"COME BACK!!!"

Chatterbox: Pudding's Place

"COME BACK!!!"

"COME BACK!!!" You cry tearfully as the dog wrenches his leash out of your hands. "COME BACK!!!" You yell again, soon realizing it's futile to yell any longer. That was your friend's uncle's friend's daughter's dog, and she had entrusted you complete care of him. You'd better start looking for him, then. As you call through the streets, you see a brown streak cross the road and head right for you! It's Marty! Except... what's that in his mouth?! It's the neighbor's cat! No, wait, it's just a cat-shaped note. Grabbing it, you unfurl it to see that it says,

Hello, person! You have been selected to come to our private farm for a relaxing, looong getaway from home. Don't bother signing in, just show up! Max visitors is 24; we'll close the gates when the quota is met. Pack your CAPTCHAs and AEs; we don't want to be bored, now do we? Just pack a few items, and your dog will show you the way! 

                Signed,

               Abigail V., Vacation Manager of the Resort Farm

P.S. We aren't responsible for any deaths, injuries, ect.

----------------------------------------------------

Uh-oh. You've heard of these before. Do you want to risk it? It certainly sounds relaxing, so it may be worth it... 

-----------------------

 

submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 30, 2015 - 8:36 am)

back to the Pudding's Place

Urgh...I meant to say that this thread has been alive since November 30, 2015.

submitted by Leafpool
(November 20, 2016 - 1:11 pm)
The farmer finished going over the plan with all the CBers. The CAPTCHAs were dismayed to find that they weren't allowed to go into the action.
"It's for your safety," the farmer's assistant had explained.
The three groups of CBers stood in the yard, awaiting the green light to begin their missions. 
Princess Icicle, Rufus, Elsa, and Turgon stood behind Puck, and Spyro's animals stood around them in a protective circle, ready for action.
Group One fanned out behind Moonfrost, Spyro, and Rosemary, and the specialty group had mounted their horses. (That's right, Spyro hadn't forgotten about the CBers' horses. He'd been counting on them for speed.)
"Ready, Chatterboxers?" asked the farmer.
The CBers nodded, and sped away, following the routes Puck had planned for them.
Good luck, the farmer thought. He, his assistant, and the stay-at-home CBers and CAPTCHAs turned back to the house and began readying the lumber.
The Specialty Group reached the barn in no time at all. Spyro's animals kept a close watch on their surroundings, and did surprisingly well keeping the horses and their riders surrounded in a safe circle.
"Almost there," Shadow hissed. "You know the routine!"
Dragonrider, Poetic Panda, and Booksy nodded hastily. As soon as they passed the breedery, they'd swerve behind the barn. Then they'd circle around and approach the door from the back of the barn.
"Uh-oh, animal sighting!"
The specialty group looked in the direction Poetic Panda was pointing. Two lions were pacing in the tall grass beyond the breedery. Their muscular forms slid through the foliage, methodically combing through the field. They were getting closer by the minute.
"Uh--it--behind--" stammered Booksy, fearfully sizing up two drooling wolves from behind them, which had been laying in wait among the unmanageable grass directly next to the house.
"That's not all we're up against," warned Shadow Dragon. A rattlesnake approached from the other side of the driveway, and a cobra had appeared in front of them. The group came to a standstill. They were surrounded on all sides by the murderer's strike force.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 
Puck kept her fort group running at a swift pace towards the forest. She'd been assigned to the woodland fort, and she intended to get as much done as possible before late afternoon.
According to her map, the sap trees were nearly in the middle of the woods. She looked at her compass, shrugged (she couldn't make heads or tails of it) and kept running.
When they arrived at the suffodio trees, the second fort group stopped with a jolt, a mere inch of space separating them from a sticky doom. Seven or so oozing, amber-colored pillars dominated the scene before them.
Encased in ten-foot-deep shell of hard sap and coated with a thin layer of moist, unimaginably sticky sap were the trees themselves. Combining the thickness of the trees and the thickness of the sap, Puck would have estimated that each mass was about twenty feet wide.
The smell of rot reached the noses of the CBers, and they noticed the mice and other unsavory pests and insects that had gotten stuck in the outer layer of sap. Slowly, the gooey excretement was encasing them, forever preserving them in a sugary shell.
Different colors of amber streaked the scene, pooling around at the base of the trees. Sunlight illuminated the insides of these pools, revealing yet more unfortunate creatures trapped within.
"PU!" shouted Princess Icicle, pinching her nose when the sickly sweet smell boiled into her lungs.
"That...is amazing," stated Elsa.
"How the heck are we going to get the leaves off these trees?" gaped Puck, staring at the thirty-foot-high canopy full of broad leaves laden with excess sap.
"We could send the birds up there..." suggested Turgon. His dragon nuzzled his arm. He'd named it Emerald, as it had taken on a bluish tinge after discovering sapphires were its favorite food. His reasoning made no sense, but that's what he chose. Emerald had grown quite a bit throughout the day, consuming enormous amounts of rocks and minerals as it came upon them. She was nearly three feet tall by then, and wanted a job.
"Emerald? Are you sure you want to go up there?"
Emerald nodded eagerly and flapped up into the canopy, eager to please her 'father'. Though her flight was still wobbly, she maneuvered with ease among the dripping leaves, slicing them off the trees with her razor talons and sticking them to the tip of her tail. Once she got the hang of it, Emerald was able to harvest the leaves at an incredibly fast speed. It only took ten minutes for Puck to decide that she'd gathered enough.
Weighed down by the very...er, weighty suffodio leaves, Emerald dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding landing on slowly spreading trickle of sap. She plucked the leaves off of her tail and thrust them into Puck's hands, who held them gingerly so as to not glue her fingers together. Puck dropped the load into the saddlebags of the CBers' horses, filling four and a half of them.
Emerald turned around and quickly scraped away some fresh sap off the pool of hard sap until she reached amber. Looking up innocently all the while, she scarfed up about a pound before licking her lips, satisfied.
"Okay, Emerald, there's no time for eating lunch!" rushed Puck, who jumped on her horse. The others did the same, and they galloped off to the site where a fort would soon be constructed.
At the same time the Specialty Group sent out an urgent falcon message, Moonfrost declared her group one third of the way to their destination.
"We're ten minutes in, guys!"
Her comrades cheered unenthusiastically. Their thoughts were on the topics of staying safe, not 'are we almost there yet'.
"Well, we'll get there in half the time with our horses!"
Moonfrost urged everyone to pick up the pace. Spyro whistled the speed command to their horses, so the CBers had no choice but to hang on tight and go with the flow.
"A falcon!" cried Spyro. The alarm llama was spitting into the air, signaling something was there.
The ATU captain whistled for the falcon to come down, and it did so with great speed. Jostled by his galloping horse, Spyro eventually was able to untie the frantic message off of the jiggling bird. No, please don't be trouble...
  'dander by the breedery hurry pls help, how u not see m??--SD'
It took Spyro a few moments to realize that 'dander' meant 'danger'. He shifted uneasily. "The Specialty Group is in danger. Bicorns, go help them, and take this komodo dragon with you."
His animals bounded off without hesitation, and Spyro flung the falcon back into the air, where it led the way to the Specialty Group.
The remaining animals that paraded around the CBers were on high alert from then on, all the way up until they reached their destination.
"Here comes help!" shouted Shadow Dragon. She was carrying Dragonrider on her back, but was rapidly loosing altitude. Panda and Booksy had stayed down, organizing a protective circle of guardian animals around them. The SG's bicorns had already immobilized the two snakes, but the four predatory species weren't backing down.
When the wolves heard the angry snorts of two more bicorns, they were temporarily distracted. Unfortunately, the defenders' creatures were also caught off guard, and the enemy lions (who had more practice hunting) decided to utilize that moment of weakness to take down the largest bicorn.
Thrashing its kelp-green mane, the two-horned unicorn reared up and let out a shriek. Blood dripped down its sides, the color of lake water. Both lions had clamped their teeth into it, and it attempted to gallop away to throw them off.
The two helping bicorns tore across the cement and confronted the startled wolves. They leapt up and brought their knife-sharp hooves down with great force, sending the wolves away yipping.
The poor bicorn with the lions on it had collapsed not too far away. The lions, however, were not interested in eating it, and had begun to prowl back to the CBers.
The komodo dragon, sensing danger, slithered up behind them. The lions briefly glanced back at it, but dismissed it as zero threat.
Unfortunately for the lions, Spyro had been reading about the poisonous qualities of komodo dragon saliva. He'd researched many methods for boosting the lethal bacteria in his komodo's spit--and yes, he had added his own little twist to the recipe.
The first lion felt a small pinch on his rear. The small pinch quickly turned into an insanely strong grip, and a basketball-sized head was soon firmly attatched to his back thigh.
The big feline tried shaking the lizard off, but its leg had stopped working. Slowly, numbingly, the paralysis worked its way through the lion's body.
Mr. Komodo Dragon unclenched his jaw and darted for the other lion, who had targeted Boosky Owly. But the huge lizard was too slow, and too far away now, to be of any assistance.
Booksy, atop her horse, was helpless but to watch as the last remaining lion inched closer. You can't just outrun a lion! she told herself. To run would mean certain death.
Poetic Panda was stranded on the sidelines. She didn't dare interfere with the lion's hunt. Her horse had been bitten by the cobra and was lying on its side, panting as the venom coursed through its body. The CBer couldn't have even been able to reach her friend in time to interfere.
Time slowed, as it always does when something horrible is about to happen.
Poetic Panda wanted to scream, but no sound would come out of her mouth. Shadow Dragon was their only hope, but the CBette flying abover her seemed to be stiff with anxiety as well.
"Sh--Shadow Dragon! GET IT!"
Too late! The lion shook its haunches and pounced.
But Shadow Dragon had understood the words before she even knew she'd heard them, and tucked her wings in for a dive. Dragonrider was unprepared for such a sudden move and tumbled off her friend's back, hitting the pavement with a sickening crack.
The lion yowled in surprise, its eyes wide, as it was clenched by fierce and angry talons. Shadow hurled it right over the breedery's roof, behind which it landed with a dull thud.
The other animal entourage surrounding the CBers had disappeared. So much for loyal defenders.
But the short battle was over.
Poetic Panda surveyed the damage. Tufts of fur litterd the driveway. Claw marks scored the cement. The grass was torn up on either side of the driveway, and the bicorn that had been assaulted by the lions lay, unmoving on the green. The other three bicorns sniffed it solemnly, and Panda realized that it was still breathing--just barely.
The bicorns then returned to Boosky, where the komodo dragon and messenger falcon were waiting for more orders.
The murderer's attackers were either gone or immobilized.
Dragonrider sat up; thankfully nothing was broken, but a nasty lump was forming on her head.
Dragonrider whistled in awe. "We're alive," she said gratefully.
"Thanks to Spyro," Shadow Dragon reminded her.
"The bicorn!"
Booksy leapt off her horse to comfort the poor beast. Its wounds were pretty serious. "How can we--AAAAAAH!" 
The wolves! They had come back somehow! They hurtled at full speed towards Booksy! But--they launched into the air and, in perfect synchronization, jumped clear over the CBer and the bicorn. Their eyes locked onto Panda's.
Three seconds--that's all the hesitation it would've taken for Panda to become lion dinner. But the CBer didn't hesitate, and she crouched low, remembering all the training she'd received. Three feet, two feet, five inches...She sprang! Cartwheeled in the air, over the rabid animals, and landed on the ground in the 'ready' position, as the farmer had called it.
When the canines clumsily changed directions, Panda punched them on the noses and ran the other way, nodding to Shadow Dragon.
Shadow calmly intercepted the wolves' path, arching her eyebrows down at them. They backed away nervously. "There, there," she rumbled. "Let's get you settled."
By 'settled', she of course meant 'thrown over the breedery'. Well, at least she did it gently. They must've woken up the lion on their way down, and the trio of enemies limped off as fast as they could.
"Let's just hurry up and get out of here!" Dragonrider cried.
Booksy hopped on her horse, Dragonrider continued riding Shadow Dragon, and Poetic Panda mounted a bicorn. "We'll tend to the injured when we get back...?"
"Rosemary can tend to them. We'll send a message to Spyro again."
Dragonrider scribbled the new message while the Specialty Group hobbled on their way to the barn.
submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 24, 2016 - 9:32 am)

