The Badgerbrough Inquisitive (lore)

Graduating from the School of Badgerbrough was both a delightful and eagerly awaited day for Billobi, but it raised a question he never had given much thought before: what would he do with this new kind of freedom?

His dearest friend Tristan "Hum" Beadle had already signed on to the Acorn Afloat, the large sailing vessel that travelled the eastern sea, and Thomas Althorp had bought an old antiques shop in the town of Horsehead (much to his parents distress).

Should he pursue a deeper understanding for all the different types and manifestations of magic? Not according to his headmaster, who told both him and Thomas Althorp on the day of graduation to "never, ever, ever, try to practice what our poor teachers have tried to teach you! Not you two! Never, ever!"

Talking to his father didn't really satisfy his restless and curious soul: "You'll never be a baker, Bill, but anyone can carry a sack of flour! That's the job I can offer you. If you don't want to travel south and work on the farm with your cousin Hamphred..."

It was at this point in his life, when his hands yearned for pen and paper and his feet couldn't feel more restless, that the perfect job opportunity found him - literally. It was the current edition of The Badgerbrough Inquisitive that his father dropped on his face.

"Read it, Bill. They're hiring."

The Badgerbrough Inquisitive was one of the local gazettes, known for their quirky and not always so accurate news from around the country. Working for the paper was frowned upon, but for Billobi it was the opportunity of his lifetime.

Three days later he could entitle himself as an official writer for the Inquisitive. Not that it did impress anyone (except for Thomas Althorp), but it didn't matter. He would travel and he would write, and his first assignment ever was to seek out and interview a man with really large ears just outside of town. He couldn't be more excited.

Get your copy of the Badgerbrough Inquisitive here! (PDF, 0.5 MB).

It's licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Grammar Magic (lore)

Billobi sat alone in the attic, with a flickering candle as his only source of light. He reached down into the large, open trunk in front of him, and pulled out a small sheet of paper. Upon further inspection, he realised it was a fragment of youth, a reminder from a more naïve period of his life: it was from his school-days.

He dug deeper in the trunk and found the rest of the book from which the sheet came: a book of selected exercises to the course Grammar Magic. Skimming through it, vague memories of boring calculations and Hagberg models surfaced, but nothing more.


"Bill?" a warm voice from downstairs sounded. "Dear?"

"Up here", Billobi answered. "Attic."

"Just don't hit your head, dear. Again."

"I won't, Ana."

"My brother will be here any minute, just so you know."

"Yes, dear."

He returned to the small booklet, and read until he heard the front door open and close.

"Bill, dear? Thomas is here now."

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

He closed the book and returned it to the trunk, and managed to bump his head into the low ceiling before climbing down.

This little booklet is a piece of lore from the world of Rustfoot. If you ever went to the school of Badgerbrough to study magic - you have probably already read it!

It's licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Download it here (PDF, 110 Kb).

Mystery Egg (magic item)

The people living in the southern parts of the country were known for being self-sufficient and hard working. There was a steady flow of merchant caravans between nearly every larger settlement and these parts; crops and meat and what not, things that had grown in or fed off the rich and nutritious ground.

Hamphred Dungbeetle used to tell his younger cousin that what they didn't grow, they didn't need.

"Except for one thing", he added with a smile. "You know what that is, Bill?"

They all sat around the dinner table and ate a strange stew, a mixture of edible things not usually combinable. It was food experiment signed Billobi's father, who had spent the entire day shopping in the nearest town. As guests, he wanted to show his appreciation for the hospitality. It was unclear whether it worked.

Billobi shook his head, and said: "No, what?"

"A bathtub!" Hamphred started to laugh so hard the table moved a bit. "Did you know, Bill, I once dreamt I was farming bathtubs? It's true! They just grew right out of that soil, like gull flowers ready to be picked. Filled with water and everything..."

They finished their plates, and while Billobi's helped his parents cleared the table, a loud knock on the door called for Hamphred's attention. He walked over to the front door and opened it.

"Hello, dearest Sir", said a tiny voice, "I hope I am not interrupting anything." It came from a thin and small man, wearing rugged clothes and a small brown hat. He held onto a small cart with one hand. It was filled with all sorts of things.

