EelKat Wendy C Allen - Author Interview: Spell Casting Side Effects: Magic In Quaraun's Universe | Fantasy Author Interview


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EelKat Wendy Christine Allen
Author, Artist, & Art Car Designer

How to say my name?

Eel + Cat = EelKat

Quaraun The Insane 
City of the Screaming Statues
The Dungeon Master With The 1974 AMC Gremlin

City of the Screaming Statues
The Dungeon Master With The 1974 AMC Gremlin

/ /

By EelKat Wendy C Allen

Quaraun The Insane City of the Screaming Statues
The Dungeon Master With The 1974 AMC Gremlin
Free Sample Excerpt From The Novel
(No clue what chapter it is, it's anyone's guess)

It has been brought to my attention, by several fans, that you have read all the currently published novels and are eagerly awaiting publication of the rest of the series. However, life being what it is, the town of Old Orchard Beach being what it is, and my health being what it is... publication of the novels got put on hold with an entire 2 years passing with no new novels published.

As I have many chapters of each volume finished, and each story can be read on their own in any order, without continuing one to the next, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to sait your appetite for more Quaraun, in between the publication of the finished novels, the best thing to do therefore is to simply publish the chapters that are finished here on my site, to give you something to read while waiting for each novel to be finished.

Please note that while not "true" erotica, the Quaraun series is sold as "Adult Entertainment" and is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

The Quaraun Series Is Yaoi (Gay Porn). While not "true Erotica" it is considered by most readers to be "Erotica" of some shape or form, due to the graphic nature of the sex content.

Most of the graphic stuff will not be found posted online, you'll have to read the novel for those scenes. While the excerpt below likely does not contain the stuff listed above, know that the novel it came from does, so do not buy the novel if any of those things bother you.

The Series Is Psychedelic Unicorn Porn & Contains Masochistic Drug Addicted Transvestite Twinkie Uke Elves Having Sex with Sadistic Drug Dealing UnDead Seme Unicorns

You must be 18 or older to buy the novels this excerpt comes from.

The City of The Screaming Statues
The Dungeon Master With The 1974 AMC Gremlin

Quaraun opened his eyes and stared up at the high beamed ceiling overhead. He knew he had been in a forest and wondered where he was now. He considered sitting up and looking around to see where he was, but felt as though he'd vomit if he tried so didn't. He closed his eyes again and listened to the sounds around him to see if they told him anything about where he was. What he heard was lots of strange, yet familiar bubbling and boiling sounds, indicative of an alchemist's laboratory, along with the mixture of herbal, metallic, and chemical smells that came with it.

For anyone who ever wondered
how to dress like Quaraun.
He wears many layers:
harem/palazzo pants, under a
lose kaftan or abaya jilbab dress
under a tight cinched corset,
under a sari wrap,
under a kimono,
under a cloak made of silk and
covered in pink turkey feathers.
He often wears a veil and or hijab.
All in pink, sometimes with orange
usually heavily beaded and embroidered
with giant paisley, hearts, and flowers.
Sometimes he also wears silver-gray, black,
or lilac, instead of pink, but rarely.
He is a transvestite Gypsy from Persia
he is also a Twinkie Uke and
his clothen reflects this.
Men he meets in Maine where he lives,
refer to him as slutty, trashy, and
looking like a whore or prostitute,
because his wardrobe in the books is
the exact same wardrobe I own and
wear every day and those are the things men in Maine
say to me every time I go out in public.

Quaraun opened his eyes again and slowly tried to sit up on one elbow, without hurting his wounded side. The room looked exactly as it sounded and smelled. Most definitely an alchemist' laboratory. Off to one side of the room, was a very young half-Elf.

The boy's long golden curls were the most unnaturally eye blinding shade of phosphorescent neon yellow he'd ever seen. An adolescent, the equivalent of a 16 year old boy, had he been a Human. He was sitting in a big red arm chair, something that he had brought back from the 1990s. Around him on the tables and floors were stacks of books.

Quaraun looked around the room. Every inch of it's walls were floor to ceiling with bookshelves, all packed full of books. Books unlike any books Quaraun had ever seen before. Books with bright coloured covers, and glossy paper spines. Most of which seemed to be written in the Human's English language and all saying the words Dungeons and Dragons on their spines. 

Quaraun's attention went from the yellow haired half-Elf and his endless piles of books, to the big metal machine sitting at the end of the bed. It was as big as the bed itself, painted orange, with yellow flames down it's sides, and the strangest looking wheels Quaraun had ever seen. It looked like a statue of a monsters, with 2 big glass eyes glowing at him, and a shining silver grin on it's huge metal mouth.

"What is that?" Quaraun asked, pointing to the giant orange monstrosity sitting in the center of the room.

"It's a Gremlin," The young half-Elf said.

"A what?"

"A 1974 AMC. Very rare. Collectible. Made them in America."

"America? Where's that?"

"That's where we are. Or it well be, once the Europeans discover it. They haven't done that yet. It's too soon."

