The Scriptorium Vault
Welcome to the Guildwater News Wire Archive. At long last, we have finished building out our vaunted ribbed Vaults, transferring over parchments and codices of pounded vellum to our Scriptorium cathedral -- material and content that we once foolishly entrusted solely to Facebook, as a burnt offering, attempting to offer up an aroma pleasing to Zuck (the modern Ba'al), all in an effort to propitiate the various and sundry herd gods and goddesses of social conformity and general dyspepsia (we meant simply, "media"). We are now ready for the day when Facebook is regarded as Myspace -- a relic of a bygone era. Here you will find our records dating back to time immemorial, which, fortunately for our Staff Archivist, was not all that long ago. Not for us anyway. 2015 to be exact. Little did we realize then that this represented but the first phase of our archival renovations, for, by the time we had completed what came to be known in our hallowed halls by its hushed and whispered code name -- The Great Transference -- so as not to alert and irk the ire of the ever-wrathful Zuck (don't let that goober smile fool you; Ernst Stavro Blofeld is like Big Bird by comparison), our scrolls and manuscripts, unbeknownst even to us, had grown so lengthy, like some unwieldy yet still immaculately kempt rabbinical beard, that our venerable Abbot (we call him "The Vulnerable Bead," as something of an inside joke, which not even we fully understand, suffice to say that it helps to pass the time) descended at last from his Tower of the Flying Buttresses (it's a humble cubicle cell, actually, it just sounds better the other way) and, in a sepulchral voice of lava mixed with larvae, thunder, and locusts, ordered our team of crack Scriveners, Scribes, Copyists, Archivists, Ink-Dippers, Papyrus-Violators, and other assorted Quill-Scratchers, to break apart the Chronicles Guildwater, to prevent their heft from b(l)ogging down and crashing the feeble browsers of mortal tablets, phablets, and phones world-wide. This deed, too, has now come to pass. Let the people of Earth and the beasts of its Fields rejoice, gathering mirth and bonhomie into humid little bouquets.