‘Same again ‘Horace.’ 

The local hostelry fondly known by the locals as The Carve Up, was busy that afternoon. Standing room only. Peering through the window, looking in, two pairs of eyes were taking in the scene, All very strange to Idris but then Dragons don’t frequent such places normally, even in disguise. 

‘What are they doing?’ He asked.

‘They are doing what I believe is called boozing, Cuz.’

‘To what end?’

‘So that when they get to a certain point in the proceedings they can either fall down, unassisted, or fall down with a little help from their friends, as far as I understand.’

Idris couldn’t make head nor tails of this, completely beyond his understanding. He was definitely getting an insight into these odd creatures and nothing he saw changed his mind about them but merely strengthened his original assessment.

‘Of course,’ continued Windy, ‘they don’t always end up fighting. Sometimes they just go home, usually arguing about something or other.’

‘They’re bonkers.’   

‘They are a bit odd at times but some are really quite nice. I met some very charming ones back up North, brave too and loyal. Oh yes, some Peeps are truly delightful. So, it wouldn’t do to judge all by what you see here, no, no, no. That would be quite wrong,’ 

The two visitors moved on to find other examples to study. Windy suggested the market place, usually bustling with Peeps of every ilk. This is largely very true, on a market day but sadly this was not one of them and anyway it was now early evening. The place was deserted but for the odd cat and rat playing their own age old game.

‘I really would like to find some better examples for you before we return to Ynys Tan.

‘Ere, are you two lost or something?’ The enquirer was a taller than average Peeps wearing strange clothes different from the others, a strange looking hat on his head and carrying what looked like a sword tucked into his belt..

‘Oh, hello there, officer. We’re just on our way to the er, Inn, for a quick one before going home.’

 ‘The Inn, you mean The Carve Up?’

‘Yes, yes, The Carve Up.’

‘Very good then, see you stay out of trouble.’

When they were a good distance away Idris asked who that odd Peeps was.

‘That Cuz is what is called a Warden, They can be very good friends or quite the opposite, depending on your behaviour.’

‘So, are we going back to the Carve Up Like you told him?’

‘Okay, just follow my lead and say nothing, got that?

‘Got it.’

Perhaps one of the major advantages of being among a crowd of dedicated boozers is that they are so engrossed in their own struggle to maintain a grasp on reality they can so easily miss the elephant in the room, or rather, in this case, the dragon. So, when Idris found his head beginning to swim he momentarily lost control of his ability to stay in one shape. There’ll be a fair number of housewives being asked to believe the most outrageous excuse from their spouses as to why they are so drunk this night.

‘I think we got away with it that time, Cuz. Come on now, you cannot go to sleep here, not in the middle of the street.’

‘I bet you think I’m, how they say, ah yes, dwunk, don’t you?’

‘Not at all. Now let’s get you home while you still have some semblance of Peeps about you.’

There are some sights that once seen, never forgotten. Some are completely unimaginable. A slightly tipsy Great Red Dragon, a national symbol for some, ranks among the latter and in some ways saddest sights of all. Dragons, usually so majestic, have so many parts and keeping them coordinated can prove to be a challenge too far when influenced by The Juice and of course, their sheer weight becomes more than an embarrassment. Until Big Red finally passed out Windy spent a lot of the night dodging an off balance out of control mass of living matter. He didn’t mind so much but the constant giggling began to wear thin after a while.  There was going to be one mega sore head in the morning.

The talk in the marketplace was not about the odd looking character singing in the Carve Up last night but about the unusual weather in Oakwood lately. This subject is not one normally talked about much here in this part of Gwalia, known for its balmy climate but this season was particularly uncharacteristically non-seasonal. 

‘I’m telling you, Tom, I’ve never known a season like this one. If’n the temperature drops anymore we’ll be chipping the ice from our very noses.’

Blacksmith Dom was venting his frustration on his lifelong pal, undertaker Ted, over a beer in the Carve Up and it seems he wasn’t the only one. The place was abuzz with talk of a similar ilk. There was a great discontent growing among the Oakwood Peeps.

