*A package delivered to the news office, written in the somewhat spidery hand of a drown*

Fae.

Fairys, Pixies, Nymphs, spirits, little people.

Call them what you may.

Long have the wee folk been a part of cordor, often an unwelcome, annoying part, but today their..strangeness, reached fevor pitch.

A strange drow claiming to be a pixie ran through the town screaming of puddles today, and before to long a strange mechanical monstrosity was seen cleaning them up. Odd, but in a city like cordor such a sight is no more unusual then a dancing demon shouting 'woo'.

However, no sooner had the streets been cleaned of filthy water did a storm of pixies and fairy kind fly from the skies, ripping clothes, pulling eyelids, riffling pockets and slipping up shirts. In a city like Cordor, this sort of maddness is..well even for Cordor this was unusual. The fae eventually turned violent, and a random battle with fae fighting fae fighting people fighting anything that moved, the streets quickly disolved into chaos. Many of the fae ran screaming the name of Queen maeve, and it seemed the town would be relaxed finally now that the Bizzare drow had left.

However, this was not the end of this story.

By a long shot.

Not even a few hours had passed then a strange gremlin could be seen zipping about the sky. The air grew cold with winter chill and a few snowflakes drifted to the dirty streets, and the gremlin flung some sort of spell at nearly everyone it could touch, transforming them into Penguins.

Pointless? Most likely, after some mysteriouse number had been reached the gremlin vanished again, leaving many confused flightless birds and a feeling of palpable uneasiness.

Prehapse the mistreatment of the fae has gone to far at last and their striking back? Maybe someone has insulted or stolen from them. But at this rate cordor will be reduced to a barren pixie playground of starving penguins and agitated man-nymphs, so this humble freelancer suggests that ALL citizens immiedietly purchase sweets and milk to plactate these mischevious beings, or the council invest in a very large, impossible to resist to touch blue gem suspended by some form of pully system that delivers a powerful discharge to any small flying creature that touchs it.

Or just be kind to the fae you meet. The little annoying voice you shoo off today could turn you into a frog tommorow.

-Sinthale'