"Only my digestion! What do you want? You're not selling anything are you?"

"Well, no..." the man said nervously and took off his hat with his free hand. "Not if you're not buying..."

Hamphred snorted, and said: "All right, show me your goods then. I don't have all season!"

"Very well, dearest Sir!"

The tiny man put on his hat and turned the cart around. When Hamphred took a step closer to look inside it, something growled at him.

"I'm sorry, dearest Sir", the tiny man said and patted the cart. "It's one of them faithful carts. Never mind it."

"Never heard of them", Hamphred said and took two steps back.

The tiny man started to browse through the debris on the cart.

"Maybe I can interest you in some...long, rusty pipes...? No? How about...some...bent nails? Also rusty? No? Well then, how about...this brown little...thing...that opens, and plays a melody? Listen! Isn't that the most beautiful... No? All right...how about..."

"Not interested in junk", Hamphred declared with a monotonous voice. "Have you tried selling it to them out-of-towners? They buy anything."

"Look at this beautiful egg!" the tiny man suddenly said and held up an enormous, spotted egg. "Food for days to come!"

"More like one breakfast", Hamphred said and inspected the egg. "Can't say I recognize it. What animal is this?"

"It's...a...bird! A big bird!"

"Really?"

The tiny man nodded, and said: "Absolutely, dearest Sir. Tastes wonderful. And for you...only two and sixty."

"Drop the two and you got yourself a deal, peddler."

"But that's...! It's huge! Two flat, no less."

"One flat, and I won't throw it after you."

The tiny man scratched his neck with his free hand, and said with a low voice: "Deal."

Coins and egg changed owner, and the tiny man disappeared into the clear night. The next morning, Hamphred relieved Billobi's father of all chores that involved cooking, and announced an all omelette breakfast outside. They gathered wood and made a fire just outside the house. The second largest frying pan was fetched from one of the barns and placed on the fire.

"And now", Hamphred declared solemnly with the large egg in his arms, "the big crack!"

He walked over to the fire and the sizzling frying pan, and while holding it firmly with his left arm over the pan, he punched it as hard he could with the other. It cracked into two halves immediately, but instead of the expected yolk and white, a tiny humanoid creature fell out and into the hot pan. Its skin were pale green and covered in warts. A long, crooked nose grew from its small face in a bent shape, and nearly punctuated its chest. It had a narrow tail instead of legs, much like a tadpole.


It screamed horribly as the hot oil burned away on its body. Unable to move away from the heat, it melted slowly. The screaming lasted only for a couple of seconds, and a minute later there wasn't more than a grey goo left in the pan.

"It's probably still better than that stew of yours", Hamphred told Billobi's father.

Mystery eggs are small, magical organs that feed on their surroundings. Much like mushrooms, they can be found everywhere. They start out as tiny, round balls, and grow as they "feed" on the immediate environment; it collects emotions, parts of magic, thoughts, shapes, languages, and everything else that is specific for the location, and stores this in its soft tissue. This is the first phase.

In the second phase, after being fed enough, they develop a hard shell that surrounds and protects the soft interior. The egg will not grow any more now, and goes into its third phase, in which it summarises the things stored in its tissue and converts it into something materially.

After the third phase is completed, the egg goes into a sort of hibernation. This is the final phase.

Mystery eggs are so called because of their gambling nature; you never know what to get since they have been known to materialise living things as well.

Music box (magic item)

The day that no one thought would ever come finally arrived on a hot summers day: the day when Billobi's good friend Thomas Althorp got married.

Graduation day was still fresh in their minds, a memory only a year old. All dressed up, a day as hot as this, their heads and hearts filled with plans and motivation, eager to get going. Thomas had bought an old shop in Horsehead, Billobi needed to travel the countryside, and Tristan had signed on to the Acorn Afloat to take him overseas. Naturally, all ceremonies follow the same universal speed, written in stone at the beginning of time, to make all formalities as tenacious as possible: the pace of a snail.

Billobi wiped the sweat from his forehead, and wondered why all ceremonies had to take place outdoors. He sat on a hard, white chair, and waited for the groom, much like everyone else. Long rows of white chairs were placed in front of a crudely built stage, which was decorated with flowers and hay. It swayed even at the slightest breeze. The priest, stationed in the middle of the stage, looked nervous.