Did I just almost die... Twice? Gosh, you had me with that suspence.

submitted by Booksy Owly
(November 26, 2016 - 3:19 am)
submitted by TOP TOP TOP!
(November 25, 2016 - 8:57 am)
submitted by Ugh Plz Top
(November 25, 2016 - 5:35 pm)

I love cats! I love every kind of cat! I just wanna hug all of them, but I can't! Can't hug every cat! *Da da, da-da!*  I'm sorry, I'm thinking about CATS again! And again! And again and again and again and again! I think about how many don't have--a home...and how I should HAVE THEM! *Da da, da-da!* I think about how cute they are! And their E--ARS! AND THE WHISKERS and THE NO-OSE!!!!! I JUST LOVE THEM. AND I WANT THEM. AND I WANT THEM IN A BASKET! AND I WANT LITTLE BOWTIES! I just love them, and I want them, to be on a RAINbow and in my BED, and I just want us--to roll all around! To roll all around! Round! ROUND! Round.

That was random...XD

submitted by And Again, age And Again, And Again
(November 25, 2016 - 5:40 pm)
The rest of the day passed uneventfully for the fort groups. Puck's group sent a GIANT load of loveleaves (she couldn't help giving them their own name...'Loveleaves'--because they were so sappy!) to the first fort group until they had to send her a falcon saying 'We had to built a retaining wall just to keep these leaves from crushing us--I think we're...well-stocked now!'
Both forts made great progress on their buildings--even though the specialty group (for some reason) never started delivering wood (a squad of workers did instead). Puck, naturally, did most of the building for her team, and the fort was actually finished before it was supposed to be. She had time to add a sink, an upstairs, a toilet, a fridge (don't ask how), a few bunk beds, and still make sure the structure was sound. She also put in a few defense mechanisms, like a small moat and drawbridge.
"Well, folks! I think we're done here!"
Princess Icicle, Rufus, Elsa, Turgon, and Emerald gaped at the fancy green building that had sprung up in no time at all. Had it really only taken three hours to make???
"Let's go help the other guys!"
The CBers barely had time to say 'ok' before Puck was on her horse and dashing away.
After Puck got through with the Fort Group No. 1's stash of leaves and wood, the building was as thick as a rhino's hide and as strong as an elephant's leg bone. 
The enormous electric fence was just on the other side of a small, mossy hill, if that gives you any indication to how close to the edge of the farm the CBers were.
The fort itself was set off to the side, maybe a hundred feet, of the driveway. The CBers remembered running past that spot in their first fifteen minutes of being there. Since there was the forest on the other side of the driveway and a small grove of trees circling the fort from a short distance away, shade-loving plants sprouted and gave the enclave a soft, cushioned feel. The CBers hoped that no battles would be fought there, in concern for the beautiful greenery.
Since the CBers and AEs had all been working together, the project had taken a little less time to build than the other fort. When Puck finally declared it finished, they stepped back to admire their handywork.
The fort blended quite well with the clearing; the layered orange-tinted loveleaves made the fort look like an elven structure. Even the inside was nature-y! Equipped with a rustic kitchenette, a small living/dining room (free leaf couches included!), a bedroom loft with handmade bunk beds, shaggy grass rugs in every room, and a pretty nice bathroom, it was all made of natural resources! The shape reminded Princess Icicle of a ginormous egg.
Since the CBers and AEs had all been working together, it had taken a little less time to build than the other fort. When Puck finally declared it finished, they stepped back to admire their handywork.
"Wow, Puck, you really outdid yourself!" Moonfrost complimented her, glad they were finally done. "I'm glad you came to help us..."
"DARN! I TOTALLY forgot about the DEFENSES!" Puck shouted, interrupting Moonfrost. "Back to work. We'll need a moat, and a drawbridge..."
Forty-five minutes later, the fort was finished. Now, it had a moat, a drawbridge, a spiky wooden/stone wall around it, and a few little traps...
"Well, what do we do now?" asked Over the Rainbow.
Puck knew what she wanted to do. "Build the last fort, of course!!!"
"Well--" Rosemary started. She was interrupted by a flapping noise coming from up the driveway. The farmer's assistant, in griffin form, approached--very, very, quickly.
She tumbled head over heels and Joss and Turgon had to jump out of her way before they got trampled. Transforming to human, she relayed an important message.
"The Specialty Group ran into some trouble," she panted.
"We know," Moonfrost said. "They sent us two letters. One asking for help, one telling us the outcome of the battle."
"Yes, they told us. But, uh, there's different news...good news and bad news. The good news is, you can all use your armor now! The bad news is--"
"--the prisoners escaped," Rufus guessed.
"Yes. The murderer got them ALL out somehow. So...Do you want to recollect at the house and take a break? That's a...wow, a very nice fort you've built. Wonderful job!"
"No! We can't stop!" shouted Puck. She was enjoying herself, yes, but she was still hollow with grief from the traumatic death of her CBer, Joan. She was filling that hole by avenging Joan--by contributing to the war--by helping the CBers stay safe. Their safety was in her hands. She couldn't let herself fail.
But Puck was outvoted by her weary companions, and they all began the LOOOOOOOOOOONG trek back up to castle-house.
The Specialty Group waited in the living room, physically--and emotionally--exhausted.
The farmer had allowed them a rest while he and a few workers shuttled the injured animals back to the cellar for treatment.
As the time went from twelve o'clock to two-thirty, from three-twenty to four, the S.G. did little more than roll over or switch a more comfy spot on the couches.
The farmer opened the door around four with a clatter. Dragonrider awoke with a jolt and glimpsed the farmer and the stay-at-home CBers bringing in a few...gauntlets! All different sizes, shiny and new, they looked like they were straight out of a mideval book! They set them gently on the dining room table and tiptoed back outside. Dragonrider closed her eyes again and knew that their precious break was almost over.
Ten minutes later, the CBers finished their ride up to the house and clammored into the entry hall. "We're HOME!" Rufus shouted.
"Yeah...we can TELL!" retorted Shadow Dragon grumpily, hauling herself off the couch.
"Have a nice break?" asked Princess Icicle.
"Hah. We weren't breaking, we were recovering from a traumatic experience."
The CBers all met in the dining room. The gauntlets had disappeared, and the table was clear. Everyone took a seat; it was better than standing.
"What do we do now? The farmer got our armor; where is it?"
Mortifero nearly choked on her gum. "Turgon, don't sound so excited! Do you know how heavy armor is? Trust me, you do NOT want to wear--"
"Well, Ms. Mortifero, have you ever worn armor before?" Rufus interrupted.
"Have YOU ev--"
"The armor? It's out back," supplied the farmer's assistant. She had just come in after stabling the CBers' horses. "He'll come get you when he's done organizing it. How about I make you all a snack while you wait?"
The CBers were thus left alone.
"Well, Cappy, how did you like being a guard?" asked Joss. The CAPTCHAs had been feeling a little left out lately.
"Bord," Cappy stated glumly.
"Vare," Dolphin agreed. "Eswh."
"Well, how are the forts going?" wondered Booksy Owly.
"Oh, you know. Fine," said Puck offhandedly.
"Hah. Don't believe her. I was there for BOTH and they're EPIC!" Turgon shouted.
"An AE's dream," added Moonfrost knowingly.
Emerald squeaked at Turgon. Now the size of a really big couch cushion, the dragonet had gone from lap-lizard to mini garbage disposal in just a few short hours. She'd eat anything--dirt, gravel, table scraps...snail slime. She was always hungry.
"Here you go, Emerald," Turgon cooed, and tossed her a chunk of marble from the pile by his chair.
The farmer's assistant soon returned with three large platters of food, the first one including sliced kiwi, mangoes, apples, bananas, oranges, grapes, persimmons, peaches, plums, and nectarines. Another plate featured bowls of peanut butter, caramel, melted chocolate, marshmallow sauce, salsa, and several different piles of assorted chips, crackers, and candy. The third plate had cheese sandwiches and condiments to put inside them.
The food disappeared in a matter of minutes! Shortly thereafter, the farmer came into the dining room and told everyone that the armor was ready for fitting.
Out back, worker stood with a stand of full armor and a label with a CBer or AE's name on it.
As each CBer found their armor stand, they noticed that though each set was custom made to fit them, they all had the same components, and every one of them had a cricket emblem on the breastplate and shield.
"The sign of the Chatterbox," the farmer had explained.
First, a worker slipped on the leather padding that would keep the armor from digging into their skin. (The farmer had called it an aketon.) Next, each CBer was put in a chainmail shirt. Their armor was then put on in stages: First, the gauntlets and the arm armor, brilliant plated works of art inlaid with black crystals and outlined in gold, were secured on each CBer. Then, the leg armor was slid on, held together by the kneecap guard that was fastened with a soft leather strap. The chainmail skirt and, finally, the breastplate, which was extremely light and extremely beautiful, were connected after being put on with leather loops and strings. The two shoulder plates came last, completing the perfect defense.
The Cbers were most taken with Shadow Dragon's armor. Giant ebony metal plates polished and inlaid with gems and gold (just like the others' armor) ran down her back and all the way to her tail, where a harpoonlike weapon was strapped to the tip. Her spikes were topped with jagged metal caps and her arms and feet had been sharpified as well. Her helmet covered the top of her face, but not her jaw, in case she needed to say something while in battle.
The CBers then put on their own helmets and proceeded to walk around trying to guess who was who, because in full armor, everyone except Spyro and Shadow looked the exact same.
Joss was admiring Over the Rainbow's (well, she thought she was talking to Over the Rainbow) beautiful Cricket emblem on her breastplate.
"Well," the CBer said in Moonfrost's voice, "you have one too, you know."
Joss was glad that her helmet concealed her blushing. "Yeah, we all do, but it's so beautiful. Why make something so beautiful for something so awful as war?"
"I'm aghast, Joss!" said another suit of armor that had walked up suddenly. The voice inside the armor was obviously Princess Icicle's. "You ALWAYS need to look your best!"
"Yeah, sure, Icy. Um, I think I just saw--I mean, heard--someone, like, insult your armor or something."
After Icicle had scrambled off, the two CBers went back to talking. "I'm amazed at how light this stuff is."
"Yeah, even I have no idea what it's made out of. I've never seen such black metal. Or crystals," Moonfrost said.
