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"Reporting for Hail Our Merciful And Just Queen Please Don't Slaughter Us News, I am now live at the center of Chittentown, where there has been a sudden and abrupt stoppage of all water and water-based services. As you can see, citizens are currently coping with this disaster in various different ways, from packing up and leaving, to looting each other's water reserves. Not only has the public water system completely failed the trolls here, but even private wells are turning up dry. Our glorious ruler maysheliveforever has already sent five teams of trolls into the city's sewers and surrounding cavern systems, but so far we have no reports back on what exactly is going on. As you all know, Chittentown is a dry city in the best of times, and right now citizens are being tested to their limits! As always, some trolls are quick to claim WACKY miss-use, but royal sources claim that the WACKY project was fully halted after the previous disaster. While the military is shipping in water, none of it is available for citizens, which of course, is totally understandable and the right choice. However, some trolls are beginning to put together emergency deliveries, and of course, charging a premium price. If you want to get rich quick, this reporter would advise filling your shoes with water and trekking out to make a killing."

ROYAL PAMPHLET / PATH 1
A bulletin has been nailed to the front of your hive. Rude.

CIVILIAN ID# [a long string of numbers has been stamped here]
YOU ARE REQUISITIONED BY HER MAJESTY QUEEN REGINA TO PARTICIPATE IN RELIEF EFFORTS AT [the address of the chittentown military base has been stamped here]. IN THANKS FOR YOUR PREVIOUS EFFORTS DURING EVENTS RELATED TO [if your troll has participated in any other events where they assisted the military, they have been scribbled by hand here] YOU WILL BE ISSUED A TAX REFUND OF [a random number has been scribbed in the same handwriting as before] BEETLES. IN ADDITION, ANY NEW RECRUITS BROUGHT IN WILL BE ELIGIBLE FOR FUTURE DISPENSATIONS.

SCENTED LETTER / PATH 2
If your troll has participated in the 2012 Mother Grub meta event, as you pull the pamphlet off your door, a letter that has been wedged in between slips to the floor. It is addressed to you, by name, in jade green ink.

Hello my dear!
You do not know me, but I have been watching you with interest for quite some time. You seem to be a trustworthy troll, and now I ask for that trust in return. Seek me out, and I will provide you with secrets both fascinating and enlightening. Please forgive me if I am somewhat difficult to locate, but I must keep myself protected. Should you be interested in learning more from me, all you need to do is decipher the riddles written below, and follow the instructions given. By all means, bring others as well. As long as they can solve my riddle, all friends of yours are welcome!

I wish you the best of luck,
Vrykol Aakaas❦

CODED SCRAP / PATH 3
Your troll finds this rolled up and left in an unobtrusive place in their hive, if they have previously sided with the rebels in any other meta.

Brother/sister of the rebellion, you are asked to give help. We have every reason to believe that the oppressive dictatorship has once again been abusing both its power and the trust of its citizens. This so called 'mysterious drought' in Chittentown has EVERY CHANCE of being a newly built Weather And Cloud Kinesis Yoohicky (WACKY) device, intended yet again to force lowbloods out of their beloved city. If you are prepared to stand for our cause, come to our weekly gathering. You know where, at you know when. As always, it will be dangerous.

Showing up to the location written on the letter, you see large crowds already gathering. Most, like you, carry the form that you pulled off your hive's door, while others give the impression that they are definitely not here out of personal choice. Tough looking trolls in military uniforms stand around, barking orders through megaphones and trying to keep order. Soon you and the trolls around you are separated from the rest and given over to the command of one officer, which changes to another, and another, as you are shepherded through the building and out to the other side, to a large path cut up into the canyon's walls, leading out into the desert. With a mechanized click and buzz, the large gate sealing the path off slowly withdraws back into the canyon wall, scraping and rattling against the sand.

Standing on the other side is a drone in what looks like the standard unflattering uniform of a city maintenance worker. She gestures you forward. "You lot, come here. You've been selected as one of the teams to help run standard maintenance on the fluid distribution systems while they're not in use. We've been getting odd plant growth blocking the tubes near one of our waystations. So it's your job to find the source and do some weeding."

Looking about as unexcited as the job sounds, she pauses for a moment to look everyone over. "You're going to want to split into smaller groups when you're down there. Too much noise tends to attract the kind of attention you don't want. Figure something out among yourselves while we're heading there. If you're not sorted out by the time we go down, I'll just pick groups by random, so get to it."

Following the instructions on the letter, you look further down the page, and notice a small instruction. Intriguing!

Dip me in water.

After carefully submerging the letter for a few seconds and delicately removing it, words begin to appear on the other side. Invisible ink? Mysterious! There seem to be seven 'riddles' written in the same neat, flowing writing, along with a question to prompt how the answer should be used. Fiendish! Looking down the list, you settle in for some serious brain exercise. Intellectualating! That's definitely a real word.



When you think you have come up with a correct answer to each riddle, pm the mule with all your answers, and wait to see what happens. As always, please do not share your answers with anyone else, unless your trolls are working together in-character.

You’ve found yourself at an otherwise unremarkable set of coordinates. Beneath the shadow of Chittentown’s city walls you find yourself in an alleyway among a gathering of similar trolls, rebels, milling about anxiously. The group itself doesn’t appear overtly suspicious, but considering the results of the last rebel mission, most find themselves uncomfortable being so close to town.

Rather than a speech or an announcement, the organizer of this particular group stands near the center and speaks normally. Hushed voices spread the information outward to the fringes of the crowd.

“It’s going to be dangerous,” One of the party leads, his symbol concealed beneath a plain gray poncho, speaks to the small crowd. “This shouldn’t be news to any of you. Know what you’re risking, and know the risk is indicative the importance of this mission. The government has proven time and time again it cares not for its own people. Chittentown's citizens need your help.” The man’s voice picks up, only to quickly die down as he stifled his anger. "Not far from this point is the Imperial Research Facility of Natural Science, Chittentown Branch - the same branch where the supposedly 'discontinued' WACKY device was created. We have received intel from agents stationed here that the files containing information on the project, schematics and so forth, have been recently re-opened. We don't need to paint a picture of what is the most likely source of this so-called 'mystery drought'. As always, Chittentown is used as the testing facility for more dangerous devices that put lowblood lives at risk."

He clears his voice and continued in a more even tone. “This building is one of the city’s crown jewels of technological development. Beyond its high-level security measures, it’s built straight into the cliffside. Storming the building isn’t going to do us any good. Field participants will divide into small groups and infiltrate accordingly. Subtlety is key. We will enter, search the facility, and seize or destroy anything there related to this dangerous project. The idea is total annihilation of anything that could be used to enslave and control the downtrodden masses. While we do not assume there will be anything there apart from the WACY, do not let that hold you back should you find something new. Documents, prototypes, anything that comes across your path must be totally destroyed.” The speaker pauses and several trolls remove packs they were carrying. Small, rectangular devices begin to circulate among the crowd.



“The facility is no doubt crawling with securitybots. The last thing we want is to attract attention—noise, structural damage, bloodstains. These signal-jammers should take down the ‘bots with minimal fuss.” The speaker taps the side of one of the devices, “These will also allow younger members of our cause, and it saddens me that we must ask this of ones so young, to roam the facility without any adults. We must trust in their lusii and the technology you now hold in your hands, and the virtue of our task, to protect us all in this mission. And remember, the WACKY device is our number one priority.”

Sensing the end of the talk, the gathering began to disperse.