"I just hope my boy remembered to buy her a gift!" whispered the women next to Billobi. It was Thomas Althorp's mother.

"Well, he's managed to keep his antique shop for a whole year now, so I wouldn't worry", Billobi whispered back with a smile.

"You've ever been to his shop, Bill?"

"Yes, but w...? Point taken, Mrs. Althorp."

Suddenly out of nowhere, Thomas came running, half-dressed. He jumped up on the stage and took place next to priest, finishing up on his tie and shirt. The stage waggled a bit, much to the enjoyment of the younger ones in the audience.

"Sorry!" Thomas said and waved to the rows of people. He tried to avoid his mother's gaze.

"Are we ready?" said the priest with a snooty, high pitched voice. When Thomas answered with a nod, three young girls from the front row got up on the stage, each carrying a small trumpet. As soon as the stage had stopped moving, they began to play.

"Let me present to you", said the priest and raised his arm slowly, "the bride!"

Everyone stood up, and to the horrible sound of untrained trumpeters battering their instruments, a women dressed in a beautiful green wedding gown walked up to the stage and took place next to Thomas. To everyone's delight, the three young girls stopped playing and returned to their seats.

"We have gathered here today, on this hot Horsehead day, to witness the completion of the union of the circle of the once broken lines of love and honesty that is the ritual that needs to be and wants to be fulfilled with the two formerly lost but now to be connected in the short infinity that we speak of and think of as life. Of love. In the circle. Of the union. And so on."

Billobi yawned. He could've sworn that his old headmaster said something similar a year ago.

"Shut that mouth of yours, Bill, or I'll put my fist in it", whispered Thomas mother to Billobi, who shut it promptly.

"But the circle in the union", the priest continued, "of the lines that was broken and shattered and lost but found and reunited and forged back together, cannot be all that if the two souls that are about to meet in the perimeter of the circle that is the union of honestly love don't participate in the lovely exchange that fulfils the contract. Of the union. Of love. In the circle. And so on."

The priest smiled and looked at Thomas, who smiled back.

"Great speech", said Thomas.

"As I said, the union of love that makes the circle complete needs its worldly exchange to take place."

"So?"

"So..." said the priest, clearly annoyed. "Do you have your part of the exchange?"

"Oh! You mean the gift!"

The priest smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I have it right here..."

As Thomas began to search his pockets for the gift, Billobi heard the words "He'd better!" leave Thomas mother's mouth.

"Here it is!"

Thomas pulled out a tiny box of metal and handed it over to his bride. The box was dark brown in colour but didn't have any other significant features, except for a small hinge on one side.

"How lovely", said the priest. "The groom have completed his part of the lovely exchange in the circle of the union..."

"Open it!" Thomas interrupted.

With great care his bride slowly opened up the tiny box into two equally sized parts, connected only by the hinge. The two parts looked identical, with a perforated lid covering their contents. A lovely melody immediately began to play.

"It's a music box", Thomas explained with great joy. "I knew from the day I first got it at the shop that it would make a perfect wedding gift!"

"It's wonderful", his bride responded. "I didn't know they made instruments that small."

"Oh, there's not a single instrument in there", Thomas said. "It's one of them old, genuine magical music boxes."

"Let me see that", the priest said and started to inspect the small box. After only a glimpse he immediately closed it, and bellowed: "You fool! Do you know what this is?"

"Yes, it's a magical music box", Thomas said. "A gift for my..."

"It's not a gift, it's a torture chamber! It's not a suitable gift for something as lovely as the union of the circle in which you two are about to enter! No, young man, your gift to this lovely bride will be the release of that poor soul - or, souls! - that are contained within this cursed and wretched piece of torment! Destroy it!"

"But..."

"Now! Pry the lid open and redeem your idiotic actions!"

The priest handed over the box to Thomas, who slowly opened it up as if he was expecting something to pop up. As soon as he did that the wonderful melody that played before spread yet again. It was a soothing and beautiful sound.

The thin, perforated lids broke under the pressure of Thomas thumb. In an instance, the music stopped. Peeking inside, the space under the lid was empty.