"Never heard of it."

Quaraun stared at the 1974 AMC Gremlin wondering what it was.

"What does it do?"

"The Gremlin? It takes you places."


"Same way a wagon does. Only without oxen or horses."

"A magic carriage?"

"Something like that."

"It's looks like a giant pumpkin."

"Yes. It does. Right now it's out of gas. I have to go back and find some. Got to get the time right though. It takes leaded gas. They only made that short while. It's illegal after 1993."

"Why do you have it?"

"Every one has them."

"I've never seen one before."

"Oh no of course not. By the 20th century, everybody has one. Not Gremlins. Gremlins are rare. But motor cars. Every one has at least one. Most people have 2 or 3. They're dreadfully useful. They'll get you half way around the world in 3 days. Of course then the police arrest you for speeding and then you have to explain how you came to be in America without citizenship or driver's licenses or..."

"What are you talking about?"

"They haven't been invented yet."

"They ... haven't ... been ... invented..." Quaraun repeated the words quietly to himself.

"I brought it back from the future with me, after I realized it was easier to drive it here then try to get American citizenship so I could get a driver's licence. Plus I kind of disappeared out of the jail cell. Portal. And now I'm wanted for... I don't... everything I guess. Grand theft auto, car jacking, evading a police officer, but how was I to know what the blue lights meant? I'd never seen a police car before. Heck I'd only just seen this car for the first time. Then there was driving without a licence, being in the country without a green card. Got to find out what that is so I can get one. Driving 125 in a 25 zone... I get the impression 100 miles over the speed limit was rather frowned upon. Here, the police gave me a list of the charges. Where did I  put it?"

The half-Elf began pulling things out of the dozens of pockets that were up and down the front of his long dark green velvet trench coat. Quaraun raised a questioning eye brow as he watched the things coming out of the coat pockets. Books. Dolls. Bottles. Candles. Plates. Bags of pastries. Books. Loaves of bread. Cookies. Candy. Apples. Oranges. Spare gas cans. Snow shoes. Snow shovels. Kites. Sheep.

The half-Elf stared that the sheep. 

"Gretchen? How'd you get in there? I'd wondered where you went."

"Why don't you just put the Gremlin in your pockets," Quaraun said sarcastically. "You seem to have everything else in there."

"Normally I'd keep it outside, but, I have to hide it from people. They think it's a demon. 15th century minds you know."

"Ah. Yes. No. I don't know. I haven't got a clue what you are talking about. Are you saying you walk through time?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"The soldiers that hurt you. They were after me. I came out of a portal, right in front of a tank. Soldiers everywhere. I ran back through a portal to get away from them, and they were too close behind me, so some of them came through with me. Wow. It was a good thing the tank didn't come through. You'd be dead. Would have run right over you and crushed you flat. I gotta be more careful where I set up my portals. I've sent them back to the Persian Gulf where they belong, though... uhm... I'm not sure I got them back in the right year. I can't remember what year that war was. It was 1997 or 1979 or 1797? Oh dear. I should have paid better attention to what year it was. I hadn't expected any one would come through to here."

"You like to talk a lot don't you?"

"There's never any one around here to talk to."

"There's Gretchen," Quaraun said pointing to the sheep.

"Yeah. I rescued her from Proctor and Gamble."

"Proctor and Gamble?"

"Worst monsters on the planet. They build massive slaughter houses and torture animals to death in the name of science. I find families here in the 1400s who need cows for milk, hens for eggs, and sheep for wool, then head back to the 1980s, gather them all up out of the P&G test labs. Bring them back here where they are safe. Science should never hurt any one."

"You're an alchemist, aren't you?" Quaraun asked the young half-Elf.

"Something like that."

"What are you if not an alchemist?"

"I'm a wizard, but I do alchemy too."

"You're a wizard?" Quaraun could not hide the tone of disbelief in his voice.

"Yes. Why does that surprise you?"

"You look young."

"What does age to do with it?"

Here's The Original Release Cover Art
From 2012

"It takes decades to learn magic arts well enough to call yourself a wizard."

"My father was a sorcerer. I started my training young."

Quaraun laughed, and then moaned from the pain in his side.

"Oh, that hurt. I shouldn't laugh."

"Why do you laugh?"

"You just look so young."

"You look young," the half-Elf said to Quaraun.

"I don't age. I'm a lot older then I look."

"Why don't you age?"


"You have Demon blood?"

"I suppose you could put it that way. I'm a full blooded Elf. But I have a Thullid in my head. It's a parasite."

"It stopped you from aging?"


"How old are you?"

"I... uhm... I'm not entirely sure. BoomFuzzy died about 300 years ago. That makes me around 400 years old. More or less. I don't keep track."

"You are very old."

"I am. Why do you compare my age to yours?"

"Are you not a wizard?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"No. But you look like a wizard."

"Most people think I look like a prostitute."

