metal sticks. For eight hours. The combination of senses might be a modern marvel but call me old-fashioned I'd much rather have a nice soft bunny-down bed thank you very much.
Still no word from my traveling friend so I set out bright and early in the morning for exploring. I boarded a steam ship outside of town and headed for the middle of nowhere.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I mean, remarkable.
I've never been much of a fan of fast travel — the best surveying tools are your own two little feet, I always say. No point in going anywhere you're not willing to walk to. But the lovely steam balloon ship was a ride and a half and I'm not afraid to admit I giggled like a Pomchild at the view.
From there I trekked halfway across the continent, seeing many a strange and scary sight.
Here I visit the grave of my dear great-aunt Gertrude. Actually I have no idea whose grave it was, what language is that?
But after a few hours it seemed that solo exploration on its own was a little profitless. I decided I should go see what normal Rogwelians do on a normal day, and that way explore a little of their culture.
Back in town all people were talking about was a strange land named Riall, which doesn't exist on any map. After inquiring around I found that the only way to get there was by subway (which was quite literally named).
Riall, as it turns out, is a meeting of the two great continents Elerd and Rogwel. Not the seat of a great summit or a meeting of the minds, though. No, they meet to fight over stuff.
Here I am engaged in a discussion of Forms with an Elerdian counterpart
After spending some time around poisonous beetles and dragonflies (and being defeated regularly by Elerd scouting parties) I was handed, out of the blue, an invitation to a garden party.
Now if you know me, and by now I think you might just a little, you know that I love garden parties. I am a connoisseur of sorts; my favorite in recent memory has to be that of King Nantu of Illyria, where the teas and confections were delivered from above by animatronic butterflies. I had, I confess, a few two many blue rumdonglers and passed out in the lap of the fair princess Rhonda, which didn't go ever well with her betrothed, who was at least four Poms tall and had a bit of a jealous streak. How I escaped a lashing that night is the subject of an entirely different travel journal (and maybe an autobiography).
The Garden Party in Jerit's garden turned out to be of an entirely different sort. First, Count Jarit wasn't attending, much to my disappointment. Second, instead of food, there were monsters. Third, instead of tea, there were angry Elerdians.
When attacking the Elerdians, the monsters would come and bite me on the butt. When attacking the monsters, the Elerdians would also come and bite me on the butt. At least their summons would. It was largely uncomfortable but quite exhilarating.
"help"
Here my helpful friend pretends to be a powerful fighting machine. Oh, you!
Poms Musketeers
The battle was held by Rogwel (for a time, at least) and in a lull in the fighting I took the chance to wander among my counterparts and chat with them a little.
It was a diplomatic gesture, one that I hope will not be ignored by either side.
This gentleman was not one for talking
Here I got to take an enemy summons out for a walk! Adorable!
Here is the crazy bitnip that would run into the middle of our party and wait for her shield to run out.
After a little talking it turns out we shared many interests in common: thread, organ music, watching the sunset on the beach, peanut butter and mutton sandwiches. Though her language was incomprehensible and her ears laughable we both spoke a common Pom-and-Elf language. Maybe I'm being presumptuous here, but isn't that the language of the heart?
Oh, star-crossed lovers!
Sadly it was not to be, for two main reasons. First, I cannot begrudge any lady for trying to kill me once in a while, but to have succeeded at it repeatedly is a little too much to take.
Second, I had to stand on a hill to talk to her.
Garden Party over, I received a message from my friend telling me that she was on her way into Rogwel so soon we'll hear from her. I'd like to say she was struck by lightning or swallowed by a whale or attacked by Pom-pirates. But no. She got lost.
Onward! Poms forever!
Remember when I said the steam-chamber-whatever was rejuvenating? I don't think I was in there long enough the first time. First, imagine being stuffed in a washing machine that's rolling down a mountain. Then, combine that with being dragged down a gravel road by an elephant while a small team of monkeys beats you with metal sticks. For eight hours. The combination of senses might be a modern marvel but call me old-fashioned I'd much rather have a nice soft bunny-down bed thank you very much.
Still no word from my traveling friend so I set out bright and early in the morning for exploring. I boarded a steam ship outside of town and headed for the middle of nowhere.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I mean, remarkable.
I've never been much of a fan of fast travel — the best surveying tools are your own two little feet, I always say. No point in going anywhere you're not willing to walk to. But the lovely steam balloon ship was a ride and a half and I'm not afraid to admit I giggled like a Pomchild at the view.
