                  KINGS QUEST VI FULL DOCUMENTATION
		        TYPED BY CHAŽON-OGN
		       GUIDE BOOK TO THE LAND
			 OF THE GREEN ISLES



FOREWORD

Herein lies the account of my travels in that mysterious kingdom known as
the Land of the Green Isles.  Lest this record be put down to the fevered
imagination if a madman or the fiction of a notorious liar, let me assure
you, dear Reader, that the Land of the Green Isles does indeed exist.  One
can hear the name of the Land whispered in roadside inns off dusty roads
from the hills of Daventry to the sea of Tamir - especially on nights when
the wind howls and the rain plays havoc on the window panes.  The
storytellers inevitaly take on that same tone of voice they use when
speaking of the Fairy Kingdom.  I cannot vouch for the Fairy Kingdom since
i have yet to get a leprechaun in a position of compromie, yet, the Land of
the Green Isles .....
Ah! that is a place where the feet of a man can find solid ground and his
eyes feast on such wonders!.

My tale begins with a broken compass.  I had taken passage on a ship bound
east from Llewdor.  Our destination was Serenia, yet in the second week out
we encountered a terrible electricical storm.  Waves crashed upon the deck
of our little ship, the Round About and lightning struck the sea all around
her.  At one point it even struck our secondary mast and we were saved from
a fiery death only by the lashing rain which quickly put out the fire.  We
felt sure that we were all dead men, yet on we bailed and strove throughout
the night.  After long hours of the terrifying labor., we found ourselves
still afloat on the other side of the storm.  At first light, the damage
seemed minimal despite the lightning that had struck the ship, but by
sunset the Captain was forced to announce that the instruments of
navigation had been magnetized by the storm - the compass spoke east, yet
the sun sank low over the right of our prow.  
	The Captain did his best to sail by older methods, by the sun and
the stars.  He assured the voyagers that there was nothing to fear.  Yet we
seemed cursed, for a dense cloud cover settled over the sky far into the
horizon - and stayed.  The Round About sailed like a blind man groping in a
vast unfamiliar room.

After a week, the captain had to admit that we had missed out destination.
There was no land to be seen anywhere.  It was as if the storm had been
another flood that had wiped civilization from the face of the Earth.  With
naught else to do we sailed on, by now so lost that turning around seemed
futile.  Who was to say that we were not turned around already?

A month later, I lay in a fitful sleep on my bunk - throat parched and skin
stretched from the scant provisions allotted all hands from the near-empty
hold below - when i heard the cry on deck "Land Ho!" Startled from my sleep
and exhilarated with hope, I sprang to the deck.  The sky had cleared and
its blue seemed a hue I had never seen.  A sailor was wildly poiting off
the prow where the bright green of a small body of land was dimly visible.
The Round About responded as though leaping from the sea towards that
remote shore.

Yet within the hour, the curse upon our ship took its final vengence.  As
though enraged to see us withing view of esape, the sea came alive and
swirled around us.  Currents and whirlpools materialized and sucked at the
beaten planks of the ship - turning her firse one way and then another!  I
was thrown against the deck and rolled uncontrollably against the cables
and the lifeboats.  The last thing i heard before my head struck and
blackness descended was the mate screaming "She`s going Down!!!"

Who can judge providence?,  I am not a hero, I am a wandered - neither as
strong nor as brave as the Captain of the good ship.  Yet with no effort on
my part - none greater, in any event, than the skill of getting myself
knocked on the head - I awoke the following morning, not among the bones at
the bottom of the sea, but on a beach.  Of the crew and passengers of the
good ship, there was not a trace.

Perhaps I was chosen for some destiny here.  Perhaps the sea simply found
me too sour an old dog for the swallowing.  In any case, that is the tale
of how I found the Land of the Green Isles, or should i say, how it found
me.  Being but a poor traveler with feet that itch and a spirit that cannot
rest, I have naught to leave this world but a record of the things these
eyes have seen.  Being not nearly as clever as a balladeer, I set this down
in humble prose.

May this account someday find its way back to the land of my youth, though
i fear i myself shall die on this distant shore.

