Prologue:

An old Felorian healer and alchemist known as Bartholomew were strolling through the Felorian Forests with his

friend Trevor.

"Are you sure that that liquid clay can be used to heal any wound?" asked Trevor.

"Yes," replied Bartholomew, a one hundred and seventy year old felorian. Felorians typically lived to be one thousand.

"What else should I learn from it?" asked Trevor.

"To be honest Trevor, the clay is also quite delicious when given its edible form. One downside is how heavy it is" said

Bartholomew, almost dropping the bucket, but not quite.

"If you want I can carry it," suggested Trevor. "I am very agile and strong when I need to be"

"Yeah, that's nice of you Trevor but we're almost to the old watermill. And we all know what's close to that thing" said

Bartholomew.

"The Caverns of Slaboriyah" replied Trevor.

"Exactly, the caverns of Slaboriyah. The only place where the transformation will work" explained Bartholomew.

Bartholomew and Trevor entered the cave at last, which was hollowed out in beautiful limestone. There was a long narrow

bridge upon which the two were guiding themselves along, and underneath the bridge were raging waters.

"Now, the first thing I have to do is stir the pot. Pass me the spoon-like apparatus Trevor" ordered Bartholomew,

stroking his perfect flowing gray mustache.

"Yes sir" replied Trevor handing Bartholomew the object in question.

"Good," said Bartholomew. "Now I will be able to make this clay magical when I stir it with this powerful item"

Bartholomew stirred and stirred. The liquid sloshed and slooshed about to and fro and became more and more lifelike and

full of motion much like the waters below them. He took a small taste of the mixture.

"Tastes like a hundred Christmas cookies! Delicious!" declared Bartholomew. Suddenly, Trevor heard some whispering behind him.

"Bartholomew, I hate to interrupt this delicate procedure but someone's watching us" said Trevor.

"Bah! Pay no mind to it, I am in a very deep trance, as I should be" said Bartholomew. A large powerful hooded figure loomed over the pair of alchemists, along with a small skink-like assistant. It posessed large pale hands with claws. A skull like face emerged from the cloak and began speaking over them.

"You will give that recipe to me. And only to me, all power must belong to me, I am Kliboljah Ignatius, soon to be ruler of this world" said Ignatius.

"Wha-wha-what? Who are you and what business have you?" asked Bartholomew, backing away slowly and offering up the pot.

"Give me the pot, and I will spare your life" said Ignatius in a slimey insincere tone.

"Okay then," said Bartholomew, the shivery old man offering up the pot.

"Well, you have given me the pot of clay, how sweet. So too shall I reward you as I do all my clients, with death" said Ignatius, picking up Bartholomew by his throat and squeezing as tight as he could.

"Let him go" shouted Trevor.

"I will, after his life force is no more" replied Ignatius. Bartholomew bit Ignatius's hand, causing him to be relinquished.

"Gah! You little insolent one. You will suffer" said Ignatius, creating a psi-ball with his hands and sending Bartholomew and his pot of clay into the waters below. Bartholomew froze into a statue, and the clay became solid yet

again. Ignatius cackled.

"Perfect. Now we can use this solid clay to craft a very powerful weapon that will enable us to destroy all Felorians"

said Ignatius.

"The clay in its solid form makes the best weapons! More withstanding to blows than even Mythril!" said Ned, a small lizard who was Ignatius's associate.

"Best weapons? Solid form? Shut up you don't make any sense" said Ignatius.

"I'm only repeating the stuff you've been talking about" replied Ned.

"Bre-aaaaaaaaaaaugh! GLAAA-AAAA-AAAAAAUGH!" shrieked Ignatius, contorting his face to several hideous demonic looking forms before Ned's eyes, as well as slurping and sticking his tongue out.

"What?" asked Ned.

"I like very much to mock people, especially idiot pawns such as you" said Ignatius, chuckling.

"Don't you think you should destroy the statue that Bartholomew became? Someone like Bloomeelia might come along

and help bring him back to life" said Ned.

"Gah, leave him there to rot. Bloomeelia? How dare you utter that name. Just hearing it fills me with such anger!" said

Ignatius.

"People will be suspicious when you shut down the watermill" said Ned.

"They'll never know I did it, fool. I am a master sorceror" explained Ignatius.

Chapter 1: The Old Country Town

My name is Taracam. Rallassa Jill Taracam. But you can call me Princess Purrbutt.