"You've cleared your mistake", the priest said and then turned to the bride. "And you?"

"Y-yes?", she answered, slightly shaken by the events.

"Do you still want to merry this idiot?"

Music boxes can be found all over the known world. They're small, brown and made out of thin metal. Once opened, they play a melody that depends on the soul captured within it.

These devices originates from a vicious group of people that experimented a great deal with music. Somehow, they found a way to extract the very life essence of beings and store it as music in various contraptions, such as the music box.

When opened, it begins torturing the captured soul to make it sound. By breaking or otherwise destroying the device the soul is released. Dealing with these kind of devices are generally considered unethical.

The melody depends entirely on the soul, and is said to be a summary of memories and emotions.

The Gardener (map)

Billobi's cousin Hamphred Dungbeetle sat as usual in the large bathtub stationed outside on his front lawn, with Billobi next to him in an old, water filled wagon. The day had been long and sweaty, but they always were in these southern parts of the country.

"Ev'ery problem has a solution", Hamphred said with a slow voice. "Hellish weather, heavenly bathing!"

Billobi nodded in agreement; helping out on the farm was everything but vacation, but it was better than school. He gently filled his cupped hand with the cool water and poured it over his face, pretending he was a living waterfall. Far away the sun was setting, as red as his cousin's nose during the annual eel feast. At least that's always what his father used to say; Billobi had never gotten a red nose after eating eel, so he assumed it had to do with a particular type of eel that only Hamphred ate.

"See that old man over there, shaped like a horseshoe?" asked Hamphred and pointed to the distance. "We call him the Gardener."

"Is he called that because he works as a gardener?" asked Billobi and squinted.

"Sort of! He got tricked by them burghers, sold him one of them aar-chi-teqs. Don't ask me how it's spelled! Some fancy word for a little worm that eats dirt."

"Why did he need to buy worms? I see plenty every day, and they all seem to eat dirt."

"As I said, Bill, them burghers fooled him with their fancy words. The gardener thought he'd came up with a brilliant plan: he would use them worms for digging himself a set of underground tunnels."

"What would he need tunnels for, Hamphred?"

"Well, for crops, obviously. Haven't you ever tasted pearl potatoes, those white, small things?"

Billobi couldn't remembered he'd ever did.

"Never? I need to talk to your parents, 'cause pearl potatoes are nothing but pure candy for your soul! Anyway, those potatoes loves dark places, and growing them in a underground tunnel is heaven for them - only upside down. Well, look here!"

The Gardener walked up to their bathtubs and waved lazily. He had a long, white beard and old clothes covered in dirt. His eyes were no bigger than two dots in his pale face.

"Good day, Hamphred. Another bath, yes?"

"Keeps me alive!" answered Hamphred and laughed. "Any news on those worms of yours?"

"No, no", said the Gardener, shaking his head as if he was answering himself as well, "no news. Well, maybe one: I found one of them dead, yes. So, yes, one news perhaps. One."

"That's good to hear, only one more to find then!"

"No, no, found him I did. Not the dead one, no, although I found him too. No the other one, he's the fattest I've seen. Lives in the furthest room. He spoke to me, yes."

"The worm...spoke to you?" asked Billobi.

"Yes, yes, spoke to me he did. No, not the dead one, he got to the size of dog, then he died. But the fattest, he's bigger than your outhouse, Hamphred. Two, perhaps. Grown tired of dirt, he said. He wants to eat real food now, yes. I fed him once, but now I've locked the three doors, yes."

"That's the spirit, let the monster starve", said Hamphred and washed his face.

"Yes, starve the fat architect. Shouldn't ever have gotten them, nope. Well, I need to get going now, got them cows on pasture so I'll better keep an eye out for them. Farewell."

The Gardener turned around and walked away with his bent body.

"Do you think the worm really spoke to him, Hamphred?" Billobi whispered excited.

"You never know, Bill. One time at the harvest feast I thought I heard an eel say something to me."

"Really? What did he say?"

"I never found out, 'cause I ate him before he'd talk himself out of it!" Hamphred said with a laughter.

Billobi turned his gaze toward the pink horizon; maybe it was the talkative eels that gave you a red nose?