[Child of the 7th Age]

Stoatie rambled over to the main building in the compound, the place that Ferny made his home. The room was furnished in a comfortable fashion, complete with a large storage cabinet filled with all types of ale and beers, even some fine wines imported from the south. Peering inside and seeing that no one was there, Stoatie made himself at home in Ferny's easy chair and stuck his shabby boots up on the table. He picked up one of Ferny's pipes and filled it with a handful of the finest weed, tamping it down into the bowl. Stoatie leaned back in the chair and proceeded to send up a whole raft of smokerings. A hobbit would have deemed his rings rather wobbly, but Stoatie was pleased with his results.

Then he barked out orders to the sentry standing guard commanding him to hack off a large haunch of venison from the firepit and bring it in to him on a fine silver plate which they'd stolen from one of the hobbit homes. This was indeed the life. Stoatie lolled back relaxing in the Boss's headquarters with an entire caraffe of wine in one hand and a generous haunch of venison in the other. He wiped his greasy paws on his pants, but ignored the driblets running down his chin or the grease that was spilling over and congealing on the plate.

Pretty soon he'd be living like this every day. No cares, no worries, no more frantic heists. Just a feisty woman like Bird to keep things interesting. Ferny had promised him generous recompense if he could only get the twins, and he'd come through on his part of the bargain. Now it was Ferny's turn to do a little giving.

The venison settled heavily in his stomach; after finishing the entire caraffe of wine and an ale thrown in for good measure, Stoatie found his eyes growing heavier and heavier. Within less than an hour, he had drifted off to sleep dreaming of the day when he would be boss in his own house with a woman at his side responding to his every beck and call.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]