	DEREK KARLAVAEGEN


	                          PART I
			THE LAND OF THE GREEN ISLES

The land of the Green Isles is an ancient kingdom ruled by a royal family
designated simpl as the "Crown".  Its location so far from the rest of the
know world, combined with the dangers of the surrounding sea, have
effectively isolated it from the influence of other lands.  This smsall
kingdom might as well exist on a distant star as on the other side of an
inhospitable sea.
  Because of this isolation, the citizens of the kingdom habe a unique
flavour and a quaint naivete.  If one asks about the history of the Land,
they are eager to speak.  Yet of true answers, little can be found.  They
can recite the names of the holders of the Crown spanning back hundreds if
years, can speak each dwelling`s origin, of practically every citizen`s
lineage yet when I asked how the kingsom began, bewilderment is the
response.  "The Kingdom has always been." they say, "There has always been
a royal family."  It is as if this place has existed, unaltered since the
dawn of time.
	But there is some basis for a different picture: that these islands
have actually held a succession of kingdoms, each bleeding into the next,
new civilizations building on ruins scarcely cold.  I base this opinion on
the traces and legends of an anciennt civilization to be found on one of
the islands - but more of that more later.

The kingdom as it stands todat, has remainded relaticely unchanged for
hundreds of years.  Fours islands make up the bulk of the Land.  The Isle
of the Crown is the center of the kingdom.  There on a magnificent rise
stands the Castle of the Crown. the seat of the royal family of the kingdom
and the heart of the Land.  A village and docks comprise the rest of the
island and run most of the kingdom`s daily commerce, such as it is.

Across a short distance of sea is the Isle of Wonder, an aptly-named place
of sheer delight ruled by a pair of rival queens who are, despite their own
internal strife, unalterably loyal to the Crown.

	The isle of the Beast is the least hospitble of the islands.
Seemingly deserted, I did not see much if the place since obstacles made it
impossible to travel far inland.  Nevertheless, the place has its own
history and is listed among the kingdom`s holdings.

The fourth island is the isle of the Sacred Mountain, so called for the
soaring peak that rises from the base of the island into the clouds, and
around which that community - both literally and philosophically - is
built.  The Isle of the Sacred Mountain has its own rulers who are also
subservient to the Crown.

A more dissimilar set cutlures can scarce be imagined than those on these
four islands, yet they seem to exist in harmony and function as a whole.
The uniting factor is the Crown, which maintains loyalty both by means of
its undisputed heritage as the seat of all government and by the grace of
its goddly royal family.
	Peace has reigned for centuries in this idyllis kingdom and seems
likely to continue,   That is as long as the Land remanins hidden from the
evil that we know exists in the world.  Though i am a stranger gere, I hope
not to influence this place overly much.  Why would wish to change such a
paradise?.

			PART II
			THE ISLE OF THE CROWN

Of the four islands, the Isle of the Crown is the one which will semm the
most conventional to travelers from distant lands.  It is largely inhabited
by members of the human race, men and women of pleasant dispostion and
generous hospitality.  As stated earlier, the Isle of the Crown is
cdomprised of the Castle of the Crown, a quaint village, and the docks from
which travel among the islands is commenced.

	THE VILLAGE
The village on the Isle of the Crown is a small one.  Its stucco walls
gleam in the hot sun, its dirt paths are clean and well-maintained, its
vegetation is luch.  The shop merchants are friendly and seem to delight in
unusual trades,  Though little of mine survived the shipwreck, the few
trinkets that i`d had on my person or managed to salvage from the shore
were deemed unusual enough in that distant realm to obtain a few
necessities.  I also found the villagers eager too share what they had in
return for honest work, so i have survived quite comfortably here.
	Village life is one of cheerful routine.  The villagers rise at
first light to do their chores before the tropical sun reaches its peak.
Then a light midday meal is served.  The bulk of the afternoon if reserved
for indoor activities::
reading and scholastics for the the younger population and naps or their
elders.  Everyone seems to prize this quiet time.  When the sun goes down,
communal acitivities are frequent.  If there are no weddings or other
festivities (I must admit that I am quite fond of these local
celebrations),the families often gather informally for a plain but
plentifule supper, music, and conversation.

	Though most families are modest, none are in want. Servants are
used in the more affluenent households, but mose of the citizens
cheerfully rely on their own strong hands for the work of daily life.  What
serving class exists is generally well-treated, though even in this gentle
civilization, i did not a few exceptions.

