Authors
Philosophizing Madmen
If Philosopher's Stone is an encyclopedia, then who are its authors? Those whose ink splattered hands scrawl down the knowledge within, hastily scratching the details of kingdoms, creatures, and philosophies? Jeremiah and Tom, of course. It is this pair who are visited by the muses of inspiration, who must then put down in words the land of Epicca in all its forms.
“Should we mention something about barminess?” This is Jeremiah - wait, scratch that, should that be in character? That might require implosion - for now just call him the architect of the site. On his shoulder sits a musie, a little fae of inspiration. It's sleeping now - they get tired fast, you know - but she has quiet a mouth on her when she wakes up. Creative in a sort of haphazard manner - she thinks herself a painter. Back to Jeremiah though, he doesn't talk much, but the question he asked is a good one. It reflects on the history of Pithia, when it wore another mask in another world...
“Bee Tea Tea Ess, wot?” That’s Tom, always with the pithy dialog. He has a gnome on his shoulder, quite short for a gnome in fact and extremely proud of it. It's a bit disgruntled, mirroring Tom's, who is probably upset because Jeremiah nicked a musie and so he ended up with a gnome. Not that he doesn’t like gnomes, mind you. BttS, though. An acronym, archaic perhaps - standing for Barmy to the Spire. A book, a place of the mind, now closed as Pithia makes the next chapter. The authors have moved on. It was a place of multiple planes, alien races, and the shine of blades. The fuzziness of Pithia was absent, but the philosophy, ah.
“Philosophy? Ah, philosophy?” I'm not quiet sure who said that, perhaps a passing cloud. The authors of Pithia might have more to say below, perhaps a bit more rambling, a quote, or simply the opinion of their musies - yes, we know, we won't make Tom's gnome put on a pair of wings, even if he would look silly.
Jeremiah Golden
About
Once upon a time, in a Gatehouse far, far away, there sat an ancient and utterly mad being who sat about all day drooling over the wonderful possibilities of shining spoons, mushrooms, and base-ten number systems. This creature began to draw spirals in the dust of its cell, and soon enough, ideas began to form. Boggling isn't it?
Ramblings
of the day, possibly.
Imagine a nice linen bed covered in pillows, with a Jeremiah relaxing and reading a book. Dressed in the normal assortment of shirt, trousers, feet with the correct amount of toes, a pair of glasses, and a grin. He's probably been resting there for probably ten minutes, and then - boom! A muse flutters about giggling, and a thought strikes. He leaps up, startled, and runs to his computer nearby. A thunderous barrage of typing, and another article pops into existence. Inspiration has struck, and he wells in the happy feeling of productivity. Then the hunt begins, find someone to show it to! But nobody is around, all fluttering about elsewhere. Time passes. He wanders about, looking under pillows, in cupboards, and even in the surrounding forest - where has the little muse gone?
Featured Article
Old Dame Gracie
A story of pure dialogue, as only Tom could pull off. I would of spent the whole time describing her slippers, probably. With little silver buttons, and pads so she could leave little snowflake patterns in the snow. But anyway, go read it, it has ann-arr-kisses in it!
Tom Bubul
About
Tom claims that he was born in the jungle and raised by bears, but those voyeurs familiar with his past works know that this is mostly false. Widdling away his life next to his river, Tom is a jolly sort who likes to read, draw, and dance. Yes, that's right, dance, and horribly so. He feels very strongly indeed about the height of gnomes, about the price of rice in China, about the literary works of HP Lovecraft, and about the music of Luke Francis Vibert.
Ramblings
of the month, probably
Well, it's the birthday today (the 28th of Jollybog). Whee! Cake and cookies and so on! It's been a long year (though no longer than any other year, I suppose, and a bit shorter in fact than any leap year), and it's been an extraordinarily fast summer. But, yeah, it's my birthday. The Epicca Project has been alive a bit over a year now, and Jer and I are finally about ready to smash the metaphorical wine bottle over the metaphorical ship. It's been a work of, well, a good combination of a lot of things. Love, nonsense, fluff, cranburry juice, Orbital, and so on. It's my birthday, and the wonderful progress the Epicca Project has made in this past year is my present.
Featured Article
Boggle Fever
This is a most serious subject and absolutely not funny at all! The premise of the Yellow Boggle began last October, when I actually had it. Jer did a lovely job portraying the silliness of it all in this fun little article, which is probably much more enjoyable for the many people it won't induce horrifying yellow flashbacks in.