"Yeah, there's that too. But that does seem to be the standard way female wizards dress in the future. You should see the ones at ComicCon. Prostitutes wear more clothes, and far less trashier clothes then 20th century female wizards do. You're just ahead of your times. In a few centuries from now, every wizard is gonna be dressing in slit skirts and bustiers just like you are doing now. And compared to the rest of them, you're not that slutty at all. In fact most of them would say you were over dressed."

"Over dressed?"

"If people think you look like a hooker, they should take a look at string bikinis and mini-skirts."

"What's a bikini?"

"It's two strings, with three triangles. Two over your nipples and one over your crotch. Everything else completely naked. You should see it around here in the summer in the 1980s. Men are wearing bikinis by then too. And that's just regular people. So, yeah. you might look like a prostitute in this time period, but in the future you'd be way over dressed. No one would mistake you for a prostitute then. You kind of look like a Muslim actually. They wear a lot of layers of glitter and silks like you do. In the 1900s when women wear as much clothe as you got on, people call it modesty and covering up. People in this time period are so weighted down, that you look like you're running around in your undergarments to them."

"I AM running around in my undergarments."

The young half-Elf held up the book he had been reading: Dungeons & Dragons Player's Option Heroes of The Elemental Chaos by Richard Baker and Robert J. Schwalb. He flipped to page 36 where it said: Chapter 2 Character Themes.

"See? boobs on parade. And this is just every day dress. No one bats an eye at a woman dressed like that."

On that page was a picture of a female Elf wizard, with albino white skin, long white hair, and foot long thin pointed ears just like Quaraun's. She was wearing a very slutty, next to nothing dress that showed off her over sized cleavage, while she was throwing a lightening orb at a frost draco-lich. A red haired Elf wizard beside her, also skimpily dressed in even less clothen then the first, barely covering her nipples, leaving the rest of her boobage fully exposed, was using her staff to shoot fire bolts at a Frost Giant. 

Quaraun started to say something but the sound of bleating sheep distracted him.

"Are there more sheep in the room?"

The young half-Elf looked towards the sheep.


"Why are there sheep in the room?"

"I like sheep."

"Okay. I suppose that's an answer."

The young half-Elf stood up and left the bed side, to quickly return with a different sheep. Not Gretchen. It was no ordinary sheep. It's long Costwold curls, gleamed with glistening gold plating.

"That's a golden fleece," Quaraun stated.


"Where'd you find one of them?"

"I make them."

"You... how?"

"I'm a wizard."


"My father was."

"No. Why are you making golden fleece?"

"The Sun Elves like gold. They keep Dwarves as slaves to mine deep into the mountains, and Gnomes chained to their workstations to hammer gold into threads to embroider on their clothes. They would have no need for slaves... well, less need for slaves at least... if they had sheep that grew soft luxuriant gold. So I made some."

"Sun Elves are High Elves."


"Last I knew they shunned wizardry and banned magic and... they cast all their wizards into a Hell Dimension and seal up the portal."

The young half-Elf hung his head in shame, as though he'd just been scolded.

"Yes," he sad glumly. "I'm the last one."

"Last Sun Elf wizard?"


"Why didn't you get banished with the rest?"

"My mother. She's the king's favorite daughter. I'm allowed indulgences not afforded to others."

"A half-Elf in the royal family?"


"How'd that happen? Last I knew Sun Elves made a habit of enslaving, abusing, and torturing to death all half-Elves and their parents."

"My mother is the king's favorite daughter."

"So she's allowed indulgences not afforded to others too?"

"No. When the elders banished the wizards to Hell, one of them, the last thing he did, as they sealed up the portal, was to cast a blink spell on the princess."

"Ahhhh. Blinked her into the portal with him, then?"


"And what has that to do with you being a half-Elf?"

"He's my father. I was born in Hell. Raised there too. The Sun Elves, say he kidnapped her and raped her, but... I think they were lovers and... I think that's the real reason they banished the wizards. Nothing to do with magic. They didn't want their princess mothering a half-Elf. Tried to separate the lovers. Didn't work. And now here I am."

"And you're a wizard?"


"Do you specialize in anything? ... other then sheep?"

"I'm a Chaos Wizard."


"Time travel. Portals. Demons. Familiars. Faerie Magic. Chaos Magic."

"Chaos magic?"


"That's dangerous. And advanced. Very advanced. Not a lot of wizard's can master it. And no schools teach it. It's forbidden. Banned by the Guild. And it's not wizardry. It's sorcery. Where'd you learn Chaos Magic?"

"I told you. My father taught me. He was a sorcerer, but I'm not. I'm a wizard."

"You make a distinction?"

"You just did."

"Yes, but Chaos Magic is always sorcery. Never wizardry. So I'm confused as to how you call yourself a wizard and not a sorcerer."

"Sorcery is Blood Magic."

"It is."

"Sacrifices and blood letting. Death. Cutting up innocents. People and animals."