	THE DECKS

Beyond the village lie the docks, a place of bustle and excitement,  Even
the humblest citizen of the Isle of the Crown frequently enjoys visiting
the other islands in the kingdom.  In return, it is not uncommon to sell
all manner of strange creatures frequnting the village shops from the
kingdom`s other islands.
All travel between the Islands is focused at the docks and, indeed at a
single vessel,  That vessel is simply called "the Ferry" and it is a
pleasant enough little ship, well-maintained as befits its value to the
kingdom.  The ferryman is a jolly fellow, patient even with the youngest if
his passengers.  His young son helps manage the vessel and helps keep her
shipshape.

	The story of the ferry is an interseting one, particualrly if you
recall the fate of my own ship.  The islands, it seems, have always been
surrounded by terrible eddies and currents that make seagoing nearly
impossible.  The family that runs the ferry has done so for generations,
each father passing on to his son the secret of the tricky navigation.
Many believe that the ferryman`s family line has an uncanny instinct for
the sea around the isles.  It is said that they sail " by the blood in
their veins".  One thing is certain: I would not venture to sail a ship in
these waters, so whatever the secrets of the ferryman`s family- thank the
stars for it!!!

	THE CASTLE OF THE CROWN

The castle of the crown is a stunning palace, giving testimony to the skill
of the kingdom`s architexts and the richeness of its treasury/  The castle
is a monument of marble, gold and precious gems, with tall arched ceilings
and atistic fittings.  I am told that it was built one hundred years ago by
King Aliphid as a present to his bride.  It is said that King Aliphid was
cautious over his new brides fragile health and built the new palace with
thick walls for protection from the high winds and cool hallways always for
respite from the blazing tropical sun.  The sun is made even more exotic by
the race of guard dogs that serve and protect the palace.  These wonderous
creatures seem to combine the best qualities of canine and human.  Speaking
in gruff voices and armed with swords or pikes, the guard dogs are strong
and intelligent, And have loyally served the crown through the centuries.
Despite my status as a stranger i was granted a visit with the reigning
king and queen.  There openess ad accessibility, added to the lack of
drawbridges, moats, or battlements of any kind, make clear to me that
innocence of this kingdom that had never known war or treachery.
Had i been a viper in disguise, i would have been granted an intimate
audience just as readily! As a citizen of the larger, more dangerous world,
it may me me feel a little nervous and honorbound not to betray such trust
in me.  I met the king and queen in the castles throne room.  The throne
room is a vast hall more ornate then anything these poor eyes have ever
seen.  Standing before the two thrones in that cavern of gold, it felt as
though i stood before fabled olympus itself.  Yet, raising my eyes up
slowly to those noble faces, i saw nothing of judgement in their eyes,
nothing of disdain, indeed, there faces were full of guileness,welcome and
kindness.  As for the rulers of this kingdom themselves : King Caliphim,
though not a large man, as an air of strength and self assurance about him.
He has the face of a scholar and the eyes of a gentle benefactor.
Of queen ALLARIA, ihis beautiful wife , my first impression was of hair the
colour of night and skin as pale as dawn.  She smiled at me graciously and
i could see the sadness there.  For despite the glory of the palace aroun
them, the halls seem to weigh on the couple with there emptiness.  
Having met the royal couple and recover sufficentiently from my ordeal at
sea, i began to fell right curious about the other islands in the kingdom,
and so i put my itching feet in the care of the jolly ferryman.