From there I trekked halfway across the continent, seeing many a strange and scary sight.
Here I visit the grave of my dear great-aunt Gertrude. Actually I have no idea whose grave it was, what language is that?
But after a few hours it seemed that solo exploration on its own was a little profitless. I decided I should go see what normal Rogwelians do on a normal day, and that way explore a little of their culture.
Back in town all people were talking about was a strange land named Riall, which doesn't exist on any map. After inquiring around I found that the only way to get there was by subway (which was quite literally named).
Riall, as it turns out, is a meeting of the two great continents Elerd and Rogwel. Not the seat of a great summit or a meeting of the minds, though. No, they meet to fight over stuff.
Here I am engaged in a discussion of Forms with an Elerdian counterpart
After spending some time around poisonous beetles and dragonflies (and being defeated regularly by Elerd scouting parties) I was handed, out of the blue, an invitation to a garden party.
Now if you know me, and by now I think you might just a little, you know that I love garden parties. I am a connoisseur of sorts; my favorite in recent memory has to be that of King Nantu of Illyria, where the teas and confections were delivered from above by animatronic butterflies. I had, I confess, a few two many blue rumdonglers and passed out in the lap of the fair princess Rhonda, which didn't go ever well with her betrothed, who was at least four Poms tall and had a bit of a jealous streak. How I escaped a lashing that night is the subject of an entirely different travel journal (and maybe an autobiography).
The Garden Party in Jerit's garden turned out to be of an entirely different sort. First, Count Jarit wasn't attending, much to my disappointment. Second, instead of food, there were monsters. Third, instead of tea, there were angry Elerdians.
When attacking the Elerdians, the monsters would come and bite me on the butt. When attacking the monsters, the Elerdians would also come and bite me on the butt. At least their summons would. It was largely uncomfortable but quite exhilarating.
"help"
Here my helpful friend pretends to be a powerful fighting machine. Oh, you!
Poms Musketeers
The battle was held by Rogwel (for a time, at least) and in a lull in the fighting I took the chance to wander among my counterparts and chat with them a little.
It was a diplomatic gesture, one that I hope will not be ignored by either side.
This gentleman was not one for talking
Here I got to take an enemy summons out for a walk! Adorable!
Here is the crazy bitnip that would run into the middle of our party and wait for her shield to run out.
After a little talking it turns out we shared many interests in common: thread, organ music, watching the sunset on the beach, peanut butter and mutton sandwiches. Though her language was incomprehensible and her ears laughable we both spoke a common Pom-and-Elf language. Maybe I'm being presumptuous here, but isn't that the language of the heart?
Oh, star-crossed lovers!
Sadly it was not to be, for two main reasons. First, I cannot begrudge any lady for trying to kill me once in a while, but to have succeeded at it repeatedly is a little too much to take.
Second, I had to stand on a hill to talk to her.
Garden Party over, I received a message from my friend telling me that she was on her way into Rogwel so soon we'll hear from her. I'd like to say she was struck by lightning or swallowed by a whale or attacked by Pom-pirates. But no. She got lost.
Onward! Poms forever!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Day One
It's Not that We are Small, but that the World is Large
David Drocilephisus Rangidoon Bop, Pom-vivant and exploratory connoisseur
As traveler and explorer by nature, I can never turn down an opportunity to traipse through new lands, to wiggle my toes in exotic grasses, to face certain death before fearsome yet strangely adorable enemies. Why did the Pom go over the mountain? To see what he could see, of course! Then he got a chair to stand on so he could see better.
In that spirit, this Pom has decided to go see what he can see in the wonderful world of Chrysalis. Other persons of more dubious breeding than yours truly can go through a world like this. They can dive in and learn all the catch phrases and hit the deepest darkiest of the dungeons and the tip-toppiest of the mountains. They could learn the best tricks and don the snazziest outfits and think that they know. Well let me tell you, Poms have never been about the coolest gear or fastest fists. If a straight line really was the fastest distance between two points, why would we have Zeppelins?
When a wide open world is presented to us, we bask in it. Sometimes we rub our toes in it! Sometimes we shake our bootys at it. Sometimes we finish quests.
Much of the world is best viewed from on your bum
I entered the continent of Rogwel on a air steamer designed by Poms of old, a gloriously inefficient ball of wonderful. On the flight I leafed through a book of Pom koans, some of which I may relate to you.
Being a traveler I have no set citizenship, but I chose to journey to Rogwel because the principles of technology seem far more in fit with that of exploration than those of Magic. It does offend me a smidge that the Pom races have been segregated so, I do love the Elerds' fuzzy snowball-faced-Poms.