"Yes. Many a murder has been done in the name of magic. Which is why Chaos Magic is on the Guild's list of types of magic forbidden, banned, and practitioners of it are executed on sight, no trial."

"I've never shed blood. I don't kill anything. And I never will."

"You practice Chaos Magic without blood?"


"How's that going?"

"Very well."

"You're not very old are you?"

"You already asked that."

"Yes, but if you're father was any kind of a wizard worth his salt, I would know him."

"Would you?"

"Yes. I would."

"Are you sure?"

"You really don't know who I am, do you?"

"No. Should I?"

"Who was your father?"

"I'm not supposed to say."


The young wizard looked nervously around, then leaned close to Quaraun and whispered.

"He was evil. One of the Guild's top 10 most wanted."



Eye of The Grigoi
Eye of the Watchers
Eye of God
Hand of God
Eye of Protection
Evil Eye
Gypsy Curse

"Well, then I know I know him."


"I'm the Guild's top most wanted wizard."

"Are you?"

"I am. It's why I can't stay any where long. Always on the run these days."

"My father didn't run. He fought back. He should have run."

"Who was he?"

"I can't say."

"Why not?"

"The king won't let me."


"Guild members live here."

"Do they? Hmm." Quaraun thought for a moment. "Good to know. And where is HERE, exactly?"

"This is Saco Bay Estuary at the Saco River Delta."

"You're in the Sun Elf village, the Garden By the Sea."

"Garden By the Sea? I've been here before. The Forest of No Return. How near are we to the blueberry fields? The ravine?"

"The ravine is right beside us. The blueberry fields are a 10 minute walk from here. You can walk to them through the ravine. We're in the apple orchards here. The beach is right there. Ocean's right at my front door."

"How'd I get here?" 

"A pair of Sun Elves found you. I didn't bring you here. I would never have brought a wizard here. I don't think they knew you were a wizard or they probably would have gutted you right in the road where you lay when they found you. And this is my house. You're in my bed. I think they thought you were a she-Elf too. And I think they think you are an aristocrat. They wouldn't have helped you otherwise."


"Oh no. You look wealthy. The way you were dressed. Had you been poor or dark skinned or not an Elf or... well, anything not them... they would have killed you themselves."


"Yeah. Rather fanatical. Very extreme. It's why I live done here on the beach, kind of... not in the village. They don't like me. Half-Elf."

"Then why'd they bring me to you?"

"I'm the closest thing this town has to a healer, so they brought you to me."

"YOU'RE a healer?"

"No. Just the closest thing in the area to one."

"You're a kid."

"I'm smart for my age. Which, isn't hard to do in this time period. A 1980s kindergartener has a better education then the average adult does around here."


"Five year old Humans. Named after a type of school they have in the future." 

"Are you saying no tended to my wounds, but you?"


"I hate to ask, but, how does someone as young as you, have the knowledge to stitch up my wounds, like this?"



"Yeah. I went back to the future and I went to the hospital and I took a bunch of books off the shelves in the back rooms. I figured some of them had to tell me what to do. And then I went back and got ll the supplies and stuff to sew you up with."

"You're quite resourceful."

"Well I live here, don't I?"

"You live on the beach?"



"Yeah. Well, I have my sheep. Their's more in the pasture outside. And I have my books."

Quaraun looked around at the many thousands of books that filled practically every inch of the room.

"Where's your family?"

"My mom, she... she... she lives with her family."

"HER family?"


"Her own son is not a part of her family?" 

"I'm illegitimate Demon spawn."

"Demon spawn?" Quaraun shook his head. He'd heard that term before. It was common for Elves to toss hateful labels like that on half-Elves. "Where's your father? You said he taught you magic?" 

"My dad... he got... banished. I've been trying to find him. I don't know what portal they put him in. Or what time period."

"Do you have any siblings?" 

"My siblings are all pure blooded. My mum's husband, he's not my dad. I'm half blooded, unloved, and unwanted. My father wanted me, but my mother took me away from him, but then her father didn't want me."

"None of them cares enough... I'm sorry. That's not right. Elves are not solitary."

"I'm just a half-Elf."

"JUST a half-Elf? What kind of racist crap is that? Elves are communal creatures, we should never live alone. Not one of us. Not even a half-Elf. You belong with a family. So young living out here alone. Isn't that rather dangerous? Weather around here is rather harsh isn't it?"

"Yeah. Especially in the late summer, when the big storms hit and in the winter when the snow squalls hit and in deep winter when the blizzards hit."

"Why not move inland more?"

"It's safer here."



"What dangers lay inland that could be more life threatening then the weather?"

"The Sun Elves."

Quaraun could see nervous fear shadow over the half-Elf's face. Fear that came from abuse and bullying.

"Are you not yourself a Sun Elf?"

"My mom was."

"They don't consider you a Sun Elf?"

"They call me... they... they..." Tears filled the boy's eyes.

"What would happen if you went into the Sun Elf village?"

"They'd tie me to a horse and let it drag me through the streets."