			PART III

                     THE ISLE OF WONDER

Imagine a place where the very path benaeath your feet might complain of
you`re weight, and the trees purposely drop twigs on you`re head for the
sheer merriment of it all!., And you`ll have an idea of what its like to be
on the isle of wonder.  The isle of wonder is a comma shaped body of land
that might has well resemble a question mark, for confusion and
astonsihment are sure to be a lot of the unexpecting visitors.
The island is teeming with life.  Vegetation is abundant as are the islands
inhabitatants.  Infact, the two are frequently the one and the same.
One can scarcly pick up a grain of sand on that shore without it demanding
to be put back ... and this instant, if you please.  The histosry of this
unsual island is an issue fervent speculation.  That it was an
uninteresting deserted island until a wizard enchanted the whole place,
bringing everything in it to life, and presented it to his daughter as a
birthday present.  Others say that the island was once a prison of a
beutiful princess, her captive there by powerfulo and jealous queen.
The maiden was so far that the very trees and stones themselves could not
bear to hear her crying, and come to life to provide her companionship.
Still another group idently claims that the creator of the universe simply
got tired of serious business of life giving and decided to indulge he`s or
her sense of humour. Whatever the origin, the more delightful spot could
scarcly be imagined.  But be warned those travellers who like to know,
exactly what to expect from life would be well advised to go elsewhere.
Whilst most of the islands inhabitants are friendly. some of the thornier
natives are capable of being downright rude!, and all are quirlksome .
Vistiors are frequent on the Isle of Wonder for it offers a refreshing
respite from the ho-hum of everday life.  Even the King and Queen enjoy a
picnic or exclamation point or a stroll in the gardens, and they are on
occasion to be found relaxing and passing the time of day with the islands
natives.
The rulers of the Isle of Wonder are a pair of queens(ICON AND TANGO),
rivals in every way, and most frequently to be found argueing over
everything from the colour of the sky to the consistency of potato hash.
Despite their essentricities, the Isle of Wonder, seems to run smoothly and
be a flourishing part of the kingdom, providing many available exports and
lending the kingdom a light heartness to counter the more serious
countrymen on the the isle of the sacred mountain.

			   PART IV
		THE ISLE OF THE SACRED MOUNTAIN

The Isle of the Sacred Mountain, on first impression, appears to be nothing
but a great wall of cliffs rising to the sky with no apparent means of
scaling it.  The visitor is soon met, however, by a pair of "greeters" of
the Winged Ones race.
	The Winged Ones are the inhabitamts of the Isle of the Sacred
Mountain.  Towering to a height of six to seven feet, the Winged Ones are
by far the most impressive creatures I have ever seen.  Each one them, male
and female alike, is surpassingly beautiful.  Their bodies are muscled and
athletic and gleaming with health.  From their broad backs mighty wing
emerge like secondary limbs, strong and webbed, and covered with large
white feathers.  And when they spread those massive wings..oh!... it is as
if the sun itself is eclipsed.
	Two of these creatures, the greeter, meet visitors at the base of
the cliffs and so was I met.  Gently, they took my arms and flew me
upwards.  Has there not been a man who has dreamed of flying?  Are we all
not Icarus in our heart of heart?.  Imagine then, the thrill of that flight
and the glory of the beings who rule the very air around us!
	But as the saw warns, "Beauty is only skin deep."  I was flown to
the Winged Ones city, a strange and haunting place whose architecture
combines the two overriding elements of this culture: aviation and the
classical.  The city seems built to exclude those poor creatures whose lot
it is to crawl like insects upon the ground, for each edifice towers into
the sky with ni connection to the next or to the ground itself save by
flight.
	Thus completely dependent on the greeters to travel about the city
or even leave, the visitor is humbled and loathe to much exploration.  This
appeared to me to be rather the intention, for the culture of the Winged
Ones is a private one.  On the Isle of Wonder I always felt welcome,
despite the sometimes gruff nature of the inhabitants.  They had a certain
simplicity, on honesty about them.  By contrast, although my reception with
the Winged Ones was on the surface extremly polite, the formal words of
welcome did not ring true.  I sensed, in the eyes of that beauteous race, a
disdain of common humanity, a haughtiness that made them suddenky kise sime
if their golden perfection in the eyes of this humble observer.
	Despite this innate sense of superiority, the Winged Ones are
valuable members of the kingdom and provide many important skills.
Incredibly intelligent, the Winged Ones are master logicians and
mathematicians, precise architects and planners.  They disdain magic and
the daintier arts, being far too logical for such goings on.  Even the
palace of the Winged Ones city has a sparseness, a sense of functionality
that denotes their contempt for artistic ornamentation.
	The Winged Ones culture is an old, and they make frequent
references to the "Ancient Ones," their forefathers, whose ruins and great
works will abound on the island.  The Isle of the Sacred Mountain is ruled
by a lord and lady, who exist as monarchs on their own island but owe
allegience to the common Crown.
	The name of the island derives from a lone peak which soars into
the clouds beyond the city.  There, in a cave, dwells the sacred Oracle,
the philosophical head of the community.  It is said that the Oracle is
centuries old, ultimately wise and can read the future.  She is consulted
by the lord and lady on every facet of the city`s list, and even advises
the king and queen.  I, of course, did not meet the Oracle, and even most
Winged Ones citizens regard her as an almost mythical being.  The greatest
honor any Winged Ones citizen might hope for in his or her long life is to
be granted a meeting with the Oracle, for her cave is a place reserved for
only the most worthy souls.  Like many lofty ambitions, most of the Winged
Ones never achieve this end.
	I found myself fascinated by the Ancient Ones, for it was the only
deep history apparent in the kingdom.  From what I managed to learn from
the close-mouthed Winged Ones themelves, and from the more readily
available information to be found in the writings and from scholars on the
Isle of the Crown.  I put together the following picture of this bygone
race.  I include it among these records of the kingdom,  for they are as
much a presence in the Land as the current inhabitants.

