Up the Emyn Miriain

Yuletide Adventure III: Season Without a Santa
“Up the Emyn Miriain”

After accepting Sméagyule as my guide, he led us up the Emyn Miriain—the “Hills of Coins.” Locals at the Pole usually avoid these haunted hillocks, & fearful rumors abound of wights, revenants, beasts—some e’en say, the malevolence of Money Itself drips in every shadow! I know better than to dismiss such whispers, but even I could not imagine the disturbing denizens we encountered: MARK CUBOIDS!

Animated, glaciated cubes, containing shards of what were once Mark Cuban’s very soul! He cast his anima aside decades ago, of course, in the pursuit of Avarice—transforming the soul-remnants instantly to HAZARDOUS WASTE. Obviously, some foul animancer snatched up Cuban’s soul-shards, & crafted these floating freaks. Wealth-runes dot their corners, symbols of Mark Cuban’s only real desire. Thankfully, a few blasts of Igbrajzy’s Ignition seems to defeat them—but Sméagyule seems unwilling to battle, e’en to save his own life!

Did he know what we might encounter here? Could the wretch have set a trap, luring me to certain doom—or so he thought? I dare not speak these doubts aloud. If true, then I must not let him know I suspect disloyalty—& if ‘tis not so, then I would not wish to hurt his feelings. & so, after melting this cadre of frozen fragile dopes, we trudge, onward & upward, deeper into the Emyn Miriain. For good, or ill, I must follow Sméagyule to the end.

A bit of peril—but only a bit. Like all billionaires, Mark Cuban presents no actual physical threat. Stripped of money & status, all that remains is thin ice…

Thank ye for reading, mortals, & for following along on this year’s Yuletide Adventure thus far! I would also thank all those sending these to friends (& FOES), sharing them on thy cursèd “social media,” & of course to the growing number of generous mortals who can & do support our works with $5 monthly here in the Scriptorium!

I shall write ye Wednesday with the next leg of the Yuletide journey, plus details on this week’s episode! ‘Til then—be safe, be well, & be not afraid of a billionaire, should ye encounter one on the street. Simply rise up on thy toes, embiggen thy posture, & call them “thief” & “loser.” They will flee, every time.

Cheers,
Amoenus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Anti-Markist