For anyone who ever wondered
how to dress like Quaraun.
He wears many layers:
harem/palazzo pants, under a
lose kaftan or abaya jilbab dress
under a tight cinched corset,
under a sari wrap,
under a kimono,
under a cloak made of silk and
covered in pink turkey feathers.
He often wears a veil and or hijab.
All in pink, sometimes with orange
usually heavily beaded and embroidered
with giant paisley, hearts, and flowers.
Sometimes he also wears silver-gray, black,
or lilac, instead of pink, but rarely.
He is a transvestite Gypsy from Persia
he is also a Twinkie Uke and
his clothen reflects this.
Men he meets in Maine where he lives,
refer to him as slutty, trashy, and
looking like a whore or prostitute,
because his wardrobe in the books is
the exact same wardrobe I own and
wear every day and those are the things men in Maine
say to me every time I go out in public.

"Has that happened to you?"


"Because you're a half-Elf?"


"You're just a child."

"Yeah. But I'm a half-Elf."

"Racism that big of a problem around here?"


"And you live here by yourself?"


"Do you have any friends?"

"There's my mother. I see her sometimes. She sneaks away every few months to visit me."

"Where is she?"

"That big mansion, the one with the clock tower. You can see it from here." 

"Is she a Sun Elf?"


"I lived there for a few months with her."

"What happened? Why'd you leave?"

"Stocks. Bonds. Iron maidens. Judas chairs."

"They tortured you?"



"They're full blooded High Elves. I'm a half-Elf. I have tainted blood. It's what they do. I escaped. After the horses. The horses, kept running, out into the woods. Rope broke. Horses kept going. I dragged myself down into the ravine. Found a cave. Hid there for a few weeks. Then, I found this little house here on the beach. It used to belong to an alchemist. He died. No one's lived here since. I found stuff I needed to heal my injuries and just never left."

"The Sun Elves don't bother you here?"

"No. They say this area is cursed. The swamps between the ravine and the beach. They say it's Fae territory. Don't dare to come out here past the Faeries, so they leave alone. I guess they figure, sooner or later the Faeries will get me. Funny thing is, though, whenever someone gets sick or injured, they bring them out to me for help."

"You said I was a wizard and a male. But they thought I was a wealthy she-Elf. How do you know things about me, but they don't?"

"Well, I had to undress you to tend your wounds and you got more between your legs then a she-Elf does."

"How did you come to the conclusion that I'm a wizard?"

"Your coin purse. That's a bag of holding you got there."

"Bag of holding?"

"Yeah, all I could get out of it was gold coins."

"That's all you should get out of it. Why were you poking through it to begin with?"

"I... uhm... bad habit."

"Bad habit? Opening other people's purses is a bad habit?"


Quaraun looked at the car sitting in the bedroom and thought about the half-Elf's rambled story of police.

"Are you a thief?"


"And you're stupid enough to admit it?"

"No. Not stupid... just... I... I'm used to moving things from one time period to another and... it... uhm..."

"I get the idea. You steal things from time period, to change history of another time period."

"I'm not trying to change time... I just... I gotta eat you know? And these books are expensive. Can't afford 'em."

"Do you not get enough to eat?"

The boy shook his head.

"You'd like the candy wizard. Or he'd like you. He likes fattening up children with sugary sweets. Of course he likes eating them once he's got them plump. It's trying times when children are forced to steal in order to not go hungry."

"That's why a bag of holding is good to have. You can pack it full of food and no one but you can see it."

"A bag of holding is very expensive. Takes a dragon's hoard to afford one."


"You're coat seems to be made out of lots of bags of holding. Looks like every pocket you have is one."

"Yeah. I can carry whole house fuls of stuff with me and it adds no extra weight. Light as a feather."

"Where's you get it?"

"I made it."

"You made it?"


"Where'd you get all the bags of holding to make it out of?"

"I made them."

"You? Made a few dozen bags of holding?"


"You're a child."


"There are only a handful of wizards who've masters the technique. It takes a century or more just to learn how to do it. Each one takes years to make."

"Oh no. It only takes a few days to make one."

"Days? That's impossible! How do you make them?"

"I just make a pocket for my coat, and them I create a void space somewhere out in the galaxy, and then I put the portal entrance in my pocket."

"Void space? And portals? That's dangerous. Your coat could envelope you and suck you into a black hole. Where'd you learn to do this?"

The young half-Elf went over to his stack of books and pawed through them. After a few moments returned to Quaraun and handed him the book.

"SpellJammer. Adventures in Space?" Quaraun read the cover out loud.

"Yeah. It's the Dungeon Master's guide. Really rare. I had a hard time getting a copy of it. Bidding wars on eBay are crazy for this one. Hardly ever goes on sale. But it's got some of the best spells in the series."

"It's a spell book?"

"Yep. I'm a Dungeon Master."

"You're a what?"

"I've been teaching myself all the spells in all of these books. I'm gonna be the most powerful wizard on the planet some day and then I'll be able to find my father. You're one of the most powerful wizards there is."