			   PART V
		     THE ANCIENT ONES

The Ancient Ones culture inhabited the Isle of the Sacred Mountain perhaps
as much as a thousand years ago.  At that time, it is likely that there was
no "Kingdom" and that the Ancient Ones existed alone in the sea, since no
similarly aged records exist on any other island.
	The Ancient Ones had an advanced\, mysterious culture.  Their
writings have been discovered on ancient tablets and scrolls buried beneath
the current Winged Ones city, and in the ancient catacombs on the Isle of
the Sacred Mountain.  It is commonly believed that they possessed knowledge
and mechanical acuity for surpassing anything that exists today.  This
belief is based on a few remaining artifacts such as their mysterious
labryinthine catacombs and the writings on the island`s cliffs.  The
artifacts of the Ancient Ones are fiercly guarded by the Winged Ones and
are studied by scholars of that race who spend their whold lives trying to
unravel their mysteries.  What is known about them derives from these
delicate and treasured written records.
	The Ancient Ones were believers in the power of language.  They
were fond of saying, "A master of languages will soar" This, presumably
refers to intellectual heights rather than physical ones, but who can say?
It is also known that they were great lovers of symbols and had a complex
theologyy which seemed to worship all things aerial, though only fragments
of their belief system are understood today.  The Ancient Ones gave meaning
to every creature, every colour, every element and mineral.  In addition,
they studied the emotional states of being.  Every emotion, like every
creature, color, and element, ranked high or low on their theological
scale - the lowest being "base" or "primitive," the highest being "pure."
At the top this scale were the Sacred  Four; the emotion "tranquility", the
colour "azure," the creature "caterpillar," and the element "air."  The
colour azure and the element air are obvious allusions to the sky.
Similary, tranquility is reminiscent of the heavens above.  The caterpillar
is the one surprise.  In their reasoning, however, it makes perfect sense.
After all, there are birds aplenty in the skies, but what glory is it to
fly when one is born with wings?.  Is it not more glorious still to be born
to crawl upon the ground and build one`s own wings?

THE LOGIC CLIFFS

One of the most intriguing artifacts left by the Ancient Ones are the logic
cliffs.  The cliffs are so named from a series of riddles written on the
face of the cliffs leading from the beach of the Isle of the Sacred
Mountain to the Winged Ones city.  Chiseled painstakingly into solid rock,
the viewer must question what purpose the words serve.  From the ancient
scroll that references the cliffs, it can be determined that the riddles on
the cliff were part of an elaborate mechanism designed to protect those who
dwelt at the top the cliffs from undesirables that might arrive from the
sea below.  The mechanism may have served as some sort of calling device
designed to alert those at the top of the cliffs that a brother required
admittance, or perhaps led to secret chambers within the rock itself.
Whatever the cliffs purpose was, it was obviously built to admit only those
indoctrinated into the secrets of the Ancient Ones culture and for that
reason is alas, as yet unsolved by those who live today.
	The following translations from the cliffs of logic scroll may help
the reader understand the mystiqaue that surrounds this artifact.

The first challenge "Only those pure of heart will be able to RISE the
cliffs of logic"
The third(?) challenge: "The stones of stealth, are associated with this
riddle:

	Four men standing in a row,
	Third from the left and down you go,
	The rest in order,move you on,
	The Youngest, the Oldest and the Second Son.