I shouldn't speculate aloud, some Humans might overhear and think I'm a traitor. But don't they too, just once, look across the aisle at Riall at some bright-eyed, tiny-nosed Elf girl and think "Why, why must we fight?
(Elves though. How could you stand to look at a girl with no body hair? That's just not right.)
My first stop stop in Rogwel was the first stop for many machinists, the lovely town of Garnedine.
I posed here with Mr. Keeper for his entry in the Garnedine 'Stash of the Month calendar
There are many things about this continent one cannot help but noticing. Like, why are there are no male elves?
The battle tutu, while providing some defence in the front, leaves one end woefully exposed.
But look at these machines! Zeppelins, Steam riders, mounts, miners! Things that go woosh or bap or ding or donk, enough exposed gears to make a watchmaker weep. I'm certain the purpose of most of these contraptions is just to look good, and I'm fine with that. It's a purpose I am well acquainted with.
You might not know it, but to a Pom, this is porn.
This is porn too. But way more kinky.
But every journey must begin with a single step, provided that step is over some baddie's twitching carcass. The town might be loud and lovely and full of ticking things and glowing blue cylinders but adventure, as they say, lies beyond the village.
So I began, spoke to those needing speaking to, updated my maps and collected my things and set off. And as preparation and a gift the town leaders hand me a rusty scrape of metal that wouldn't scare a stunted butter-hamster. Brilliant.
I was frightened, yes. I have always been a traveler first, you see. The actual duties of adventuring start to make my stomach churn with too many questions. Why are there so many harmful creatures so close to a settlement? How come they aren't extinct what with this daily organized genocide? What kind of life cycles must they have? I ask myself, if the Humans one day decide one to hunt us Poms, how long would we last?
Well, probably a lot longer than the Humans, since we're the only race with both sexes on the same continent.
Plus we're bad-ass.
Here I am standing over my first ever kill. I was so happy I wished the flower would get back up and celebrate with me. Sadly he was dead.
After some bandying about with that flimsy piece of metal I gained enough confidence and gold to buy myself a proper weapon.
Truly an elegant weapon. Not as clumsy or random as a saber.
You see, to a Pom, the first joy in life will always be the tick and tock of gears and escapements, the way every part moves together as a single, well-oiled machine. But a close second would using said machine to blow things to pieces.
Now, I would never advocate hunting for sport. But even I know that sometimes it's necessary to use a weapon, sometimes you just have to go out and take down some monsters, especially if they give the guards in area trouble, harass travelers, or somehow swallow gold coins and the occasional piece of semi-rare armor. Or if someone you've never met before tells you to.
Needless to say I grew fond of this rifle very quickly.
Let's just say he saw it coming
After fightin' through the evening I decided that it was time to relax the weary trigger finger and shut in for the night. I looked around town for their most deluxe accommodations. Not having found those I sought their second-rate ones. Does anyone get any shut-eye in this town?
The answer: no. They do something better. They work while sleeping.
I was directed to the middle of a dirt field of walking, poisonous flowers and shown these lovely insta-sleeping-chambers. I didn't climb inside, it sort of built itself around me.
Well, it ain't roomy, the view is crap, and the neighbours are loud and sometimes try to kill you, but damn if I didn't feel invigorated after only a short time. I need to get one of these installed back home.
And that was my first day traveling in this lovely world. Granted, I didn't travel very much but I did take a lot of pictures. And isn't that all that really matters?
My sister-in-arms and fellow traveler Jocelyn has yet to arrive in town though, and I hope nothing's gone wrong. Probably it's just inclement weather, lightning can be such hell on zeppelins, what with them being flammable and all.
Nevermind that for now! Tomorrow will be a brand new day!
David Drocilephisus Rangidoon Bop, Pom-vivant and exploratory connoisseur
As traveler and explorer by nature, I can never turn down an opportunity to traipse through new lands, to wiggle my toes in exotic grasses, to face certain death before fearsome yet strangely adorable enemies. Why did the Pom go over the mountain? To see what he could see, of course! Then he got a chair to stand on so he could see better.
In that spirit, this Pom has decided to go see what he can see in the wonderful world of Chrysalis. Other persons of more dubious breeding than yours truly can go through a world like this. They can dive in and learn all the catch phrases and hit the deepest darkiest of the dungeons and the tip-toppiest of the mountains. They could learn the best tricks and don the snazziest outfits and think that they know. Well let me tell you, Poms have never been about the coolest gear or fastest fists. If a straight line really was the fastest distance between two points, why would we have Zeppelins?