Just then the farmer climbed onto the stage in the middle of the backyard. "CBers, this was just a fitting. We're going to take off your armor now and we'll put it back whenever we go to battle. Okay?"
With reluctance, the CBers allowed their armor to be removed. The farmer's assistant ushered them back inside, where they all sat at the meeting table.
"Ugh," Gwen sighed. "I hate to say this to you, Elsa, but...You really have to tell Princess Icicle about the state of her hair."
Elsa raised her eyebrows and looked warily at Princess Icicle. "Why don't you tell her!"
"Not my job. You're closer anyway."
"Aw, you bunch of babies," Mortifero interrupted. "You need someone like me to do such a brave act. So why don't you ask Spyro to do it?"
"Mr. Important? Sure."
Spyro heard his name (Mr. Important) and looked expectantly at Gwen and Mortif. "Yes?"
"Icy there wants to know about her helmet head!" Gwen whispered.
Spyro grinned. "Hey, Princess Icicle. You shouldn't have spent all that time on that elaborate bun this morning. It's been through leaves, sticks, sap, and now, a helmet."
Princess Icicle whipped out a mirror and shrieked, but before she could finish her cry of terror, the farmer walked in and shushed her.
"The time is 5:57 pm," he announced. "Our status: Two out of three forts completed. We have three hours before the sun goes down. And I have something to say."
The CBers quieted, sensing an important speech.
"You have fought valiantly against whom you call 'the murderer'. Even sacraficing your lives for the cause. But the gates to the farm aren't glued shut. I think it's safe to say you aren't having a relaxing vacation anymore. You could have always left, gone back to the Chatterbox. But you haven't. You haven't even suggested leaving."
The farmer paused, letting his words sink in. The CBers once again felt that nagging thought squirming inside, but this time, it surfaced. Poetic Panda was the first to recognize it.
"We've been fighting, when we could've run away. And I think we all knew that, deep down, we had the choice to leave. But we stayed. Stayed to protect the farm. And the farmer's assistant. And the farmer. We stayed, whether it was to take responsibility for what one of our own has done, or to protect what we love. Or both."
"I'm giving you a chance, though," said the farmer. "So you don't regret your decisions. I'm giving you the chance to leave; to head for safety--or to stay, and possibly die. I won't judge you, whatever path you choose."
The CBers looked at each other. This was an enormous decision. Would they stay? Would they leave? Even the AEs were somber as they discussed their future. A future of fighting? Or a future of guaranteed safety? It was horrible--they wanted to leave, to return to the Chatterbox while they still could. But they had come to love the farm. If they left, the murderer's animals would destroy it! They felt that they were responible for the CBer or AE that was destroying the farm. But if they left...
Poetic Panda stood. "Sir, I think I speak for all of us when I say this...We're staying. We've known this in our hearts ever since the first attack. We're no longer on vacation. We're on a mission."
The farmer nodded.
"But we've decided that it's too dangerous here for the CAPTCHAs...As much as it pains us to say goodbye, we've decided to send the CAPTCHAs back to the Chatterbox."
Dolphin, Ookz, Cappy, and Toto were close to tears. They didn't want to leave, but they knew it was for the best. They were easy targets for hungry lions, and Chip and Holly's deaths had rattled them to the core, no matter how much they didn't want to admit it.
"Is that your final decision?"
The CBers and AEs all nodded.
"Then we will send them out as soon as we can. Say your goodbyes. We'll be leaving in fifteen minutes."
At first the table was silent, but after the farmer left the CBers began hugging their CAPTCHAs goodbye.
"Dwnl!!!!" Cappy wailed.
"I know, Cappy," Joss sniffed. "But...but I can't lose you."
"Bbye, Spyo!" Dolphin chirped. She certainly wanted to stay, but she wasn't too worried about leaving Spyro. He could take care of himself.
Ookz was in Critic A's lap, saying his goodbyes and getting extra cuddles.
Toto and OtR were locked in an embrace over in the corner.
The farmer's assistant hugged each CAPTCHA as well.
Fifteen minutes passed and the CBers were finally ready to begin the parade down to the barn.
At the farmer's insistence, everyone put on their armor, the CAPTCHAs gathered any keepsakes from the house that they wanted to take home with them, Spyro rounded up what was left of his trained animal guards, and they all started the procession from the house to the barn.
When they finally made it to the fence, the farmer transformed back into a centaur and cast an opening spell on one of the two gates. The CBers watched as the CAPTCHAs slowly filed through the gap. (Spyro actually set Dolphin's tank on the other side, since she couldn't really walk, being a dolphin and all.)
The CAPTCHAs stared at the CBers silently, tears welling up in their eyes. The CBers looked at the farmer pleadingly, wordlessly asking him to close the gates again before they changed their minds. This was for the best. The farmer waved his hands and the gates magically closed.
"Goodbye," said the CBers.
"Gbye," the CAPTCHAs cried.
One by one, they disappeared in a sparkly haze. Back to the CB. Safe.
"We'll be back...someday," Poetic Panda whispered after them.
They all stood in silence for a few moments, when all of a sudden the farmer's assistant whipped her head up, a worried expression on her face.
"Oh my gosh. Turgon," she hissed. "I need one of Emerald's scales. Now."
Turgon flailed his arms in confusion until the farmer's assistant assistant went and just grabbed a scale off Emerald herself. Grasping it in her palm, the farmer's assistant closed her eyes and muttered a swift spell under her breath. When she opened her eyes they were glowing white.
The farmer's assistant turned around as if she were looking at something much more distant than her current surroundings. As she searched, her face grew more and more impassive, masking her emotions.
Even the farmer held his breath.
"Oh my...No! Not my antique cutting board! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" The farmer's assistant was spinning like a top and making comments about random things like fine china and hardwoods.
Finally, she blinked and her eyes were normal again. Emerald rubbed her side, shooting an annoyed look at the person who had torn off one of her scales and hadn't even bothered to apologize.
"I...have some bad--no, horrible--news."
"What? What is it?" asked the CBers.
"The house. It has been...overtaken."
The group gasped. "Overtaken!?!?!?!!" Rufus shouted. "By WHO?"
"The murderer, of course. They just did it."
"Did you see who it was?" Booksy asked hopefully.
"No, they only sent their animals. The door's been ripped down. There are animals inside. The lions were ripping up ALL my dishes. And the couches. And deer trampling the carpets. And birds pooping on the TV."
"How'd you know to look?" Mortifero and Gwen wondered, suspicious.
"There are certain...spells placed on the house that alert me, or the farmer (depending on who cast it) when someone enters uninvited. Or, you know, does anything else that we don't approve of. There's a spell for anything these days."
"All of our stuff is in that house! All the ANIMALS were in that house!" realized Spyro. "At least we had our armor with us. But--poor General Firecracker."
"CBers, this war has taken a turn for the worst. We should never have left the house unguarded, but alas, what's done is done. We have our horses, our armor, our remaining animal bodyguards, and three forts. The third fort is the barn itself; we will apply a magical lock to it that only allows my assistant and I to go inside. We will formulate a plan later, but right now we need to rush to defend both forts before the murderer snatches them as well."
The CBers split up like peas in a soup and shot off as fast as they could go, with the farmer leading half the CBers to the biggest fort, and the assistant leading the others to the other fort.
---------------
Later that night, after the CBers were settled in the barracks of their handcrafted forts and eating fresh mushroom stew, a band of eleven workers arrived, breathless, at the door to the driveway fort. They were given food and rest, and then sent out to bring the CBers from the woodland fort back to the main one.
The farmer's assistant held a brief conversation with the head worker and then called the CBers outside.
"These workers will hold down the fort for us until we need to come again. We're going to leave our bodyguards here to guard the fort, so we need to get to the farmer VERY quickly," she explained.
The CBers jumped on their horses and galloped back the way they came. All without a word. It seemed as though the CBers would be tested quite a bit to see just how loyal they were to this farm...and everything in it.
The CBers fought to keep their eyes open as the farmer called a late-night meeting. They sat around the meeting table, picking at the rough surface, while the farmer told them just how serious their situation was.
Is this really necessary? Elsa wondered. We already know how awful this is. No need to keep saying it and saying it.
"Thankfully," the farmer finished, "the door to my room was locked when I left. Yes, the book characters within will soon be panicking and wreaking havoc, at least until I am able to return and restore peace. The murderer still does not have any major advantage over us, other than a newer, larger base. Now, I have something very important to announce.
"It is time to appoint a CBer general. Someone who will work with me to formulate plans; someone to hold the position of leadership. I already have a CBer in mind to suggest. If I may, I nominate Poetic Panda for the position of CBer general!"
Poetic Panda blushed. The other CBers and AEs gawked at her.
"Now is the time to nominate other CBers, and then we shall vote on the new general. You can nominate yourself if you so wish."
Nobody spoke. The farmer was surprised. "Then it is unanimous--Poetic Panda is the new CBer general! Congratulations and my deepest respects."
As the CBers applauded Poetic Panda, the farmer produced a shining medalion with a straw-colored tassel hanging from it. "Your badge," he said, pinning it to the CBette's shirt.
"We will meet in the morning, everyone. For now, get some sleep."
The farmer beckoned Turgon and Emerald over. "Emerald doesn't have access to any of the gems she produced during hatching. I think we all know that she'll be getting hungry any minute now, so if you need to let her dig for something to eat, you may do so by the fireplace. If she finds any coal, stick it on the hearth for me. We'll be cooking the old fashioned way from now on."
Turgon nodded and led Emerald over to the right side of the fireplace, where the remnants of the dinnertime fire were twinkling away. The farmer and the farmer's assistant sat at the dinner table and quietly talked long after Turgon had retired to the bunks. They eventually hopped onto the couches and fell fast asleep until morning.
submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 25, 2016 - 8:40 pm)

