History Section: The Butterfly Wars of 218
It was a beautiful and sunny day, the light glinting with an
ethereal beauty off the wings of countless butterflies, each one
another vicious, bloodthirsty creature, prepared to flap its way
to death or glory.
The butterflies had massed, their numbers legion, and would stop
at nothing less than the domination of sapience, or the destruction
of their mighty army. But we were not caught unprepared.
Our army gathered together, diverting our eyes from the brilliant aura
surrounding the butterfly force. Drawn from the forests and the cities,
from magic and nature, the magically-bred Giant Chickens stood side by
side with the mighty Basilisks, creatures of legendary hunger, and
eyes that could stop even a butterfly in mid-flap.
Humans, Trolls, Dwarves and Tsol'aa also risked their lives, desperate
to stop this horrific force, myself amongst them. The stage was set,
and as the sun reached its peak, the hoarde attacked.
We scored early victories as the Basilisks charged the Butterflies
front lines, flames flaring, jaws snapping, and butterflies rapidly
turning into lunch. The Giant Chickens flanked the Butterflies, out-
numbered flap for flap, but size proved the deciding factor, allowing
them to hold off the Butterfly advance for long enough, that Vellis
and his expertly trained team of Net-men could swoop in from behind,
routing the Butterflies, and condemning them to become another notch
on Vellis's personal Net. They were broken, and they knew it, the few
that escaped choosing to flee to the furtherest reaches of the lands,
hiding, even now, from Vellis and his agents.
And so ends the first Chapter of the Butterfly Wars, a conclusion of
sorts, but if the information that has recently come into my hands
is true, I fear it is not a true ending at all. May the Logos have
mercy for us all.

Rumours Section
I'd like to kick this off with a rumour I recently heard regarding
myself. It is, of course, completely incorrect, but I found it to
be amusing nonetheless.
It seems that prior to being named "Prophet", Thakren was involved in
a drinking contest with Averroes. Supposedly, if Thakren won, he would
be named Prophet, if he lost, he would publish an a retraction for the
recent article on the Morningstar that described him as an incompetant
fraud.
Meanwhile, a prominent Kharon guild Secretary who, for this time, we
shall refer to only as "Skar" to protect the identity of all involved,
is rumoured to be attempting to bribe one of Achaea's more famous authors
to destroy all copies of a book he is in the process of writing.
This "Skar" was also recently caught hiding out in a shop that he may or
may not own, with not one, but three different women, all of whom were
scantily dressed, to say the least, and displeased by my interruption.
Thats the last time I buy myrrh there.
A reliable source was recently.... exploring... the Chamber of Service
within the Basilica when two others entered, who, in order to protect
identities, we shall refer to only as "Brizzo" and "Redget". Unable to
leave without drawing attention to himself, he was trapped there for
the entire "Service". It was days befor I managed to draw this out of
him, even now, all he will do is roll around in obvious pain, mumbling
My eyes! Oh, Logos, my eyes!
Finally, the reason of the Tsol'teths escape attempt is rumoured to
be, rather than world domination and destruction, an attempt to get
to the newstands to read the latest copy of the Achaean Times. Thats
right, good reader, the newspaper preferred by 87% of all despotic
evil world-conquering depth-dwellers.

Its that time again, where you have to say goodbye to the Achaean
Times for another six months. However, for those of you who just
can't wait, there *is* a copy of "The Skarash Saga, Chapter One"
in circulation, and I urge you all to read it.
Next Issue, read the latest on the Butterfly Wars, learn the secret
of Epicurus, and find out how he loses all those backscratchers,
and of course, the latest on all Current events and mysteries as
they unfold. Till next issue, discriminating readers.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Scarlatan, in the year 247 AF.