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the Rigwoodie Ramblers

This is a role-playing site my friend has. It's a fantasy site where everyone plays a magical creature. I have a friend who is a winged hedgehog, one who's a stilt-legged tortoise, one who's a dragon, and a bunch of others. I'm Riah, a giant falcon. If you want to look at the Rigwoodie Ramblers, you can log in as a guest, but you don't get too see everything that way. Here are some of my favorite worlds from it.

The Mirror'd Perse Fields
Can you tell I like Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass?

These plains are mirrored. Half of it is real, and the other half is a mirror image. The only difference between this and a huge mirror being set up on the edge of the field is that there is no wall between the images. There is not even a flimsy aluminium sheet to reflect. There is no shimmery air curtain. The two just connect, as though nothing were out of the ordinary. So, if a rabbit with wings (par example) were hopping along straight towards the mirror field, another rabbit, an illusionary rabbit, would meet it in the middle. Now is where it gets complicated. If the real rabbit were to go on, it and the illusionary rabbit would merge for a few seconds, then pass on through eachother, but, as the illusionary rabbit crossed to the real field, it would not dissapate. That is to say, it would stay there, and still exist. Then, you ask, which is the real rabbit now? You shall never be entirely sure of that. The fields haven't changed, and yet the rabbits have. How does that work? I haven't the foggiest idea.

But the real rabbit doesn't even notice, whoever it is.

The Fen
The main reason for this place is to soothe the confused and frustrated creatures who can't understand the Mirror'd Perse Fields. This is a simple place with no mirrors. If you have any mirrors that you'd like to get rid of, just go to the edge, drop them in, and watch them sink into the myre. Then you may be permitted to breathe a sigh of relief.

A Fen is a "water-meadow" or a "bog", says the Oxford English Dictionary. Only those sure of foot can find there way through here.
There are islands of grass here and there, and quite a large dryish meadow near the edge. Most of the time a whispering mist floats through the air, but sometimes it's relatively sunny, showing miles and miles of distant swampland. Supposedly, only one creature has been known to cross the entire thing without any mishaps. Strangely, History remains completely silent on who it was. Unless you poke him, that is. Then he lets out a squeak.

The Crag Cliffs
Despite what you are no doubt thinking, there is no crag in the Crag Cliffs. The cliffs were named after the dragon Crag, who fell off the cliff to his death, believing that the sea, which he had never seen before, was a neighbouring dragon with whom he could fight. The sea did indeed fight him, but not in the way he predicted. He was "swallowed" by the sea, and died, not of drowning, but because he was allergic to a certain kind of plankton that inhabits this particular sea next to the cliffs.

The cliffs are as tall as most cliffs, normally. The only odd thing about them is that they have feelings. They have been known to shrink and grow according to their mood, and one side of the cliffs actually threw a griffon off of itself because the griffon's talons tickled. So you see, the only creatures who live here are the ones the cliffs approve of-- and whose talons don't tickle. Some creatures who have lived here for a very long time even get on a talking basis with the cliffs, though, of course, most of the time it's a very one-sided conversation.

the Rigwoodie Ramblers