Wow. . . just wow. THIS IS SO AMAZING!!!! 

(Even though I am dead, I am glad to see Puck survived me. :) I love the term "CBette", and the whole story just flows really nicely! 

Great job!!  

Puck: Wow. Just wow. You are portraying me beautifully; thank you so much!!!

I also ADORE my position/job!

 

submitted by Joan B. of Arc, age 14, Camelot
(November 25, 2016 - 10:14 pm)

Thanks, Joan! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!

submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 28, 2016 - 8:47 pm)

Long post!

Day 13--

The sun trickled through the chimney, barely lighting up the interior of the egg-shaped fort. No one had woken up yet, save for Emerald, who was deep inside her hole looking for breakfast.

The living-room area was dark and quiet, except for the farmer's gentle snores that echoed throughout the downstairs. The loft was dark as well, the CBers' bodies nothing more than shapless lumps sprawled out on the bunks.

Suddenly Poetic Panda sat up, breathing hard. Something was wrong. The farmer's snoring had quieted and Emerald's rustling had stopped.

A chill ran down Poetic Panda's spine. Her friends were still. Almost too still. A growing apprehension forced her out of bed.

Everything was so quiet. Just a peek, she told herself. Just one look. They're fine. I'm just imagining things.

She pulled the covers off of Booky Owly's bed and before she could make sure Booksy was okay, her friend disappeared.

Panda let out a strangled gasp and turned to Spyro's bed. As soon as she touched the covers, the lump underneath vanished and the blanket fell against the mattress, cold and empty.

The CBette turned around and found that all the CBers were gone from their beds.

Poetic Panda climbed down from the loft in a panic. This is just some kind of prank, she told herself.

Nobody was downstairs. Wait! The farmer! He wouldn't leave without me.

Panda made her way through the clods of dirt Emerald had left. The faint light glowing from the fireplace seemed cold as she passed by it.

The couches were shrouded in shadow. Fearfully, Poetic Panda looked over the back of the farmer's couch. Oh, good. He's here.

But when she reached down to touch him, his body was like ice. Hard and cold. Lifeless.

She shrieked and fell backwards, only to find herself staring up at a dark figure that had stepped out of the shadows.

"Poetic Panda," it said. The CBer couldn't see its face but she knew somehow that it was a girl. "I will get you. I will get you, but I will save the others first. Then you will die."

Poetic Panda's body siezed up as the figure disappeared. Her shoulders started shaking as the scene faded.

"Panda...Panda...WAKE UP!"

Poetic Panda shot up and knocked heads with Dragonrider. CRAK!

"Ow!" Dragonrider yelped, stumbling back and rubbing her head. "She's awake."

Panda found herself covered in sweat from the nightmare. She was grateful to find that this time, she was really awake, and that sunlight was shining through an open door. She could hear CBers bustling around below the loft. The CBette stretched and went down to join them.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," said the farmer's assistant.

"I had a horrible nightmare last night," Panda said.

"Oh, no! Well, some delicious breakfast will make you better."

Booksy and Rufus walked in through the door with their arms full of carrots.

"Carrots? For breakfast?"

The farmer's assistant ran over to help the two CBers with their load. "Oh, no," she called back to Poetic Panda. "We aren't going to eat carrots for breakfast!"

Panda wanted to know what exactly the carrots were for, then, but she decided to wait and see.

The farmer's assistant dumped the carrots on the table. "You might want to stand back," she suggested. Panda stood at the opposite side of the table.

The farmer's assistant turned to the carrots and stared at the carrots intensely.

Just when Poetic Panda thought the carrots would win the staring contest, they swelled in size and became light and fluffy. They curled up inside themselves and the carrotops melted, dripping down the pile of fresh carroty buns.

