The Lost Treasure of Matacoombe'

This morning for the Wormwood Daily, we wish to recount a tale of local history that is oft forgotten here in Wormwood Valley.

It was many decades past that Sir Finneus McShrinks began to contemplate a new map for the Wormwood Valley regions. Well, as I am sure you can imagine, this did not sit well with many of the town's local residents who had their own ideas about what lay beyond their doorstep and frankly, didn't want to find out.

There are a great many opinions as to the history of Wormwood Valley and the residents as a whole don't believe in asking too many questions about much of anything, much less local history. Especially if it might conflict with pre-established mythologies, folklore, and the love of the belief that Wormwood was established by retiring pirates. Residents of Wormwood of course all tend to relish a good story to be sure, but the reality of the fables that surround are dark little township are far to eerie for the common listener.

The story of the Lost Treasure of Matacoombe' is just such a tale. One that, while dark and a bit dangerous, bears far too much potential "real history"to be of much concern, and therefore, we feel it is perfect to bring up during these in between days, spanning the boring and generally dull periods of the week between holiday events and the average Wormwood Valley workday.

It was so long ago that no one, other than Sir Finneus McShrinks himself could tell you exactly when, but the fable goes that Sir Finneus, in an effort to complete the last portion of his full Wormwood Valley Gazetteer set out on a crisp fall morning under heavy rolling grey clouds and dense fog to map the last remaining section of Wormwood Forest. Or so he thought.

What he was said to have found was detailed in his book (We do love to read here in Wormwood Valley!) Mapping Gold: The Lost Treasure of Matacoombe' and the dark corners of Wormwood Forest. Being the anniversary of Sir Finneus's discovery (or lack thereof depending on how one chooses to look at it) his tale is now on sale at Cargin McBluff's Wormwood Readery in central Wormwood, just north of Kishnipit's Coffee and Genghis Kahn's Confectionary Delights. Recently the Wormwood Daily spoke with Sir Finneus about the book itself and gathered a short synopsis of the tale as it happened. Without giving away too much detail of course...

Sir Finneus had finally reached what he believed was the far corners of Wormwood Valley. He had walked for days, finally reaching the Ring of Fire, the last set of mountains in the far northwestern reaches of Wormwood Valley. It was here that he encountered the massive black obsidian walls and pouring volcanic lava that he thought, bordered Wormwood Valley. His exploration boots crunched the deep powdery sand as he set foot from the edge of the forest into the desolate wasteland of suit and ash. It was red, orange and filtered with rays of sunlight, pushing through the dense black clouds like beans of power, illuminating the hell-like landscape before him. The smell of sulfur, and even a hint of Fireseed with it's tangy licorice-like smell from the plants that would grow along the borders of the flowing Volcanic rivers filled the air. But what Sir Finneus hooped to find was beyond the ring of Fire, beyond even Wormwood valley itself! Thinking that surely this must be the very edge of creation and that no growing thing could exist in such a fiery and desolate desert, Sir Finneus pushed on, twisting and turning and carefully choosing his path along unstable rocks, flowing islands in rivers of magma, and crumbling mountains filled with fire and plasmic flows. It was by the sure will of his determination and the power of his imaginative curiosity that he pushed on.

Now, as everyone knows here in Wormwood valley, SIr Finneus McShrinks has a somewhat less than proportional sized head, on account of his running into Tabooboo, the ancient Medicine Witch Doctor that shrunk his entire cranium so very long ago in the far reaches of Darkest Africa. What many do not know, is that his brain, while shrunk as well, lost none of it's quick whit and adventurous thinking. Therefore, because of the decreased size of Sir Finneus's nasal capacity, only a small amount of the sulfury toxic air could actually reach his miniscule preceptors of smell, thus allowing him to easily hold his breath, walk for miles and not suffer the same consequences that you or I may in such a horrible and dreadful place.

As he positioned himself precariously on a flowing mass of black rock, he balanced himself in his jompers and worm exploration boots, balancing his helmet upon his unusually small head and curling his handlebar mustache with nervous anticipation, his walking stick balanced in his right hand as he clinched his map between ash stained fingers. He stood balanced, legs spread wide to bob and weave upon the geological floating craft he perched upon, allowing himself to be taken down the river of Lava and further to the North, all the while, scanning the horizon through the clouds of thick red and orange haze, seeking to know what lay beyond this impenetrable wall of mountains.