The fifth challenge: "Only those of the highest order may ASCEND the cliffs
of logic"

THE CATACOMBS
Another remnant of the Ancient Ones culture, the catacombs, is tragically
inaccessible to visitors today.  The catacombs held the burial chambers of
the Ancient Ones, and are said to be designed as a giant labyrinth.  To
protect their tombs from looters, the Ancient Ones built death traps into
the catacombs and filled it with dead-end paths, maze-like corridors, and
rooms where secret knowledge is needed to pass.
	The Winged Ones were close to mastering the secrets of the
catacombs some years ago, when a minotaur taking an instant liking to the
dark funereal place, decided to take up residence.  At first, the Kingdom
attempted to regain the hostaged artifact, but, between the dangers of the
catacombs itself and the minotaur`s stealth and treachery, the losses
became too grave to continue the struggle and the minotaur was left to his
prize.  Since then, the catacombs have been bolted shut.  It is one of the
great sorrows of the kingdom that each year the minotaur demands, and must
be given, the living sacrifice of his choice lest he emerge from the
catacombs and attack the city.

	The catacombs are illustrative of the Ancient Ones obsessive
interest in death.  Indeed, it seems to be in the air in this part of the
world, for the modern-day Green Islanders also have elaborate death
traditions, as I will describe later.  The catacombs were obviously a place
high reverence for the Ancient Ones, as a message on an ancient tablet that
once adorned the doors to the catacombs shows:
	Three roses laid upon the bower,
	A scythe for he who cuts the flower,
	A crown, a dove, most noble race!
	Thy bones make sacred this dread place.


			   PART VI
                     THE ISLE OF THE BEAST

The Isle of the Beast, long ago, was called the Isle of the Forest.  It was
a place of woodlands, sparkling ponds, and prolific wildlife.  It used as a
playground favored for jaunty hunts by the royal family and other local
sportsmen, and for that reason was left unihabited.  The scenes of this
treasure diversion on that beautiful island still decorate local tapestries
and paintings.  One night, so the story goes, residents of the other
islands could see magical lights around the Isle of the Forest.  The next
day the king, then King Aliphim, led his guards over to the island to
investigate (and, of course, to junt if all proved well).  They found the
island much changed.  The forest had grown so dense overnight as to prove
impenetrable save by a single path blocked by mysterioud obstacles.  And,
most mysteriously of all the heart-rending cries of some mighty wild beast
echoed on and on throughout the forest.  It is said that several guards
fell into madness immediatly at the sound and that King Aliphim himself was
haunted to the end of his days by the echo of those cries.
Since that time, the island has taken its new name and has remained
unpenetrated and undisturbed, in the midst of the kingdom`s teeming life.

			
		            PART VII
           LEGENDS AND MYTHS OF THE LAND OF THE GREEN ISLES

Through long nights spent before the fire with my companions on the Isle of
the Crown, I learned that the Green Islanders are famous story-weavers.  To
me, nothing speaks more of a people than the tales they tell, for they are
woven with the fears, the hopes and the dreams of the culture.  For your
enlightenment and entertainment,  I set forth some of the more interesting
of these legends and myths here.

	HIDDEN ISLANDS AND OTHER WORLDS
Every land has its tales of hidden places: lost caverns, underground
treasure rooms, and secret kingdoms accessible only through some ancient
oak tree.  The Land of the Green Isles is no exception.  Here, as might be
imagined, the hidden places take the form of islands hidden in the mists
and of what might lie beyond in the sea.
	One popular tale seems to reflect the universal myths of harvest
and planting.  It is said that nearby exists a hidden island of priestly
inhabitants who worship Mother Earth.  These priests keep the weather and
the tides in balance to insure safety from hurricanes and other forces of
the sea and to plead continuance for the kingdom`s bounty.  It is said that
these priests demand privacy above all and that they remain loyal to the
Crown in exchange for secrecy.  What a wonderfully conspiratorial tale!
	The Green Islanders are also fond of saying that the unpassable
currents in the seas around the kingdom are there as a warning - to keep
all ships from sailing further east.  For it is believed that within a
day`s sail in that direction a ship strong enough and foolhardy enough to
survive the tempest seas would encounter the edge of the world!
	"What lies beyond the edge of the world," I asked "why, the next
world." they replied, and with fearful glances at one another, quickly
changed the subject.
	DEATH TRADITIONS
Death fascinates men the world round, and there are as many philosophies
about what comes after this life as there, it seems, live which end.  I
found the Green Islanders to all share a common belief, so strongly held as
to seem to defy questioning.
The family of the deceased hold funeral ceremonies a few days after death
to bid the soul of their loved on safe passage to the Realm if the Dead.
The decesed is buried with the things he or she will need for the journey.
The realm of the Dead is a place not of this world.  There Death himself
rules.  Some call him the Lord of Dead, others call him Samhain.  Those
souls who have died at peace with their lives allowed to enter the
Underworld and are placed in the Sea of Souls.  In that safe repository,
they are greeted by ultimate knowledge and are prepared for the next
stage.  Those souls, however who died with unresolved trauma in their
humqan lives cannot enter the underworld but are consigned to wander
endlessly on the surface of the Realm, chained there by their woes.
Sometimes, their life`s problems will be resolved in the real world without
them - justice meted out, or loved ones taken care of - and they are freed
from their bonds and gratefully go below.  More often, however, things are
never resolved in the real world and the bonded souls, over time, become
part of the mindless dead roam the surface eternally, never to know peace
or be allowed to move on.  This belief system deeply affects the lives of
the Green Islanders, and is, in my estimation, the root of their peaceful
lives and their aversion for friction and infighting, greed and anxiety.
Certainly as a man or woman approaches old aga or infirmity, he or she
strives to resolve any loose ends in their lives in preparation for the
journey ahead.