"Cinnamon buns!" Poetic Panda exclaimed.

"Yep. Carrot-cake flavored!"

"Cool."

"Why don't you go join some of the CBers in their morning activities? It'll take your mind off things."

The farmer was talking with some AEs in the living room area, and a few CBers were up in the loft making beds. The rest were either practicing outside with their weapons or sweeping some stray dirt back into Emerald's new mine.

Panda decided to practice with her weapon in the front of the fort. Meanwhile, the farmer finished up his conversation with the AEs.

"Well, that sounds very interesting, Mortifero and Gwen, but I think we should save that story for another time. I've got to go find Poetic Panda so we can plan this morning's meeting."

He made a hasty escape from the AEs.

--------------

Poetic Panda and the farmer finished their discussion just in time for breakfast. While they had planned, the farmer's assistant had tested her magical cooking abilities to their limits, creating bagels out of pinecones and cream cheese out of a ball of roots, fried eggs out of leaves, sausages from sticks and doughnuts from lumps of clay.

At first the CBers weren't too sure about this makeshift breakfast, but after Spyro ate all the doughnuts they decided they should get in on the action before the food was all gone.

"Now, I thought we were going to be cooking the old fashioned way," said the farmer as he chewed on a particularly chewy sausage.

"Oh, you centaurs and your classic cooking. You can feel free to cook a lunch big enough for all these people. I'm just going to stick with magic."

The farmer shook his head. "I guess you're right."

"Plus, someone has to fulfill your junk food cravings!"

The farmer blushed a bit.

"Shall we begin the meeting?" Poetic Panda asked after everyone had finished serving themselves.

"Go ahead," said the farmer.

Panda stood up. "So, the farmer and I were talking this morning and we've decided to bring the Nocte Fictiles out from the mine and let them help us. Turgon, Emerald is bigger than a horse now and it's time for her training to begin. The jumbled mix of other species that we still have will remain our bodyguards. Now, we know that the murderer's strength comes from her army of fierce animals. If we can do something to take them down in numbers, that would be great. I already have something in mind..."

The farmer took up the rest of the speech. "I want Poetic Panda and the Strategists to quickly organize a mission to retrieve ten dragons this morning, ten at lunch, and ten tonight. As the dragons come in the CBers who stay will get them in their spots and Spyro and I will check them out. Remember that my assistant has the most authority over the dragons when making your plans. Any questions?"

"Yes," said Turgon. "How are you going to train dragons? They're already good fighters."

"Well, it's mainly up to Spyro, but if it were me, I'd tell them the seriousness of the situation and equip them with tail weapons. For Emerald, though, I'd actually train with her. All day. Turgon, you have a special pardon from normal work to train Emerald. Remember how I trained you, and copy that in teaching her. Anything else?"

The CBers were silent. "Then this meeting is dismissed."

The table was cleared of all plates and then the CBers got to work. Panda and the Strategists didn't even have to think about who to take with them; it was obvious that the Moonfrost, Spyro, and the ATU would be the ones to go, along with Poetic Panda and the farmer's assistant.

After they left on their mission, the CBers went outside of the fort with the farmer to clear the brush away from what would soon be the new arrivals' burrow.

"You are going to have to be careful around here, when the dragons move in," the farmer had said. "When they're done digging, they'll be so deep you'll have five minutes to realize you fell before you splat at the bottom."

The first group of dragons arrived thirty minutes later, blinking their large, bulbous eyes in confusion but happy to be out in the sun. Their scales were shining like black diamonds, almost exactly like the ones embedded inside the CBers' new armor. Their ivory claws were surprisingly clean for belonging to dragons born to dig, and their enormous wings flapped excitedly.

"Okay, we need to put them somewhere fast, guys!!!" Booksy urged. "They already wandered off once and they keep trying to fly into the sun. They need something to dig."

The farmer and Critic A rushed over the drawbridge and helped the CBers lead the curious young dragons across the moat.

"Okay, guys," said the farmer's assistant. "We found you a nice place to dig, but Spyro will have to give you a checkup first. You are to listen to him as if he were me."

The dragonets nodded as they were escorted along the edge of the fort, coming to a halt in the back by a patch of bare earth. Spyro slid on a pair of glasses and a tie.

"Let's do this. Little Nocte Fictiles," said Spyro. "You're being admitted to a new standard. No longer will your mission be to dig in the ground for gems. Your job is to protect us, the CBers. If you value your home, then you will do well to protect it from the growing threat surrounding us. I'm talking about the animals of an opposing army. You're already good fighters, so you won't need tarining, but I'm going to let the farmer's assistant assign your schedules on who's guarding and stuff like that. And you all look healthy to me! So you can start digging right here on this pre-cleared dirt!!!"

The rest of the day was spent busily carving sharp rocks for the dragonets's tails, training Emerald, and retrieving more and more dragons from the mine.

The dragonets were already highly disciplined and took their new jobs very seriously. Five would stand and guard the outisde wall of the fort while the rest rested and/or helped Turgon train Emerald.

Even though Emerald was younger than them, they showed her much respect and were kind to her in her training.

submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 27, 2016 - 8:33 pm)

At around five o'clock, after most of the work was done, Elsa and Rufus brought a surprise to the camp. It was WindClan and Joss's giant mob of hot-pink cats! "I thought we could use them as, you know, informants. Or watchers. Whatever you want to call them, they'll spy for us and tell us when things happen. Only the farmer can understand them, but that's okay. It's better than nothing."

"Hey, good job, you two!" said the farmer's assistant. She held a bowl of tubers in her arms that were in the process of being turned into hot dogs. She opened the door for the two AEs.

"WindClan, you stay around here. The general might have some instructions for you later."

The AEs walked into the fort and the farmer's assistant closed the door behind them. Inside the fort, the CBers were running around with food in their arms. The farmer was shouting orders from the fireplace and some CBers put bowls on the table.

"Um, what's going on?" asked Elsa. "I thought we were going to be...you know, working to the bone and stuff since we're at war now?"

"Yeah, but we have to eat! The farmer and I are having a friendly cooking contest. The CBers already picked teams...Do you want to be on mine, or the farmer's?"

"GO TEAM ROCKET!" cheered Moonfrost. "Elsa, Rufus, join our team! We named it after Team Rocket from Pokemon. The farmer's assistant's team is uncreatively called the Marshmallows. Ours is coolest!!!! They don't cook, they perform spells! Our team has the real skill."

"Um, no offense, Moonfrost, but I want to see the farmer's assistant work some magic. Plus, the name Marshmallows is NOT uncreative! I LIKE marshmallows!" said Rufus. He jumped into the kitchen.

Elsa hesitated for only a few seconds before joining Team Rocket. "What are we cooking?" she asked the farmer, who was frantically stirring two big cauldrons hanging over a raging fire.

"I'm boiling lambchops right now, but--" The farmer paused, distracted.

Before Elsa could even ask where the farmer had found lambchops, Spyro walked over with a list in his hands. "Elsa...Elsa...Let's see...looks like Moonfrost has assigned you to mushroom duty. You and Over the Rainbow have to go collect these little brown pearls of flavor from the woods." Spyro popped a small tan mushroom into his mouth. "Good luck. Hurry back now."

Puck pushed past Elsa. "Ok thanks for watching my pot, I can take over now." The farmer handed her the other ladel he'd been using and brushed off his shirt, turning to Moonfrost.

"Moonfrost, are the mushroom gatherers back yet?"

"No, sir, they just left."

The farmer glanced over at the table where a giant turkey was being finished. "They're going to beat us at this rate."

"Don't worry, sir, we're going to win. Slow and steady wins the race."

"It's done! Someone get me a bowl!"

Booksy retrieved a bowl from the kitchen and brought it to Puck, who spooned out a gelatinous substance from her cauldron. She finished scraping it into the wooden bowl (which she had made herself that day) and ran into the kitchen to grab some spices and herbs.

Over at Team Marshmallow's table, the bustling was of a different kind.

Poetic Panda was the second in command and sent off CBers and AEs to get things that the farmer's assistant needed.

"We need something fat and round!" she shouted.

"Fat and round, people!" repeated Poetic Panda. "Fat and round."

"On it!" answered Shadow Dragon, and she ran outside.

Already they had morphed a rock into a turkey, some weeds into stuffing, pinecones into artichokes and wild parsnips into okra. (Not much of an improvement there.) More food was rapidly appearing and there was always someone running into the kitchen for a plate.

"I like cooking this way, because the table sets itself," said the farmer's assistant as she finished a pile of hot dogs and a matching set of buns.

Elsa blew in through the front door, her arms full of mushrooms. The farmer ran over, snatched them up from her arms, and ran back to his pot. "Thanks!" he called. Over the Rainbow walked in after Elsa and gave her mushrooms to Puck on the other side of the room.

Puck was working furiously with her mixture, stirring it up and adding salt and other seasonings. She whipped it into a dough, adding nuts and a pinch of sugar while she did so, and then she put little scoops of it on a hanging tray over the fire.