That was a test. No hard feelings, you actually can call me that, but only on Thursdays just so we're clear.

So Bloomeelia had just defeated the evil Queen Kinjil and saved her people yet again. Then I did my thing. Yeah.

Typical behavior of myself. I guess. I had swam for miles and miles relying soley upon impulse and a need for

adventure. What? You don't ever get that? You don't ever just sniff something, follow said sniff, wriggle your nose around,

shake your butt and pounce on a chance for reckless action? Yeah. You're right. Probly better if you go incognito. I tried

attaching a feather duster to my nose as a disguise. That didn't work too well as you could imagine, sneezing problems

ensued. Anyway, I finally reached a large land mass spreading out before me like that gooey stuff you put on sandwiches. Peanut butter, that's the stuff. A beautiful orange hue filled the sky as it often did in Feloriah.

Elephant spookers and pumpkin peddling pickle sitters abound, nevertheless I bravely

trudged forward into a small isolated village. Needless to say, I had a knapsack with muffins galore, you just can't leave

home muffinless. The gate was open, the peeps looked friendly, and I waltzed on in, shutting it behind me. Thwack!

Stupid gate, got my tail stuck in it. Hmm, there we go. Got it. Anyway I made my way into town and everywhere I looked

there were posters. Not just any posters. Posters that said this:

Missing in Action: The well known alchemist Bartholomew Belwaters.

Naturally I was curious as to just who this 'Bartholomew BingeBucket' really was. I asked some locals and they were sobbing.

Being of an overall kind and warm nature I handed out tissues and head pats. That's when I smelled something delicious.

Donuts. My yearning for donuts got the better of me, and I followed the scent into a building of exquisite design

and craftsmanship. In short, it was a cool flippin' building. Had a big coffee mug as the chimney with steam coming

out like tomorrow had never been invented in God's lab. I entered the establishment and was treated to a wide assortment

of candy stored in jars, and old fashioned wooden furniture, cabinets, and scrumptiously super storeage units filled to the

brim with bashfully red gorgeous gumballs gushing with goodness. It was wholesome, like pioneer heaven. And I was the pioneer.

There behind a desk was Rhotundulah. She was a middle aged lady who had helped me and Bloomy on previous outings so I asked her how she was doing.

"How's life been treating you Rhotundulah?" I asked in an angelic tone. Yeah, I'm cute like that.

"Rallassa? What are you doing here? More importantly how did you even get here? This area is so far away from

your home" said Rhotundulah. Rhotundulah seriously couldn't believe that I had ventured so far, even though I did it

frequently.

"I kind of had a thing, not a breakdown, just...a thing you know?" I told Rhotundulah. I figured this was as good

an explanation as any, and with explanations I make for things? This one was solid dynamite.

"A fling?" asked Rhotundulah. The look on her face was priceless.

"No, I had this thing where I simply HAD to get licorice root. Just hadn't indulged in it in ages you know" said Rallassa.

"I see. Well anyway, my husband still hasn't returned from the cave near the old watermill. He was a famous man you know,

hence all the posters you see everywhere" said Rhotundulah.

"So that was him was it? You know what? I suspect something. I suspect evil at work" I told Rhotundulah.

"Evil at work? What could it be?" asked Rhotundulah. I shrugged. I didn't know what kind of evil. I just sensed a

disturbance in the force. This feeling got much stronger when Rhotundulah started crying. I tried to comfort her with a hug

and Bloomy's old incense holder, but after seeing the latter and remembering the singing ghost incident,

she handed me a donut and tossed me out. I brushed off my ever so ellegant green victorian skirt of any unsightly dust or residues, checking my legs for bugs, and then looking every which way attempting to be as modest as possible about such things. You know how it is. Well, maybe you do.

I then grabbed a newspaper. Apparently this Bartholomew guy was the one who

guided my fellow Felorians and made sure they were safe from monsters when they ventured through the cave systems.

Some new dude was giving out maps that were causing people to fall into pits of goo that turned them into statues. I would call this peculiar but that doesn't do it justice. This is not a good thing. Yeah, that sounds more accurate.

Within a few seconds after checking myself for bugs, the earth began rumbling. I looked up. A giant metorite of some kind was heading towards the village. I tried to repel it with my earth and wind magic skills but I was too late. The rock struck the planet and I was sent flying into no cats land.