The sage of Bottomburn, also know as the Tyme Keeper, was busy writing down the recent events. His bright red, green, blue, and purple feather scribbling down the history of the town. With the help of a special omnipotent friend named, Halla, he recorded the events at hand.

"Wait a minute, Halla. I thought you said that this Pavek fella was a elven blade-singer? And now you say he is a human. What is up with this?"

Halla is busy chomping at an apple.

"I don't know. I didn't write this. I just read it. Aaaahhh.

He puts down the last reminates of the apple, a core.

"That's better. Hey, you got another apple that one was good."

OK, so, maybe Halla wasn't so omnipotent, at least he ate healthy. Tyme continued to write.

"So now there's Trolls too?"
"That's what it sounds like"
"At least there ain't a Dragon"
"Hey, all you got in here is a moldy old cookie!"
"I don't think you wanna eat that. I think that was left there from when Rasor was last here."
"No more apples?"
"You ate my last one! I had to go all the way to lake Deepbuttsniff, or what ever you call it."
"You mean Deepbottom."
"Yeah! That's the name of the lake! Why does everything around here have to do with butts? I mean next thing you know Bevis and Buttbrain will be here!"
"You mean Butthead."
"What? Oh yeah, Butthead, not Buttbrain."
"Can you get me some more apples?"
"WHAT? ! AND GET STUCK IN THIS MESS? ! I DON'T THINK SO ! I am just going to wait till I get the next part of this story then publish it."
"Whatever."
"You want the apples you go get them."
"Fine then I think I will."
"You aren't leaving till I get the next piece of this story."
"That's what you think. I would kill for another one of them apples."