	GENIES
In Daventry, the poor man` idea of a great tale involved a tradesman or
poor farmer falling in with a fairy and thus gaining a fortune overnight.
How many wild-eyed dreamers have spent their days searching out such
instant prosperity instead pf buckling down and taking the long road to
that end? hah!  It is a tale this wanderer has heard all too often!
	Here in the Land of the Green Isles there are no fewer dreamers,
but they speak not of fairies but of the djinn, of genies.  A genie is an
even greater temptation for the aspiring soul than ever a Daventry fairy,
for a genie does not simply turn a one-time favor; however grea, and then
be done with it.  No, a genie, like a faithful dog, belongs to its owner
for life - or, that is, for however long the fortunate "master" might keep
hold of the creatures lamp.
	It seems every Green Islander knows the ins and outs of the djinn,
though few have ever seen one.  According to the stated "rules", each genie
is immortal and each is permanently attached to a given lamp in which they
might or might not be trapped for long centuries depending on the whims of
their owner or fate.  Once the lamp comes into the possession of a man or
woman that person becomes the genie`s master and must be obeyed,  Genies
are very valuable creatures and can do a variety of tricks including
transporting a man anywhere on earth, taking any shape the master might
wish, and, of course, the ever-popular gathering of great treasures and
wealth.  A genie does have some limitations, however: it cannot cure ills,
change the weather or bring back the dead.  And a genie always has a
weakness.
A genie is also bound to its master in other ways.  It is said that a genie
is like a mirror; it only reflects its master`s will.  If a master is evil
minded and cruel , the genie will be also.  If a master is generous and
kind, so will be the genie.
One of the mostg popular genie stories is the following one about a genie
named Mali Mellin.
	THE STORY OF MALI MELLIN
Mali Mellin was a genie with a terrible weakness for mistletoe berries
(although the same are poisonous to humans).  He had been trapped for a few
thousand years in a crusty old lamp after being buried with his possessive
master.  One day a poor farmer uncovered the lamp while plowing a field.
The farmer, being ignorant took the lamp at once to his wife, and she,
being no more intelligent than he cleaned the outside brusquely without
ever opening the lid.  The pair took the lamp to market to sell for a few
pence.
The lamp was purchase by a antiquities dealer, who, being equally lazy,
never bothered to open the thing.  (this tale continues on in this manner,
passing through a dozen or so hands, much to the increased hilarity of the
local listeners who seem to find this the largest joke they have ever
heard.  But, to move on....) Finally the lamp was purchased by a poor
maiden named Daltina, who desired only a little warmth and light but for
ailing mother.  Daltina took the lamp home and opened it at once in order
to fill it with oil and a wick.  But instead of dust, a cloud of smoke
issued forth from the open lamp and Mali Mellin appeared.  The girl was
overcome with fear, but Mali Mellin finally persuaded the poor thing that
she was in no danger, and , indeed, could now have anything she wished for.
In the next few months, Daltina and her mother went from being poor, sickly
outcasts, to being well to do.  The poor house became a fine mansion and
there garden blossomed.  The girl, with the flush of prosperity in her
cheeks, Mali Mellin, of course, was furnished with all the mistletoe
berries he could eat.  But on one thing, Daltina followed the advice of her
mother, never tell anyone of the lamp, she warned, for we are but two lone 
women in the world and would be no match for those who would wish to steal
our treasure.  Several years passed this way, and Daltina was content.
Every night Mali Mellin would ask her, "what more do you wish?" and Daltina
would reply "nothing.  I have all that i want."  Then, one day, a
procession rode through the village.  Riding at the head was a prince, the
most handsome man that the girl had every seen.  That night, Mali Mellin