As the rock picked up speed along it's river-like path, Sir finneus looked ahead to see a massive crater opening up right beneath him, the lava flowing like a gigantic waterfall into the mouth of a sunken Volcanic abyss thousands of feet below. Reaching with all his effort in an attempt to save himself from a fiery grave, he latched his stick onto a clinging branch of Fireseed just at the edge of the flowing river of Lava, his feet dangling far above the orange-red glowing lake below. As he watched his floating volcanic craft fall into oblivion, he watched it's final plunge with a sudden fiery splash , disappearing forever beneath the lake of lava that stretched to the horizon. Scrambling onto the dried pyroclastic flows bordering this massive sunken lake, he took a deep breath of foul sulfur-heavy air, brushed himself off and with a sigh of English pride, set off again to the new landmark, the edge of this dismal glowing hole. As the hours passed and he bordered the massive crater, he could see the ridge line dropping off below into a vast dark valley! With exuberance and excitement he had not felt in years, he quickened his pace, his rope and compass bobbing erratically along his waist as his pack jingled with expedition supplies and survival necessities.

Finally reaching the slope of the black flowing rock, he looked out over what appeared to be a massive range of snow capped peaks, far greater and far wider than even those that bordered Wormwood Valley itself. He saw before him, years of further exploration. With each dip in the vast mountains stretching out before him he could see trees., miles, and miles...and miles, of trees.

It was nearly heart braking. He was no nearer to finding an end to his map than he was before he had risked his life to cross the Ring of fire. But he pressed on. After a short stop for a bit of tea and a snippet of shortbread, he packed up his gear and began to rappel with great agility and finesse down the massive stone cliffs in front of him, vowing to explore and document whatever it was that lay beyond his reach. He wandered for days through thick jungle-like underbrush beneath a massive green canopy, passing ruins of indescribable beauty, unimaginable wealth and facing creatures of unspeakable horror.

It was in one of these small valleys that he encountered the Lost Temple of Matacoombe' learning the name from the archaic inscriptions upon its deserted stone walls. And it is this very treasure that is now on display in the window of Cargin McBluff's Wormwood Readery. The gold glistens through the panned glass window as visitors and onlookers pass by to acquire the full story of SIr Finneus's travels to the edges of Wormwood Valley. And it is said, that late at night after Cargin has closed his doors, and drawn the curtains shut around the front window display, that the building itself begins to shake, rumble, and groan from within, a strange light filtering through cracks in the floor, separations in the framing and deteriorations in the ancient wooden structure. The skulls of Matacoombe' that guard the treasure, so cheerily smiling with their fleshless toothy grins by day, lead some to believe that what Sir Finneus brought back from Matacoombe' may not have been wholly willing to make the return trip.

And while Mapping Gold: The Lost Treasure of Matacoombe' and the dark corners of Wormwood Forest is set to be a most popular read amongst the devoted followers of Sir Finneus previous exploratory works, it is with some trepidation that residents line up this evening to be the first to gain an autographed copy from SIr Finnenus himself, several of the towns youth having set up make-shift shanty's and pitched tents outside of Cargin McBluff's in order to be the first in line. The question remains however, will those hearty few remain after Cargin McBluff shuts his doors and the Treasure of Matacoombe' begins to stir in the dark hours of the night?

We shall see, for tonight at exactly 3:33 am Wormwood Valley time, Sir Finneus McShrinks will enter the bookstore to face off against whatever supernatural force the potentially cursed treasure holds. And of course, to make himself available for immediate late night book signings. Onlookers are rumoring that SIr Finneus will come dressed in his best battle gear, complete with armour, sword and shield. Look for the glistening glow of a polished breastplate or the rattle of a customized kit, or pitch your tent, lay out your bag, and stake your claim to what may turn out to be one of the most notable events in recent Wormwood Valley History.

Reporting from deep below Wormwood Square

Inkey Tolew III Esq.

Commanding Editor in Charge

Wormwood Daily