[Annunfuiniel]

And so the two fell beasts fell into the chasm in a bundle of fire and smoke, tails and talons – and a couple of unused wings. Wings!?! thought Mord, finally getting into the heart of the matter; So not fair! That drunken excuse for a dragon has wings and I don’t, “So not fair!!!” The Balfrog now abandoned silent musings and roared in rage – waking up Chrysophylax who had huddled up in Mord’s lap and then passed out (dreaming of Grrruff).

“Whatscha fumin’ now, babe? Jusht wondered what mighta beesh hidden unda thatsh corr…corl…collar… ” drooled the dragon (revealing that the word ‘awake’ wasn’t exactly befitting to describe his state of consciousness), unaware of the danger he was in – and of the danger he just avoided as his words went unheard by the Nazgrrl.

But before we get back to Mord’s answer let’s travel back in time (about half a minute) to have a quick look on how the Gallowship reacted to these happenings…

* * * * * * *

Up on and behind the bridge a lot was indeed going on. As the burning bundle of bloody beasts plunged into the void an admirably simultaneous gasp escaped the lips of the better two thirds of the - obviously soon to become dragonless - Itship. Those not engaged in the gasping were the Gateskeeper and Kuruharan who had things of far greater importance on their minds.

The former sat still in his new chair (earlier Earnur Etceteron had been so kind as to offer to give him a push over the bridge but Gatesy had politely declined; Lord Etceteron’s stammering “Could I help you over the edg…*cough* bridge?” and the curious gleam in his eyes had somehow not assured him.) and feverishly scribbled these and other odd marks in his notebook: a = S F / m, v = v0 + at. His concentrated expression relaxed into a triumphant grin only after careful calculations. “That’ll be one Big Bang…” he chuckled.

The latter on the other hand wasn't present at all; a matter which had somehow gone unnoticed by all. But had Kuruharan been there he would undoubtedly have taken up the task which his stand-in, the diligent Dimli, now enthusiastically executed (for, you know: 'Any Dwarf will do...'). And so it took no time at all before a box office rose to the financially more advantageous side of the bridge, its neonlights blinking blindingly: ‘Cruel Chrysi vs. Monstrous Mord (place your bets here)’. The dwarf wasn’t really worried over what would happen to the falling creatures; as long as they kept falling and fighting it was all the same to him - and good for business. And as the gullible guys and gals – and one kabobless Grundorian - began to float towards his stand Dimli rubbed his hands together and chuckled: "O-boy-o-boy-o-boy-o-boy!"

But in the middle of this mayhem everyone had forgotten about a creature and a thing of whom/which the latter was vitally important to the Potpourriship and the former was about to become a real pain in the a**terisk. So we will now turn our attention to the Broom and Norni the dwarfling. And first, to understand how the Broom lay there, in the middle of the bridge in the middle of the mayhem, all forlorn, abandoned and outcast, we need to go still a bit further back in time:

This moment of introspection gave Mordaenárur the presence of mind to grab hold of the nearest thing that could keep him from falling in. This thing turned out to be Chrysophylax’s tail.

Now you see: when Mordaenárur clutched to the dragon’s tail he naturally had to let go off what he had been holding before - and that would be the Broom, which then came hurtling across the air right to Norni’s furry feet. And Norni, while gasping together with the Alltogethership* (but for different reasons; he was just trying to express his feelings on this outrageous attempt to avoid bridge toll), grabbed the Entish thing that landed on his toes and peeped solemnly:

“I’ll take this then! For no-one crosses this bridge without a pay!”

“No!!!” Merisu let out an ear-splitting and utterly feminine screech; “That Broom is part of the Ent-that-was-Broken! Get that dwarfling!”

Grrruff would have been nearest to the hybrid whose status had now become ‘Wanted: dead or alive’. But her interests were totally elsewhere, namely at the void which had swallowed not one but two potential boyfriends.

Things started to look very bad for the Itship and their quest (‘As bad as a Nazgrrl in garterbelt’ the Broom would likely have put it. And so it definitely was the Broom’s luck that it had been knocked unconscious and was thus unable to speak up.). But luckily there was always one manly man** to take up the challenge of heroic deeds! Yes, Lord Earnur Etceteron indeed saw that his time had finally come and that against such devoted bridge-toll-collector words would be of no use. So the Lord of Dun Sóbrin stepped forward and reached for his (daunting?, daunted?) sword Griper, which then began to whimper: Thrust me into that mongrel and I shall never speak to you again!. This of course was something that by no means halted Lord Etceteron: “Is that a promise?” he instead queried and manfully took another step towards the dwarfling.

