The Ireem Chronicles

It is becoming evident to this reporter that something has happened to the women in Ireem.

We expect to see prey behaving rationally; running the sands, away from frightening predators. We expect to see female citizens engaged in quiet pursuits, such as sewing clothing in their shops, or preferably, at home and out of sight entirely.

Rather than running from predators as a good prey should, or staying home and sewing, as any good seamstress should do, Rana and Enigma were engaged in most uncomely and unexpected behavior yesterday.

It started off innocently enough, when the two mischief-makers were simply spying on the slavers' camp. Bored women spying on shirtless slavers is common. We are not offended; we understand.

However, they were approached by a slaver whom we all must know by now is not very subtle. In fact, one might consider him a little slow. We refer to Am Demina, the same slaver whom we reported walked into the Magi Tower in front of an armed mage, mere minutes after admitting the slavers have been stealing.

In this case, the slaver not only told the women he spotted them spying, but threatened to tell the other slavers.

Rana followed him, of course, and bashed his head from behind, knocking him unconscious. Enigma and Rana guarded him, bashing him repeatedly, whenever it looked like he might regain consciousness.

This went on for what seemed like half the afternoon. The man would stir. Rana would bash. Enigma would stand there and scold him.

Leon and Desire came to the auction area to try to save their not-quite-bright brother, for some unknown reason. They demanded the women let him go. Enigma pulled her sword on the slavers, but Leon was armed with a whip, and we all now know that he knows how to use it.

He skillfully whipped his whip around and caught Enigma's legs with it. She tripped. He wrapped it around her neck and dragged her off to the slavers' cage, where he locked her up and whipped her for good measure.

Knights and slavers battled, but the battle dragged on with no end in sight, particularly because the sandstorm was so fierce no one could move well. Every step was slow; it was like fighting in mud, or so it seemed to this reporter.

After what seemed to be endless hours, Enigma screamed for that trusty knight, Sir Seraf, who came running as soon as he heard her plea for help. An agreement was finally reached to trade Enigma for Am.

After reading this story, you may be asking yourself the obvious question: Why on earth would any sensible slaver trade the beautiful and ethereal Enigma for the clearly slow-witted Am?

But the real question, dear readers, is this: What will become of the economy and stability of Ireem when the quiet, gentle women of the Kingdom take up arms and overcome the most vicious predators?

- Anneliese