"How can you tell?"

"You're bag of holding. You've got all sorts of protection spells on it. Can't break 'em."

"You tried?"

"Yeah. I'm good at picking any lock, mundane or magical, and I couldn't pick those. Not no way, not no how. Once I realized they were Lich spells and you were protecting a Lich and had it's phylactery in there."

"Which you discovered how?"

"He... I.... uhm...." 

"He? Who?"

The half-Elf suddenly looked very frighted, realizing he had said too much.

Quaraun looked around the room. His clothes and his bag of holding were carefully placed on a table near the bed. He was now awake enough to be seeing more clearly and he was seeing very clearly that not all of his things were in the room with him. Anger suddenly boiled inside the Necromancer.

"Where's my Lich," Quaraun snarled at the half-Elf.

"They took him. I tried to stop them. They didn't know you were a wizard or they would have taken you too."


"The Guild."


"I don't know. I wasn't there. I don't know what happened. They said he was a Necromancer. They executed him. Or they tried to. The next day... At first they thought he was a vampire, so they executed him different the next day, but then the third day, he came back alive again. They just started killing him over and over again and they realized he was a Lich and they...

but they didn't suspect you. They thought he attacked you. They thought you were his victim. They're crazed with wizard hating and... at first I didn't realize you were a wizard, until... I realized, every time they killed him.... at the exact moment he died, you'd get worse. Not worse, but it hurt you. You suffering his pain with him and that's when I realized you were soul bound to him, and soul binding is forbidden and... and... I wasn't trying to pry into your business, I just, they were hurting him and it was hurting you and I hate to see any one suffer.... and... I went to see what you had in the bag to see if I could find anything that would help and, all it had in it was 10 gold coins. I set the coins on the table and put the bag with them.

That night, I remembered I hadn't put them back in your bag, so I went to do that and there were 10 more gold coins. I set them on the table. At first I thought I had missed them some how, but when I opened the bag again, there were 10 more gold coins. A few hundred gold coins later I started trying to break through the spell and... I recognized the spells as ones used by Liches and Necromancers who protect Liches, as a series of very powerful spells to hide a Lich's phylactery. And, after a few days of looking through books on Liches and Necromancy I found a reference to a wizard people called "The Pink Necromancer", said he built Liches.

I started thinking it might be you, given the way you were dressed. I couldn't help your Lich. I'm not that powerful enough a wizard to go up against the Guild. They'd have killed me for treason. They barely allow alchemy. As long as they think I'm an alchemist and not a wizard, I'm okay. I've been keeping them from you though."

"Are you even an adult?"

The half-Elf looked down at the floor and did not answer. Quaraun slowly climbed out of bed and unsteadily, tried to gain his bearing.

"How old are you?" Quaraun asked the half-Elf as he set about to redressing himself in his bright pink Thullid silks.


"You're still an Elfling. You are as young as you look. Do you have a name?"

"I can't use my name."

"Why not?"

"My mother named me after my father."


"The Guild doesn't know he had a son. If they found out who I am, they'd kill me just for that alone."

"You must have a name people call you?"

"My mother calls me Glinter. On account of my golden sheep."



"Well, then, Glinter. Thank you for helping me. Where is Unicorn?"


"The Lich. Where did they take him?"

"His name is Unicorn?"

"No. His name is King Gwallmaiic. I call him Unicorn, because he's a Phooka."

"I don't understand. Why would you call a Phooka Unicorn?"

"Have you ever seen a Phooka's true form?"

"No. No one has."

"I have. A Phooka in it's true form, as it comes from it's mother's womb, is a tiny horse, only the size of a goat, not much bigger then your sheep there. Looks like a Shetland Pony. They have long shaggy black fur, black eyes with no whites and no pupils, rows of fangs instead of teeth, and talon claws instead of hooves. On their forehead grows a spiral horn that gleams as though made of silver. A Phooka is a type of a unicorn. It's a marsh unicorn, native to salt water swamps along the coasts. That's why I call him Unicorn. It's a lot easier to say then King Gwallmaiic, Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, Leader of the Lich Lords, every single time I want to talk to him."

"Elf Eater?"


"He's the Elf Eater?"

"Yes. Now where is he?"

"The Guild has him."


What are you gonna do?"

"Get him back."

"You can't fight the Guild."

"Yes I can."

"No one can."

"I can. Tell me where they are."

"The Guild banished my father. They trapped him in Hell." 

"They won't do that to me."

"You don't know how powerful they are."

Glinter began trembling with fear.

"I do know how powerful they are. And I can fight them. I've fought them before and they're royally pissed over it."

The poor half-Elf stared at Quaraun, though wide fearful yellow eyes. He was too scared to say anything.