“Fly you fools!” Norri commanded in a tone not so commanding as he would have hoped it to be.

“Fly? With what? Our only winged companion just fell into the chasm!” put practical Pimpi in between. But right at that moment the Broom came round and turned its wordy self again. And hearing the half-halfling’s last words (and considering his state of mind after all the whacking) he had all the reasons to burst into a song (as usual he could only remember the catchy chorus of this Ardavision megahit):

Fly on the wings of love,
fly baby fly.
Reaching the stars above,
touching the sky.***

Letting it pass that the stars appeared to be below and not above, the lyrics were so befitting for the situation that even grieving Grruff was shaken from her mourning. Fly + wings + love = Grruff flies to catch love! She reasoned and plunged after the couple, at the same time trying to figure out which ‘love’ she was then supposed to save.

* * * * * * *

In the meanwhile, crashing down the chasm

While all the above mentioned action went on back on the surface of the earth Mord and Chrysophylax kept falling and falling and falling and their speed kept accelerating and acceler... Well, you got the picture!

*knock, knock - WHACK*

The Balfrog was still trying to free himself of the dragon that clung to the him in a way no self-respecting dragon cared to remember. Luckily Chrysophylax’s less than half-conscious condition didn’t enable any permanent marks to be left into his memory. Yet, as Mord delivered the fiftieth or so slap on his scaled forehead, Chrysophylax managed to inch open an eye. And so he found himself face to face with one of the identical enemies he had been fighting just a while ago! Yes, this close contact with the Balfrog aided in that this time there was room for only one beast in his visual field – otherwise the dragon saw little good in his position.

Mord saw his foe squint and then prepare for a fight for his life. The Balfrog sneered; I’ll rip off your wings! he thought and slashed his whip. But trying to lash your enemy when he’s right under your nose isn’t very effective, not to mention wise – and so it happened that the only thing he managed to do with all the (s)lashing was to tie them into a nice, tight packet!

For a while there was a silence between the two that was disturbed only by the wind’s wailing in their ears. Then the not so silent silence was clearly broken as both beast uttered synchronously:

“Erm…”

The continuous falling, which had previously bothered neither the fiery Máyôr nor the almost as fiery dragon, now suddenly began to appear as a serious problem to both of them. For now that Chrysophylax’s wings were tied he all of a sudden became very aware of them. And when it came to Mordaenárur he began thinking that landing at the bottom of the void (by-passing the fact that void is usually considered as something altogether bottomless) with a dragon in his lap might prove a bit too painful even to his liking.

And just then it happened.

“Did’ya hearsh that?” Chrysophylax questioned and tried to gaze up from under the Balfrog’s armpit (not a pleasant task, one might add!).

“Think so, though your talon’s in my ear!” puffed Mord while desperately trying to get rid off his unwanted earplug.

“Cooooo!” came from above!

“Grruff!” exclaimed Chrysophylax.

“Grrrr…” went Mord.

And the two twisted and turned so that finally the bundle of fire and smoke seemed to have four arms, four legs, at least one tail and two heads facing the same direction: up towards their angelic savior.

“Cooooo?” the befuddled Nazgrrl rightly queried.

“Later, love.” Chrysophylax put it simply - and Mord wondered if he should bite off the dragon’s head now or later. But seeing that that would hardly impress Grruff he decided that later would have to do this time. “Later: you and I.” Mord murmured into the dragon’s ear right beside his jaw.

“Coo-o-ooo!” Grruff used all her means to express herself and crooked her talons around the whip that tied the rival suitors together. So the endless fall finally ended and the trio began their long way up towards the ground…
_____________________________________________

*two alternative syllabications: 1) all-together 2) all-to-get-her

** in to the Itship belonged naturally many manly males but with Kuruharan totally absent, Orogarn Two back at the box office, the Gateskeeper deep in his calculations, Grrralph trying to comfort the woebegone Nazgrrl and Vogonwë busy with composing a lament (quoted below), he was at that moment the only one available.

Our friend Chrysophylax,
He was not lax,
But dragon rough and tough,
Just right for this gal Grruff,
dragon of ancient and imperial lineage,
was he.

***Thanks go to the Olsen brothers

[ November 06, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]