The scholar, Duriel, the one with the funny hat, told me to archive everything that goes on down here in the town. Now I ain’t no writer, no one in this working man’s town is, but even I can tell this is gonna be difficult. Am I supposed to write it out, like I’m telling a story to someone? Or do I just list what’s happening?

- massive wildebeest type creatures have appeared out of the aether, replacing our pets

- the muscle beasts, ‘moose’ the pointy hats call em, have calmed down

- the mooses have taken up residence in various homes and businesses

- they are extremely territorial, it turns out

- the saloon started to float a couple hundred feet off the ground, full of people

- a train

- Jeff is… Well, it’s hard to explain on paper.

Nope, that way just doesn’t feel right. Story form it is. But how does one tell a well-structured story, when life is absolute chaos? I doubt even your academics could answer that. I’ll try to start from the beginning.

I once had a loving ferret named Spare Belt, Sbelt for short, until one day he was taken from me. Those heartless wizards of yours screwed it all up, and instead of creating new ‘soul pets’ for the youngest generation, you killed every other pet in town. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they turned every single corpse into hulking wildebeests, those blasted brutes of meat and muscle you call moose. Can you even imagine that afternoon? One moment you’re chatting up your neighbour with your beloved ferret running around the yard and his lizard resting on top of his shoulder, and the next moment they’re dead? And the next next moment your neighbour is crushed to death under the weight of a half-ton pound moose, which seconds ago was a sunbathing gecko? No, I bet you can’t.

Anyway, after shattering three of my ribs, breaking every wall in my home, and potentially trapping aunt Jenna in the basement, the moose calmed down. Seemingly, they all calmed down, all hundred plus, which I take it was your doing. Well, thanks for that. What I’m none too thankful for however is that now they’ve taken up residence in our homes. And they won’t leave. At the same time, the saloon, which was a safe haven while the mooses went on their rampage, began to soar high into the sky. It’s full of people, my brother and his wife included, and it hasn’t come down. Oh, and there is a hole radiating a dim green beneath where the saloon sat, presumably straight to Hell. Or whatever else you lot think is down there.

Now you know as well as I do that we don’t have a train station and I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with this already. A train pulled up with a single passenger onboard, the first time that has happened as far as I’m aware. So far the newcomer has given us no trouble, but you should probably take a look at em as soon as you get your affairs in order. Oh, and the train brought a station with it. And tracks. I would celebrate our newfound rail system, had the train cars not disappeared moments after the newcomer stepped out. She goes by Ranger.

And last but certainly least, Jeff. The resident academic-turned-cowpoke himself. Now you know I’ve never liked the guy none too much, try as he might he’s never been able to fit in down here and truthfully we all wished he would just go back up to the academy. But as soon as the moose incident began, he started to change. Plenty of mutations crop up all the time, so we paid it no mind when a third eye opened up on his forehead. In fact, he was quite happy about it. Started screaming about how “my third eye has opened” and “I see through Her, hear my call, all you insignificant cattle.” None too different than how he usually acts, as I’m sure you recall. But now… You’re gonna want to bring doc Gladium down here. His skin is a black ooze that has no depth, it almost looks like you could walk into him, like a door to outer space. And his face… I don’t want to think about it, you’ll just have to take my word for it. He did stop screaming thank the Lord, on account of his mouth being gone. Now he just idly walks around town, groaning. We all avoid touching him though, just in case my door theory isn’t far off base. I’m certain I’m forgetting something still… I’ll update this letter before sending it off if I remember. Yours sincerely, Ryker D. Salsbery, Custodian of Southtown.

P.S. I remembered! The academy is gone. So, I honestly don’t know where the carrier crow is going to be taking this. But your academy, the one the size of the entire town, just up and disappeared during the chaos. Here’s hoping you’re alive, unless you left us with reality unfolding as I write this. In which case, you haven’t seen the last of us. Love and respect, Ryker D. Salsbery.