Quaraun searched Glinter's face trying to find a reason for his fears. It was then, Quaraun realized, there was no such thing as a yellow eyed Human. That the half-Elf had metallic yellow eyes, with thin slatted reptilian pupils identified him immediately as a half-Elf. Glinter could have passed for a full blooded Sun Elf, were it not for his snake like eyes. Quaraun had noticed the eyes immediately upon waking up, but had passed it off as nothing of note, seeing how they were the eyes of a half-Elf. But Quaraun, had assumed half-Elf, meant half-Human. He had not stopped to think about the possibility that Glinter might have been half-something else.

"What are you?" Quaraun asked. 

"I'm a Chaos Wizard."

"Why Chaos Magic?"

"It what my father taught me."

"What was your father?"

"He was a sorcerer."

"The Guild killed every sorcerer. Why didn't they kill your father?"

"He was too powerful."

"Why did they send to a Hell Dimension?"

"To punish him."

"Glinter. You're avoiding the question."

"Am I" 

"Yes. Why Hell?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Was he a Demon?"

Glinter was shaking so bad, Quaraun thought the poor half-Elf would faint.

"Was you're father a Chaos Demon? Is that why he taught you Chaos Magic?"

Again Glinter said nothing.

"Was your father the sorcerer, who people called The Ghoul?"

Glinter closed his eyes and continued to not speak.

"Glinter. Look at me. I never meet the Ghoul. But I'm familiar with his work. He trained under Gwallmaiic. Before he was a Lich, Gwallmaiic was a warrior king. A tribal leader in Scotland. I don't know how much of a kingdom he actually had, but he had enough influence to scare people all over the planet. His undead army marched all over the world. They were practically unstoppable. It's hard to kill something that's already dead. The few who weren't dead were Demons or Necromancers or both. He had several very powerful Necromancer Generals who lead his army. Gibedon and The Ghoul were among them. I meet Gibedon."

Quaraun reached into his bag of holding and pulled out the severed head of a Dark Elf.

"I killed Gibedon."

Glinter stepped away from Quaraun.

"You're the wizard who killed Gibedon?"

"I am."

"You're Quaraun the Insane."

"I am."

"You killed Findaru."

"I did."

"You've been killing all the Guild members."

"I have."


"They killed my family. They destroyed my life. Now I'm going to destroy theirs. They took every thing I loved and everything I lived for away from me. I will hunt them for eternity, until every last thing they cared about is destroyed. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It is the Human creed. The Guild is a Human organization. By their own creed, shall they now die. As they have done to me, so shall I do to them. And they are mere Humans. I am a full blooded Elf. I will be the thorn in the flesh of them, their children, their children's children... and I plan to do it for eternity... thus the Liches. I will never let them, their children, or their grandchildren forget what they did to me. The world will know, what they did and generations of their family will live in eternal shame. I will never let any one forget what those bastards did to me and my family. No where did they take my Unicorn?"

"You're hurt."

"That doesn't matter. I need to find Unicorn."

Interview With EelKat
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Random Thoughts On Writing Magic &
Wizards In Fantasy Worlds
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The City of The Screaming Statues

Not fully recovered from his ordeal at the Mournful Lamb Inn in the Swamp of Death, Quaraun is rejoined by Unicorn and heads for the coast to rest. Unfortunately a portal opens in the road in front of them and out run Persian Gulf War solders, shooting at an enemy they can no longer see.

Critically wounded by a 20th century weapon, the 15th century wizard, is taken in by a fanatical tribe of High Elves, known as the Sun Elves. Unable to heal his wounds, Quaraun is forced into a deep sleep to save his life.

Timing is bad, as the Guild has just moved into the area, with their ever more violent and increasingly fanatical hatred of all things different then they are. With the Guild torturing to death all wizards, Dwaves, Gnomes, Humans, minorities, Common Elves, and LGBTQ citizens in their path, they now invade Saco Bay's Garden By The Sea in search of the infamous Pink Necromancer, as Quaraun becomes their latest target.

When the black skinned Unicorn is captured by white power fanatics, protecting Quaraun's body from harm is left in the hands of an absent minded half-Elf teenager from the future.

Seeing the the homicidal hate group as the saviors of the land, the Sun Elves join forces with the Guild and turn on the comatose Quaraun, with no one around to save him, but a teenage Dungeon Master from the 1980s, who is trapped in the 1400s, has got a hold of Quaraun's Rainbow wand, and was never told Dungeons and Dragons spells were not real.

The Dungeon Master With The 1974 AMC Gremlin

This novel was originally written on: 2012

This page last updated on: April 13, 2017

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If it ain't on this list, it's probably fake.


Throughout 2013 - 2015 a slew of FAKE "EelKat" accounts surfaced, both on social networks and on forums, most were created by a woman calling herself Kendra Silvermander, or her backhoe driving cousin who drove a backhoe over my house, the same woman and her family who cut the heads off my cats, are the same people who hacked my online accounts, created a slew of fake accounts and pretended to be me, after they beat me up on November 14, 2013, leaving me paralyzed for 5 months, relearning to walk for 18 months, and clueless to their impersonation of my online due to my life threatening crippled state that had me offline from November 2013 to March 2016.

