Junk Golem Big Rusty Saw

Written by: Sorynn and Alfin Slowhand

If a curious sort were wishing to find
An awkward heavy weapon, one springs to mind.
Hiding in a tree in the plains of Dundee
Live a plethora of gremlins who stealing in harmony.

Either up above the roots or is it down below?
A not so kind Junk Golum will give you quite a show.
He hoards many trinkets taken from far and near.
But please let me assure you, the joke is on you, dear.

Because if you can find him, much to your guffaw,
Your prize is a fairly useless and burdensome rusty saw.

By Sorynn

It has been said....
There was an enterprising young wizard who wished to own many things. He would start to build towers and dungeons, then grow impatient with his progress. Never seeming to quite finish his task.
This mage, bent on his ambitions, sought out the great builders and the dark artists whom we shall not name. Combining their knowledge, he built, or birthed rather, a crafty assistant. Their deeds were legendary in their time. But it was not enough. So this wizard, for he was now quite powerful, created another of these creatures. And this is when things began to grow out of his control.
It wasn't long until many of his tools and possessions began to disappear. He finally caught his helpers red handed, robbing him blind. Following them to where they were hiding their stash, he saw they had built a laboratory, IN A TREEHOUSE!! They weren't the best at coming up with their own ideas you see. But the were good at improving on them. So they had begun making more of themselves... hundreds of them in fact. Still, their rather small stature kept them from overthrowing their master. SO they waged a pitched battle with the wizard. Raids would be taken against their former master's storehouses. In turn Lightning would strike their tree, or at times the old mage would cause the tree to grow unnaturally fast. This would engulf the half sized men's lab in branches to where they could not work.
Growing tired of the current state of affairs, some of the smarter creatures started on their masterwork. They were going to build a "man". One large enough to take on the old mage. Yet to their chagrin, time caught up with him first. After the old man's passing, the helpers seemed to fade from our memories...

On occasion there have been stories of the little fellows creeping into town to steal supplies.

Hmmm I wonder if they ever finished their last project.

By Alfin Slowhand