Then she stood up and ran to the outside of the fort, where she scraped some of the sap of the loveleaves that had dripped onto the ground onto a pan.

Then she rushed inside and boiled it over the fire. After that, she sprinkled some white sugar, cinnamon, and butter into the syrup. Then she drizzled the liquid onto her buns, topping them off with chopped walnuts.

Team Marshmallow finished with a flourish of lavender sparks: A wooden vase filled with lilacs placed on the table marked the end of their mission. Two seconds later Team Rocket finished cooking their meal, too.

"Now, to eat!" said the farmer. "The real test comes with taste. So. Whose meal do you want to try first?"

"Let's start with yours," said the farmer's assistant.

"Well then. Take a seat!"

The CBers seated themselves on the long table while the farmer's assistant levitated her creations to the other side of the room. She tried to float Team Rocket's food to the table, but the farmer stopped her. "We'll serve it classic style," he said.

As they brought the food out, the farmer gave Team Marshmallow the grand tour of the food.

"First we have our plate of seasoned lambchops. They were boiled to perfection, and seasoned with wild roasted herbs. Then we have the roasted potatoes and mushrooms, with green beans and fresh tubers from the forest. Puck has made a delicious dessert of quinoa buns with suffodio sap syrup. Wild peaches are on the small plates you'll soon see before you. Now, without furthur ado, I present your dinner!"

The CBers of Team Rocket brought out each plate of food, its delicious aroma floating through the entire fort.

The farmer warned them not to eat too much--there was still a whole other dinner to be tasted. So the CBers simply picked at the food, trying a piece here, muching a piece there. After they were half full (or half empty?), Moonfrost and Dragonrider cleared the leftovers from the table and put them in the kitchen.

After they had settled back down, the farmer's assistant said, "Okay, Team Marshmallow. Let's do this!"

The Marshmallows had outdone themselves--they'd made hot dogs, hamburgers, a giant turkey, cinnammon buns, artichokes, grapes, apples, peaches, plums, tomatoes, sweet onions, cakes, olives, and a bunch of other random stuff, including alligator meat patties.

It was seven thirty when the taste testing was over, and each CBer was full to the max.

"So who do you think won?" asked the farmer's assistant. The CBers looked at each other.

"I think we should let Emerald decide," Turgon said. "Seeing as she's just eaten all the leftovers."

"Wait, wha--"

Emerald was using Turgon's hand as a napkin. All that was left of the CBers' hard work were the crumbs on the plates.

"Who do you think won, Emerald?" asked Turgon.

Emerald put a talon to her chin and looked up, thinking. Then she walked to the farmer and nuzzled his hand. The farmer's assistant's jaw dropped.

"Emerald!" the farmer's assistant gasped.

Emerald smiled at her and nuzzled the farmer's hand again.

"I helped Turgon keep your egg safe!"

Emerald made a tsk-ing noise, as if to say, "The winner is obvious! I have nothing to do with the flavor of your food."

The farmer grinned. "Good game, good game. And what a good dinner."

"We should do this every day!" Rufus said.

Critic A rolled her eyes. The farmer laughed. "I think we should keep this kind of thing a special occasion."

The CBers smiled contentedly in the moments of silence that followed. Then the farmer stood up.

"It's time for our meeting. I think that General Panda should begin."

Poetic Panda looked nervous, but she stood up and gave an overview of the day's happenings anyway. "Today we gathered thirty Nocte Fictiles from their mine. Turgon has also started Emerald's training. Um, we ate a delicious meal tonight and the farmer won the contest. Spyro, report."

"The dragonets have been given a schedule that rotates them off guard duties. There is always a group of five dragons surrounding the fort's outer wall. They've been health-checked and are perfectly fine. They're really excited to join us. I think that's it. Oh, wait, one more thing: Don't fall into their hole! It really is deep. And Elsa and Rufus brought WindClan to our doorstep to keep us in touch with the goings-on of the rest of the farm. Only you the farmer can understand them, though, so he might want to talk to them after this."

"Excellent. I will," said the farmer. Poetic Panda continued calling for reports. 

"Moonfrost, report."

"No change in status, General, other than our new location."

"Good. Shadow Dragon, report."

"Um, we're good. I think? No change in status?"

"Okay, good. There's not much to report on when the murderer always knows where we are, but it's good to practice, I guess. Now...Anybody else have anything to say?"

Nobody spoke, so Panda moved on to the next part of the meeting. "Tomorrow and the days following are going to be very different from what we've been through so far. We are going to gather more and more animals, taking what the murderer hasn't, so she cannot outnumber us. We are going to battle her animals, and we may have to resort to extermination of the animals. The farmer and I have been talking and it seems that humanely capturing the murderer's army isn't very logical. We will kill an animal only if there is no hope of undoing all of its evil training, or in self-defense. In other words, if it is logical and necessary. Our goal? To minimize the murderer's army. Then we will return to the house and search for clues as to who the murderer may be. Is this clear?"

The CBers nodded.

"Then I ask you: Train every moment. Sharpen your weapons as well as your mind. Prepare yourself physically and emotionally for the upcoming battles. I fear that we may have seen just a fraction of what the murderer and her animals are capable of. I'm not going to sugar-coat it--this isn't going to be easy. No murderer has ever been defeated by the CBers. But we have hope. After all, we're still alive. Let's try to keep it that way. Now, you should all get some sleep. I know it's only 8:45 but we're getting up early tomorrow. Remember, we have a long mission ahead of us."

The CBers and AEs filed up the ladder to the loft. Despite the early hour, they really were exhausted. Even Emerald curled up on Turgon's lap. (She was actually bigger than the bed itself, so you couldn't actually see Turgon...But you could hear his muffled snores.) 

submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 27, 2016 - 8:33 pm)
submitted by Tip Tip Top Top!
(November 27, 2016 - 8:34 pm)
Three days passed. The CBers worked harder than they ever had. Animals flowed in from the magical air zone, the barn, and the woods. The ATU was working full-time and CBers were helping tame and train animals whenver they weren't practicing their weapons or fortifying the barn and other fort.
The Nocte Fictiles were taken from the barn by the handfuls and by the end of those three days there were about fifty-five living in the hole next to the fort. As more came in it became harder to accomodate them, not to mention feed them. The farmer had to halt Nocte Fictiles transporation after the fifty-fifth dragon.
Emerald grew exponentially, becoming so large that she couldn't fit inside the house. Her scales were harder than ever and her body grew longer and less babyish. Her bluish tint faded as she started eating whole deer from the forest. She took on a golden-swirled hue. The Nocte Fictiles helped Emerald train, and she learned how to control her powers. She now had the potential to make mountains, or create craters. She could turn a tree to marble, iron, diamond, anything she wanted, at just a glance. She could pound trenches into the ground with one flick of her tail. She had, in essense, power over all the rocks and minerals and anything under the earth.
The CBers who weren't handling animals or training with their armor and weapons were racing against the murderer's growing army to stake out land around their forts, post guards, and keep watch to prevent siege.
Two scuffles happened on the edge of the woods near the entrance to the murderer's old hideout, but no one was hurt too badly. However, they did discover that the murderer wasn't using her old cave anymore.
It was at the end of the third day that the sentry, who happened to be Critic A, saw the full force of the murderer's army. WindClan alerted movement on the driveway and as Critic A climbed to the top tier of the watchtower Puck had constructed, she gasped.
Hundreds of animals just sat there at the top of the driveway, staring into her eyes menacingly. Critic A quaked with fear and called for the farmer's assistant.
When she got to the top, she gasped as well, seeing the army without the aid of a telescope.
"Wow," she breathed. "How does she do it?"
When the other CBers heard about the sighting, Moonfrost quoted, "'She grows stronger as we grow weaker.' Every time we die, she gains a ghost to do her bidding."
"Why would they help her?" asked Princess Icicle.
"Because they have to. I think that they become slaves to the person that killed them until their murderer gives them their freedom."
"So do you think that's why they were helping Dragonrider?" asked Joss, who had been there and seen what the ghosts had been doing.
"Yes, unless they know something we don't."
Day 16--Three Days Later
   3:09 AM, The House
The murderer had been there all night. She had finally been able to escape from the forts to do some important
business back at her new base. She had been communicating to her animals via a cat she had planted in WindClan, but there was something she needed to do for herself.
Using every single thing the CBers had left at the house, including the agar agar in a baggy, she had created a contraption that she hoped would open the locked door to the farmer's room. It had taken her two hours to build. It was going to be really sorry if it decided to break.
She gathered her ghosts and gave them a quick greeting. They talked for a bit, talking about animals and 'the enemy', and then: "...It's for the best."
The ghosts dispersed and then the murderer ran through the torn-up living froom and tiptoed up the marble stairs with her small machine. She set it at the top step and pressed a button. Two metal rods shot out of the side, piercing into the stone by the door. It whirred and sparked and then, glowing blue and green, it fired an extremely long needle at the door. Then everything went wrong.
The needle never hit the door. It was repelled by some force, doubtlessly magical, and it smashed into the machine. The murderer barely had time to fling herself down the stairs before all her hard work exploded.
Hopeful, the murderer turned on the lights to see if the explosion had caved in the door. There wasn't even a speck of charcoal on it.
She sighed. "Now what?" she asked herself. Opening that door had been a key part to her plan. She had been so sure that her machine would work. The metal rods in the wall were there to soak up the magic, and the items the CBers had brought, which were touching the rods from inside the wooden casing, would be infused with magic. Then, they were supposed to be compressed into one small needle, which had happened, but the needle hadn't even made it to the door. There was obviously some very powerful magic at work there.
"Oh, well. I'll have to try something else. But I need to get going now if I'm going to make it back to the fort in time for the next dragon shift-change. And still pretend like I've been there all night."
Just then the murderer heard the front door open with a creak. She froze.
"I know you're there..." said a voice like leaves blowing over the grass. "I have come to help you."
The murderer snapped her fingers softly and a lion came out of the old meeting room to protect her at the bottom of the stairs. "Bring that intruder to me," she whispered. The lion padded into the dining room, swinging its large head in search of the mysterious person inside.
"Ah, no need for that," crackled the voice. It belonged to a girl. A mass of swirling leaves conjured in front of the murderer, and they blew upwards, piling themselves into the form of a  dress, then arms, a neck, and finally, a head.
The dress was brown and patterned with leaves of all the colors of leaves in the fall. The girl had hair of the same colors and wore on her head red, brown, and yellow leaves woven into a simple crown.
"You are SO going to get ripped apart by my lions," growled the murderer.
The girl laughed. She looked about the age of a young teenager, but her mahogany eyes were cold and hard. "Oh, no need for that. I'm here to help you. I understand what you want. I have been watching you. And I'll help you do it. If you want me to."
The murderer hesitated. "What's your name?" she finally asked, though she regretted it after she realized that bad guys like to have long, dramatic introductions.
"I am the ancient entity that has been around since the first changing of the seasons. I am the leaves that blow in the autumn, the cool breeze that accompanies fall. I am the bringer of winter. I am not known by many anymore, as now they see me as cozy fires and cool, happy days. But I used to be feared. I used to be the one to prepare the way for ice, snow, and death. Some know me as the Spirit of Fall. I am Autumn Leaves."
"Oh. Ok. You can help me. But why would you want to? You don't know these Chatterboxers. It's not your fight."
"I have my own grudges against the farmer."
The murderer nodded knowingly. Her previous plan had gone down the drain. She could use the help. But the timing was still a bit suspiscious.
"Okay. I get that. So what are your powers? What makes you valuable to me?"
"Ah. I am fall. I am the changing season. And though the seasons here have no connection to the seasons in the outside world, I have spent centuries here and have memorized their patterns. My powers will be their strongest in 51 hours as autumn falls on this wretched farm. Would you like a demonstration before I leave?"
"On your powers? Sure, why not. Just do them on the foxes, not me." The murderer whistled, and three foxes rambled in.
Autumn Leaves began to disperse. "This will not hurt," she said as she faded into the wind.
The murderer felt a chill blow through her hair. "I said don't do them on me!" she yelled.
The chill of fall settled in on the murderer's bones. She felt as brittle as a tree with no leaves, as crunchy as dry grass, as windblown and chapped as the fields outside. She couldn't move. She was a reptile put under the spell of brumation, a bear snoring away in a cave. Then the sensation subsided.
"What was the point of the foxes?" the murderer snapped when she could speak again. "I thought I asked you not to do magic on me."
"Many, but not all, of my powers rely on feelings. You would not have known what I was doing had I not done anything to you."
"Fine. Now show me the 'not all' part."
Autumn Leaves smiled wickedly. She turned to the foxes, singling out the smallest one of the bunch.
She closed her eyes. A cold wind stirred and Autumn Leaves raised her hands. Two of the foxes backed away but the small one had a faraway look in its eyes and didn't make any move to escape. The murderer looked on with interest.
The leaf-clad girl rose into the air and her hair whipped wildly. The fox made a hacking sound. Leaves floated out of the point where the floor met the wall and swirled around the fox. It shook its head and tried to move, but it was sluggish and acted as if it were stuck in a pit of mud. Its eyes grew heavy and they closed. After a few moments they opened again and it scrambled around, darting out of the narrow hallway and into the rest of the house. Autumn Leaves and the murderer followed at a distance. Eventually the fox stopped and fell to the ground, stiff and cold. Its whole body had petrified.
"Whoa," breathed the murderer.
Autumn Leaves grinned. "What you didn't know was that its body was slowly hardening, from the inside out."
"What a horrible way to die," muttered the murderer. "Don't use this on the Chatterboxers, okay? Promise me."
"I promise. Like I said, I am only here for my revenge on the farmer. I will be back tomorrow. You haven't even seen a fraction of what I can do."
With that, Autumn Leaves collapsed into a swirling mass of leaves and blew out of the house.
The murderer also left the house. She hurried down to the fort, slipping past the guard dragons through the tunnel she'd connected to Emerald's old mine. As soon as she slipped into bed she popped up again. An idea had just occured to her.
--Three Hours Later--
"CHATTERBOXERS! WAKE UP!" screamed the farmer's assistant. The CBers opened their eyes, gasping for air. "WAKE UP! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!" she shouted, practically flying up to the loft to shake the CBers awake. "It's an air flow leak! You can't survive in these conditions!"
The CBers' brains were foggy from the poisoned air but they got out of bed anyway.
The farmer climbed up into the loft as well. "Go downstairs, everyone! Quickly!" He and his assistant began pushing CBers towards the ladder. They half-fell, half-climbed down to the main floor. Emerald helped break their falls.
"Where can we take them?" the CBers thought they heard the farmer's assistant ask. Her voice sounded so distant.
"The air is dense--it'll be seeping downwards into the dragons' burrows. I don't know how long the air has been like this, so it may or may not already be to the top of the watchtower. Take them there for now."
"Chatterboxers," said the farmer's assistant. "There has been a leak in air from the magical animal pastures. You will all be poisoned if you do not follow me to the top of the watchtower. Do you understand?"
The CBers nodded--slowly and fearfully. The farmer's assistant led them out of the fort and to the foot of the watchtower, ready to break the fall of anyone who might fall. She counted them up and panicked when one was missing--Poetic Panda.
The farmer's assistant turned around just in time to see Panda winging away on Emerald.
"What the--Poetic Panda! GET BACK HERE! RIGHT NOW!"
The CBette turned around on Emerald's back but didn't steer the dragon towards the direction of the fort. The farmer ran outside to see what his assistant was yelling about.
"What's wrong?"
"Poetic Panda just flew away on Emerald. I don't know what she's thinking. Maybe the air messed up her thinking?"
"No, look where she's heading. I think she's going to the rescue."
----------------------
On Emerald's back, Poetic Panda fought to stay conscious. The air got thicker with every wingbeat.
  I have to stop the leak. Or we'll all be poisoned. Must get...must get pink fluff--No! Helmets. Helmet first.
Emerald seemed to know exactly where Panda wanted to go. The CBer general didn't even have to steer, and they made it to the magical creature zone in five minutes.