When a wide open world is presented to us, we bask in it. Sometimes we rub our toes in it! Sometimes we shake our bootys at it. Sometimes we finish quests.
Much of the world is best viewed from on your bum
I entered the continent of Rogwel on a air steamer designed by Poms of old, a gloriously inefficient ball of wonderful. On the flight I leafed through a book of Pom koans, some of which I may relate to you.
Being a traveler I have no set citizenship, but I chose to journey to Rogwel because the principles of technology seem far more in fit with that of exploration than those of Magic. It does offend me a smidge that the Pom races have been segregated so, I do love the Elerds' fuzzy snowball-faced-Poms.
I shouldn't speculate aloud, some Humans might overhear and think I'm a traitor. But don't they too, just once, look across the aisle at Riall at some bright-eyed, tiny-nosed Elf girl and think "Why, why must we fight?
(Elves though. How could you stand to look at a girl with no body hair? That's just not right.)
My first stop stop in Rogwel was the first stop for many machinists, the lovely town of Garnedine.
I posed here with Mr. Keeper for his entry in the Garnedine 'Stash of the Month calendar
There are many things about this continent one cannot help but noticing. Like, why are there are no male elves?
The battle tutu, while providing some defence in the front, leaves one end woefully exposed.
But look at these machines! Zeppelins, Steam riders, mounts, miners! Things that go woosh or bap or ding or donk, enough exposed gears to make a watchmaker weep. I'm certain the purpose of most of these contraptions is just to look good, and I'm fine with that. It's a purpose I am well acquainted with.
You might not know it, but to a Pom, this is porn.
This is porn too. But way more kinky.
But every journey must begin with a single step, provided that step is over some baddie's twitching carcass. The town might be loud and lovely and full of ticking things and glowing blue cylinders but adventure, as they say, lies beyond the village.
So I began, spoke to those needing speaking to, updated my maps and collected my things and set off. And as preparation and a gift the town leaders hand me a rusty scrape of metal that wouldn't scare a stunted butter-hamster. Brilliant.
I was frightened, yes. I have always been a traveler first, you see. The actual duties of adventuring start to make my stomach churn with too many questions. Why are there so many harmful creatures so close to a settlement? How come they aren't extinct what with this daily organized genocide? What kind of life cycles must they have? I ask myself, if the Humans one day decide one to hunt us Poms, how long would we last?
Well, probably a lot longer than the Humans, since we're the only race with both sexes on the same continent.
Plus we're bad-ass.
Here I am standing over my first ever kill. I was so happy I wished the flower would get back up and celebrate with me. Sadly he was dead.
After some bandying about with that flimsy piece of metal I gained enough confidence and gold to buy myself a proper weapon.
Truly an elegant weapon. Not as clumsy or random as a saber.
You see, to a Pom, the first joy in life will always be the tick and tock of gears and escapements, the way every part moves together as a single, well-oiled machine. But a close second would using said machine to blow things to pieces.
Now, I would never advocate hunting for sport. But even I know that sometimes it's necessary to use a weapon, sometimes you just have to go out and take down some monsters, especially if they give the guards in area trouble, harass travelers, or somehow swallow gold coins and the occasional piece of semi-rare armor. Or if someone you've never met before tells you to.
Needless to say I grew fond of this rifle very quickly.
Let's just say he saw it coming
After fightin' through the evening I decided that it was time to relax the weary trigger finger and shut in for the night. I looked around town for their most deluxe accommodations. Not having found those I sought their second-rate ones. Does anyone get any shut-eye in this town?
The answer: no. They do something better. They work while sleeping.
I was directed to the middle of a dirt field of walking, poisonous flowers and shown these lovely insta-sleeping-chambers. I didn't climb inside, it sort of built itself around me.
Well, it ain't roomy, the view is crap, and the neighbours are loud and sometimes try to kill you, but damn if I didn't feel invigorated after only a short time. I need to get one of these installed back home.
And that was my first day traveling in this lovely world. Granted, I didn't travel very much but I did take a lot of pictures. And isn't that all that really matters?
My sister-in-arms and fellow traveler Jocelyn has yet to arrive in town though, and I hope nothing's gone wrong. Probably it's just inclement weather, lightning can be such hell on zeppelins, what with them being flammable and all.
Nevermind that for now! Tomorrow will be a brand new day!
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