An events post written for the Thornwatch:

The Wyrdling is a mighty beast, transformed by the Glomdoring from what it once was; a small furrikin, frail and frightened.  Thus was born a creature which is an ultimate symbol of the Glomdoring's power, and it is imbued with that self-same strength-- it can bend many other things to the Glomdoring's purposes.

Yet even the mightiest of beasts can fall.

The Glomdoring will not release such a servant willingly, however.  Not even death can free it from its tah'vrai; while the corpse of the Wyrdling itself remains in its lair, curled up in death, a small furry creature known as "Gibber" can be found roaming amongst the trees.  Its mind is gone, and it hungers for the bounty of the Wyrd, which will return it to its rightful place once more.

The Wyrdling's return requires that the Glomdoring promptly act to rectify matters should the worst come to pass.  It is essential that we of the Thornwatch know what to do, for the Wyrdling must be restored as quickly as possible to his full strength, lest more damage follow.

Towards this end, some years ago, a small creature was brought to the Glomdoring to re-enact this rite in Gibber's stead.  A squirrel, young, and constantly chittering in fear for it knew not what its future held.  The Thornwatch gathered around it, called to action by the fel'Greev and the dae'Nehvias-- Aurik, Gurashi, Kyalrhin, and Pip, all eager to throw themselves at the task for which they were summoned.

Banding together, the Thornwatch sought out the sporegrass around the Glomdoring.  Cutting down as much as they could find, they brought it all back, and into the squirrel the grass was stuffed.  Its chittering diminished, as its body twisted, but this was surely not enough for our needs.

Next, loamadores were pursued wherever they hid, both in the forest above and hanging within the tunnels below.  All were gathered, and rendered down into a slurry which could be stuffed into our captive.  As it feasted, its body grew further, its hair falling out and skin turning dark and scaled.

Thornbeasts were collected next, and they too were fed into the beast, now the size of a dog.  Its skin cracked as wings forming upon its back, and its teeth grew sharp and fierce.  Violet vines erupted from its scales scales, fiercely barbed like the thornbeasts themselves.

For the penultimate step, oozes were demanded, a thick putrid beverage with which to wash down the feast that came before.  By now, the once-squirrel ravenously devoured whatever was placed before it, without hesitation-- its transformation nearly complete as it became ever more closely bonded to the Glomdoring.  A dark ooze began to seep from its body where the thorns pierced its skin, and it cried out in ecstasy, eager for what came next.  

Finally, one grotesque ravenwood tree was fed to it, and it grew further, the vines tightening against its body as it swelled in size to that of a direwolf.  The Thornwatch, through our combined efforts, re-created the steps through which the Wyrdling itself was born, and now within our maze resides a second Wyrdling, much smaller than its namesake, but no less fierce for that.

What does the future hold for this creation of ours?  We shall see, as the years pass.  For now, it stands as testament to the Thornwatch and our purpose-- securing knowledge, to ensure that it never be lost and that the Glomdoring ever thrives.

Xenthos An'Ryshe