Poetic Panda's brain was considerably fogged now, but for some strange reason, she kept moving. Through dim, fuzzy vision she saw that the door that kept the air in was...gone.
She plowed through the opening and tripped on the grass, knocking her head on the helmet stand. A helmet fell and hit her on the head, knocking her awake.
Ouch, she thought. Then she felt claws gripping her and shoving something onto her head. It must've taken ten whole minutes for her head to clear. Her lungs were raw and she still couldn't speak, but she could think and walk and that was all that mattered at the moment.
Emerald was watching anxiously through the doorway that was only small enough for her to fit her arms through. When Poetic Panda finally stirred, she breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Poetic Panda stumbled out of the magical air zone and pointed at Emerald, miming...something?
Emerald tried to figure out what Panda was telling her. Laser beam? Boulders? Those would only make the wall break!
Then Emerald had to stop and give herself a dragon facepalm. She could make a new door! Motioning for Panda to stand back, she used her claws to cut a slab of dirt the size of the doorway. Then she turned it into marble and heaved it into the opening, but not before Poetic Panda snatched the remaining helmets from the helmet stand.
Fast as lightning, Poetic Panda hopped onto Emerald and the dragonet took off.
---------------------
The CBers could breathe a little easier up on the watchtower, but not by much. In fact, it became harder to breathe the longer they stood there.
"Shouldn't we go help her?" asked the farmer's assistant.
"No, she'll be fine," the farmer assured her. "She's strong."
"There she is!"
Emerald appeared on the horizon, Panda on her back. A few seconds later, Emerald crashed down onto the ground.
Poetic Panda coughed. "I got the door fixed...And some helmets," she rasped.
The farmer and his assistant ran over to help Panda down, taking some of the head pieces out of her arms.
"Poetic Panda, that was very brave! I'm so proud of you!" exclaimed the farmer's assistant.
"Thanks," she managed. "Can you hand the other helmets out for me? I can't climb the ladder."
"Of course," replied the farmer's assistant.
When every CBer and AE had a helmet on, the farmer turned to Poetic Panda. "The magical air will always sink down into the earth. In about half an hour the air should be clean enough to breathe."
The CBette nodded. "Will everyone be okay?"
"Yes, but just in case, I'll be right back." The farmer headed for the woods, leaving Poetic Panda standing on the ground next to Emerald. He returned shortly after holding a large struggling insect in his tightly clenched hand, which he held out for Poetic Panda to see. "A Borealis moth," he explained. The creature was changing colors frantically. "You can find them on almost any tree, as long as it's in a magical area. The scales on their wings clear the lungs of toxins when inhaled."
The CBers were led down to the ground. The farmer sprinkled the scales from the Borealis moth through the 'in' filter of the CBers' helmets. Everyone was feeling better in no time.
"I almost DIED," coughed Spyro. "I almost DIED. I LITERALLY felt myself fading out of reality. I actually thought I saw Hotairballoon staring at me from the living room of the house."
"Really? That's odd," said the farmer's assistant. "You're a dragon. Why did the magical air affect you?"
Spyro shrugged his shoulders. "Don't ask me."
"Poetic Panda saved the day," said the farmer. "Her and Emerald's quick action saved your lives."
Emerald looked proud. So did Poetic Panda, for that matter. The CBers cheered.
----------------------------------
The murderer was angrier than a hornet. Madder than a nest of rattlesnakes. More irrational than a raging rhino. Did Poetic Panda not GET what she was trying to do? Did no one SEE the danger here?
Before she had ripped the door to the magical air zone off its hinges and hidden it in the house, she had gone to the library and read what she could about the properties of the air. Then, on her way back to the fort, (after she had destroyed the door), she snuck into the woods and grabbed a Borealis moth for herself. Just as she had read it would be, it was flying through the trees with other moths, making beautiful light patterns in the night air. Squish. One less moth.
She'd pretended to be poisoned along with the rest of the CBers, coughing to disguise the times when she needed more moth dust to keep her lungs intact.
Now her plan had been ruined. Again. By the same. Exact. Chatterboxer. As last time. Time for a BATTLE. I'm going to finish my work once and for all. And anyway--I need to be ready for Autumn Leaves's magical peak in two days.
"I'm going out to train," she declared. "Is it safe outside?"
"As safe as it is inside," answered the farmer's assistant. She was making brunch, to make up for the breakfast the CBers had never had.
The murderer slammed the door behind her.
Outside, she whistled a complicated pattern while she trained with her weapon. A short blast so they know to come, followed by a tweet, so they know to delay. Thirty seconds of silence to represent a thirty minute delay. Yes, a sudden attack. A really long, powerful whistle to alert them there needs to be many strong warriors, lowered to an undulating, mysterious call. Half of them are to come. Two hundred and thirty-nine savage animals. A small pip to let them know the message has ended. And everyone will think I was just whistling with the passion of training. Hah. Passion that all my animals' training is over.
--Thirty minutes later--
"Um, you're not going to like what I'm seeing here...," called Princess Icicle from the top of the watchtower. She was on guard duty. Nobody replied. "HEY! PEASANTS!" Still no answer. Glancing back through her telescope once more confirmed that the mob she saw was no illusion.
"Darn, I guess I'll have to climb down. Do they know how hard it is to do guard duty with high heels on? They're the only shoes I have!"
Luckily for Princess Icicle, the farmer's assistant came out to alert her of a shift change.
"Pr--"
"Yeah, yeah. That's irrelevant now. There's an army coming in from the house...I'd say over two hundred animals in it..."
The farmer's assistant's jaw dropped. She stuttered for a moment before regaining her composure. "I--I'll go tell everyone! Break the heels off those shoes and come down here!"
Princess Icicle looked aghast. She looked sadly at her last pair of beautiful shoes. "Oh, my beautiful shoes. Goodbye." Then she slammed the heels on the railing of the watchtower until the high part broke off. They were now extremely short...low heels. "Oh, well, I'll just buy some more when this is all over."
------------------------------
submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 28, 2016 - 9:01 pm)
-------------------------------------
The CBers suited up in their armor as fast as they could, but it still took them a while to get it on without the workers to help them. Spyro ran outside and rallied up the Nocte Fictiles. Poetic Panda and the farmer quickly organized the CBers into fighting teams and went over a simple strategy. Any CBer with a long-range weapon would be in the watchtower shooting down from afar. Any CBer with a sword or other weapon would be in the fray, fighting near a dragon or another CBer. The Nocte Fictiles were going to go into battle first to weaken the enemy. Any animals that broke through would be fought off by the Chatterboxers. Emerald would be behind the Nocte Fictiles shooting things with her magical rays.
"One more thing," added the farmer. "Rosemary, you are the battlefield medic. You'll heal the wounded CBers and AEs."
Rosemary nodded.
"Let's do this," said Spyro.
Over the Rainbow, Princess Icicle, and Booksy Owly scurried up the ladder to the watchtower. The Nocte Fictiles positioned themselves far in front of the fort, ready to intercept the enemy lines when they arrived. Emerald stood tall, awaiting the same thing. The CBers were nervous but they also far away from the fort, behind Emerald. The CBers in the watchtower held their weapons ready. And then the first wave arrirved.
Fire and claws thrashed. Animal screams of pain scorched the air. Arrows and other projectiles sailed into the fray, but it wasn't enough. Two hundred animals against fifty-six dragons and three CBers. It didn't take long for animals to begin spilling around the dragon defenses.
"Get ready," warned Moonfrost. She held Jack, ready for battle, in her hand. I haven't done any battle for centuries! he thought excitedly.
Lions, tigers, bears, wolverines, and coyotes slipped around the Nocte Fictiles. Emerald shot a few with her marble ray, but too many ran by. Moonfrost met the first animal with a fierce jab of her sword, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Her partner, Turgon, waved his mace threateningly. Poetic Panda and Rufus took down a bear. But it seemed that with every animal they defeated, another ten took its place. The farmer's assistant and the farmer were in their true forms, slashing at every beast that crossed their path. The next wave pushed through the defenses. Four-legged monstrosities--huge goats, bicorns, horses, boars--spilled into the clearing.
Gwen fought as hard as she could against the remains of the first wave, but a strange spiky-haired beast with the face of a sloth and the tail of a scorpion overcame her. It cornered her against a tree, growling menacingly. The sloth creature then slashed her on the shoulder with its tail and ran off. It was just a tiny nick through the gap between her shoulder armor and arm guards. Just a slash? Is that it? Gwen wondered if she had been lucky. But then she fell to the ground. Her arm was going numb. POISON! she screamed inside her head. Sweat broke out all over her body. "Rosemary!" she called. Her vision was fading fast. She was vaguely aware of the tenderhearted AE rushing to her side, calling for magical assistance...Coolness numbed the burning in her arm. She heard crying from somewhere distant...Someone clasped her hands. The noise of the battle faded and Gwen opened her eyes. She was in the house again. Micearenice, Hotairballoon, Will, Abigail, Cho Chang, Sydney, Chip, Holly, Joan...all the deceased CBers were there, staring at her.
"I died," she told them.
~~~
"There's nothing I can do except ease her pain," said the farmer's assistant, and she touched Gwen's arm. Rosemary was crouched next to Gwen, whose eyes were closed and was dripping sweat.
"We should call Joss over. JOSS!" shouted Rosemary. Joss turned around and saw her AE lying on the grass. She scared the animal she was battling away and ran over.
"What's--Oh, no." Joss sat down next to her AE. "Can't you cure her?" she asked the farmer's assistant. 
"No. There's no cure for Slorpion venom. All I can do is cool the burning."
Mortifero fought her way over, having heard Gwen's cry for help. "Gwen!" she shouted, clasping the AE's hand. "You were my kind of AE. You were my best almost-a-friend ever."
The CBers and AE stayed with her until the end.
---------------
The battle raged on. Enormous birds the size of horses tore down from the sky. Rufus and Elsa were battling a ferocious duck-eagle-horse-dragon-snake-hippo thingy when a real hippo came at them from behind. The force of the stampeding hippo launched them across the battlefield.
"Elsa," Rufus said as the AEs flew through the air. "In case we don't make it, there's something I've always wanted to tell you."
Elsa rolled her eyes.
"I accidentally used your toothbrush last night."
Elsa looked sick. "Then whose did I use?"
Rufus shrugged. "Probably mine."
The two AEs hit the ground, one smiling impishly and one trying not to puke. Rosemary darted over to help them as soon as she heard their thump. Rufus's tough dragon skin kept him mostly intact, but even though Rosemary gave Elsa a full dose of bone-treatment medicine, Cho Chang's AE didn't make it.
~~~
Back at the house, Elsa's ghost let out a sigh of relief. "Phew," she said. "I'm glad I don't have to live the rest of my life with the knowledge that I brushed my teeth with essence of dragon spit."
~~~
More coming soon!
submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 28, 2016 - 9:05 pm)

TOP!!!!!

submitted by Farmer's Assistant, The Resort Farm
(November 29, 2016 - 7:17 am)
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