asked "What more do you wish?" the girl was silent for a moment, thinking
"who am i to wish such a thing?" and "he should marry a princess." But her
heart, never before touched, clammered to loudly for her to hear her own
wisdom and so she whispered, "i wish for the prince."  The next day the
prince rode back to the village with haunted eyes.  He had seen the girl in
a dream and was sick with love.  Within weeks, the two were married.  But
the prince was not as good as he appeared he wanted things: more wealth,
more land, more of everything.  When he mooned about for these things, the
girl felt pity in her love and would in secret go to her lamp and call
forth Mali Mellin to achieve her loves desires.  At first, the prince was
amazed at his wife`s powers and intuition.  After a time, however, the
prince grew suspicious of his wifes seeemingly magical abilities.  One
night, he lamented long about a certain gold sword he must have  that hung
in a nearby castle.  He pretended to go to sleep, and heard Daltina slip
out.  In silence, he followed down a corridor to her mothers room and there
spied upon her as she called Mali Mellin from the lamp and, offer it some
pretty mistletoe, asked her boon.  "Mali Mellin," Daltina said, "there is a
sword of gold ten leagues from here.  Have it delivered to my husband in
the morning as a gift of tribute."  To which, Mali Mellin replied, "yes,
master."  The next morning, a courier arrived with the sword, just as Mali
Mellin had promised.  "How marvellous," the prince thought, "to have a wife
with such a powerful genie!"  Then he thought "How much more  marvelous to
possess the genie myself!"  And so that very night the prince waited until
Daltina slept, then snuck into his mother-in-laws chambers and removed the
lamp from the trunk as he had seen his wife do.  Seized with excitement he
hastened to his armory and pulled the lid from the lamp.  Mali Mellin
appeared "yes master," the genie twittered, with a new malicious grin on
its face.  "You are MY genie now " said the prince " and shall do only as i
wish"  "of course master," said Mali Mellin, " but how about some
mistletoe?"
The next day the girl awoke to find the prince in possession of the lamp.
Despite her pleadings that she be allowed to control the dangerous
creature, the prince refused to give it back.  And oh what the prince did
with that lamp!.  Whereas before the girl had indulged his desires
conservatively, the prince with lamp knew no bounds.  He kept Mali Mellin
rushing to fulfill his wishes until the rooms of the castle were heaping
with gold and jewels.  His enemies lay slaughtered on the fields without
provocation.  Mali Mellins wicked face now became like a demon`s in the
land, a demon who stole and laid scourge to everything.
Finally the girl could stand no more.  The flame of her love for the prince
was douse by bitter tears.  One night, she drugged the prince`s wine and
when he fell into a deep sleep, took the lamp from his grasp.  She called
forth the genie once more, and, sadly, had Mali Mellin carry the prince off
to a distant and deserted land where he could trouble no one ever again.
With the prince gone and Mali Mellin back to his good-natured self ,
Daltina restored the broken land and reigned as a benign (if rather
meloncholy) queen for many years thereafter - reaping, always plentiful
harvest of mistletoe.


			PART VIII

			POSTSCRIPT

So concludes my records on the Land of the Green Isles.  I have been well
treated here and have become rich in friends, in knowledge and in countless
other blessings.  Though i have found my spirit forlorn at times with my
inability to travel on, i must admit that my feet have itched less here
than anywhere else in this wide world.  Still on occasion, I find my mind
roving back to the green hulls of Daventry.  Perhaps, if my spirit at least
is allowed to roam free, I`ve yet to see them soon.

To those who may someday follow in my footsteps, I say this; Be kind to
this gentle land, be open hearted to her whimsy and protect her, if you can
from the harsh winds which might wish to blow in from the sea to steal her
soul.  She is unlike any place i have ever seen and she has stolen my
heart.

			TYPED BY CHAŽON-OGN