The effect of this change in weather conditions was being felt adversely on the Settlement’s latest form of income, tourism, and was giving great cause for concern and the Council were being badgered over it. Why aren’t they doing something about it? This was the question rather unfairly being levelled at them

‘It isn’t only the weather that’s upsetting the folk, Mr. Chairman but the sudden rise in robberies and, worse of all, violence. The good Peeps of this Settlement are very unhappy, and rightly so and want to know what, if anything, this Council is going to do about it?’

The Council Chamber was without doubt the warmest place in the area owing to the temperature of the debate in progress. Tempers were short, matching the level of frustration being felt by those present. 

Chief Warden Sam Childs was feeling the heat perhaps more than anyone else as it was up to him to deal with any lawlessness and robbery and these acts of violence definitely fit into those categories. He was under pressure like never before. He didn’t think this was particularly fair after all, he’d retired to this part of the world to see his working time out. The position had presented him with what was looked upon by his ex-colleagues in the big town as a real soft number. And, indeed it was for the first couple of years, until now. He had to admit to himself that he was stumped for ideas as he had absolutely nothing to go on by way of clues and of course, he could do nothing about the temperature. 

Now there was a certain young lady living in the Settlement by the name of Ginny, who had a bit of a reputation for knowing stuff. In fact she was the person to go to if you needed medical treatment or personal problems solved. She was suspected of a touch of witchcraft on the side. It was sheer desperation that brought Sam to her door.

‘It’s good of you to see me, Miss Ginny.’

‘It’s always nice to see our Chief Warden, tea?’

‘Thanks but no thanks, no disrespect Miss but I never touch the stuff. I’m a coffee man but it’s fine. I had one before I came out.’

The first thing one noticed about the diminutive young lady sitting before him was the pair of oversized horn rimmed glasses she wore over which she managed to peer, having the effect of unsettling one if one had something to hide. Not a good thing to have in her presence. She was fair haired and had piercing blue eyes.

‘That’s fine. Now, my friend, tell me what it is that’s making you so tense. What’s troubling you?’

Nothing like getting down to business straight away, thought Sam.

‘Well, Miss, I have to confess to feeling totally out of my depth.’

‘Please, Sam, it’s Ginny. Out of your depth with what, the recent crime wave and lack of clues or the climate change?’

‘My, my, M-Ginny, you know, how, I don’t understand?’

‘Oh it’s okay, I have my ways and I have been observing the events in and around the Settlement for some time now and frankly, wondered when you’d drop by.’

‘Well the problem is, when there’s a robbery there never is anything remotely like a clue left behind. Now every robber I have ever had the dubious pleasure of running into invariably left something behind. They can’t help it you see, it’s a matter of pride to leave a trademark. But, these robberies we’ve been having are strangely devoid of any such trademark. I mean, no self respecting thief would leave the scene of his handiwork without signing off, as it were. Besides, the stuff taken makes no sense, I mean it’s usually worthless. It’s the damage left behind that’s distressing for the victims.

Ginny listened patiently, ‘Go on’.

‘These acts of violence are even stranger. I mean, each victim has said exactly the same thing when interviewed afterwards. All they remembered was darkness, that’s a moving lump of darkness, like an entity of its own, oh, and what was really odd, a very bad smell. Other than that I have nothing else to go on.’

The room was quiet for a minute, Sam waiting hopefully for some answers. Ginny, thinking before she eventually broke the silence.

‘Hmm, it’s very much as I suspected.’

‘It is!?’

‘Yes, I have an aunt up north who has experienced something similar, not the same but remarkably alike.’

‘You do, she has?’

‘Yes and the first thing we must do is inform the Council, though knowing them it’s highly likely they will simply disbelieve us and then say it’s up to the Warden’s department anyway. Which will suit us, I think.’

‘Er, you do, it does?’

Sam was more confused now than when he first arrived at Miss Ginnys’ door. 

‘Most definitely. But first, we’ll go through the regular channels, give the Council a chance and then we’ll take it from there. Does that help you, Sam?’

‘Fair enough Ginny and, thanks.’

‘You’re very welcome, there’s one more thing. I almost hate to ask this but your Wardens, how reliable are they?’

‘My lads? Oh, they’re maybe not what everybody would call the ideal sort but they’re good lads, with whom I trust my life.’

‘That’s good, because we’re going to need them. Even so, I have a friend who lives not too far away who I can call on for a bit of help if needs be. First, the Council.