Who they are and why they are doing this remains unknown. If you know the identity of these people, please contact the FBI in charge of the investigation into their murder attempts on my life:

Agent Andy Drewer

of the Portland FBI

@ 207-774-9322 

NOTE: I was very active on forums from 1997 to 2007 and have RARELY used a forum since then. Other then the Warriors Forum and Absolute Write I have not posted on ANY forums AT ALL since 2012.

Note: My old inactive forum accounts were hacked and "resurrected" in 2013/2014/2015 by a psychotic NaNoWriMo ML who is upset over my having won a total of 27 writing contests/challenges and published 130+ novels since 2004 and and apparently (according to her emails) she has yet to win or publish anything.

If you see "me" posting on a forum at any point after 2012, know that it is likely this mysterious, and still yet unidentified "Kendra Silvermander".

More information about Kendra Silvermander and what she did can be found here.

Let's think about something here...

I'm just a harmless old lady who likes to dress like and Elf and paint everything pink and write stories about Elves having sex with Unicorns. For THAT, the residents of Old Orchard Beach, call me crazy, build a bomb, blow up my house, stand in my drive way and shoot at me, kidnap my cats, cut my cats' heads off, nail my cats' heads to my door, beat my 28 year old Shetland pony's head in, drive a back hoe over my house 3 times, filled my motorhome with feces 3 feet deep, I was paralyzed for 5 months because they trespassed up in here and beat me up, 3 years later I finally recover and start walking again and they beat me up again this time with a shopping cart rupturing 3 discs in my spine while screaming "kill or be killed remember Saco Shaw's!" and they cut my car in half. I'm sorry, WHO exactly is the crazy person here? 

Yes, I wear pink ball gowns every day.

Yes I wear fake pointy ears and long white Rapunzel wigs.

Yes, I paint my cars, my motorhome, and my mailbox pink.

Yes, I write about Elves having sex with Unicorns.

So the fucking hell what?

I haven't set foot off my land in 40 years. The only time I have contact with people is when THEY trespass on my yard and invade my privacy. And you know what? I've always welcomed them with happy smiles and open arms, made them meals and served them tea, and spent the day happily chatting with any one and every one who wanted to visit me. I love it when you people stop by to visit me as it's the only time I have any one to talk to other then my cats... oh wait... I don't have ANYONE to talk to any more, now that sociopath freaks murdered them and nailed their heads to my door!

You call me crazy because I wear pink dresses, yet THESE THREE PEOPLE are the ones who built a bomb and blew up my house!

You call me crazy because I wear pink dresses, yet THESE THREE PEOPLE are the violent trespassers who stands in my drive way and shoot at me.

You call me crazy because I wear pink dresses, yet THESE THREE PEOPLE are the ones who kidnap my cats, cut my cats' heads off, nail my cats' heads to my door, beat my 28 year old Shetland pony's head in, drive a back hoe over my house 3 times, filled my motorhome with feces 3 feet deep, and cut my car in half.

I mean REALLY stand back and look around.

All I'm doing is wearing strange cloths. I'm not the violent animal abusing, bomb building, psychopath beating up elderly women... THEY are.

There's a hell of a big difference between a half blind elderly woman dressing up as comic book characters and not bothering one damned person, and violent psychopathic criminal creeps beating her up, bombing her house, driving a back hoe over 3 more of her houses, cutting her car in half, filling her motorhome with feces, murdering her horse, and slaughtering her cats!

Old Orchard Beach has a crazy person in it all right, but isn't me... and the residents of this town need to get off their asses and tell the FBI who this white haired man and his blond wife and red haired sister-in-law are BEFORE THEY KILL ME! The red haired woman calls herself Kendra Silvermander.

I don't know who this man and his two women are. They are strangers to me. I don't know their names. And I don't know why they are doing this. Some body in this town must know who these people are ... PLEASE... the FBI is trying to put a stop to these insane hate crimes... PLEASE if you know who these psychopathic monsters are, PLEASE tell Agent Andy Drewer before they kill me. They cut my car in half in 2010. They cut my cats in half in 2015. How long do you think it'll be before they cut ME in half too? PLEASE HELP ME!

➽ ➽ ➽ If you have any information regarding the identity of the stalker/attacker/driver of the 4-door white pick-up truck please contact Officer Tim DeLuca of the Old Orchard Beach Police Department @ 207-934-4911 and/or

Agent Andy Drewer

of the Portland FBI

@ 207-774-9322 

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Please help the police and FBI put this brutal, violent, psychotically deranged stalker family in prison.

Have Information?
Call FBI Agent Andy Drewer @ (207) 774-9322 

Need Directions?

Rather then ask the crazy gun-toting neighbours, and risk get shot by the psychotically deranged, white power gay haters that live up and down my street, patrolling obsessively by my driveway every 15 minutes in a 4 door white pick-up truck, just get directions from Google Maps. Here, you can find 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, ME right here:

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