[Child of the 7th Age]

After hours of wrangling with his sapling, Pettygast finally got the blasted thing pointed in the general direction of Elven Farm. As he angled in for his landing, he looked down with remembered fondness at the familiar face of the small fox who munched contentedly on the discarded chicken head, a sly and knowing grin plastered on her face.

With a splat, his staff descended in the middle of the council/BBQ, throwing the donkey Hummus some ways over to the side. The wizard looked about in complete panic: Elves, Men, Half-Men, Half-Halflings, and Dwarves. There was no way he could possibly remember all these names. Hopefully, since he was only a cameo wizard, no one would seriously expect him to be a whiz at names. Or at anything else, for that matter.

Best get his message out of the way. Perhaps, then he could go get a plate of chicken and keep his mouth closed for the remainder of the session. That is closed except for the chewing part.

With a flourish, he bowed low before the assembled horde who were frankly paying little attention to him. He tried pounding on the table with his sapling staff, which seemed to have but little effect.

"Ahem!" He cleared his throat and again strove to command their attention, but with only limited success. Still, a few of the folk were listening. Mainly, it was those who were waiting in the buffet line who hadn't managed to fill their plates yet.

"You there, with your mouths full, and those waiting still for chicken dinners, I have a message to deliver from the Mighty Fruit-Giver. She would say thus to you: 'In your passion and your fury for the entient bow, forget not that others still await on the shelf. Forget not the cries of the poor broom handles, and chair legs. Nor the spoons, or forks or even the broken bowls. For these too clamor for revenge, and to be reunited with their brother, the great Entish bow.'"

And at this point a thing of wonder occurred. And all who saw it dropped their plates. For the Entish bow let out a mighty groan, and a single tear dropped down to the ground to mingle with the sacred white sand. Nor could any say how that sand had appeared from nowhere for surely it was from the Place beyond the Great Rift and the Bent Seas where no one can get to but everyone wants to go, and indeed was not native to Elven Farm.

Pimpi set down her chicken leg and fixed a luscious eye on the wizard. "So will you come along with us on this quest thingie to uncover the guilty Orcs."

"Nay, for my own task lies in another direction." Here Pettygast sighed deeply. "I must search the bazaars and the rummage bins of Middle-earth until every splinter of this Ent be lain bare, and these pieces I shall bring to you. For somehow and someway, they must be reassembled."

"Yet still, if some day in bitter need, you think that you require my skills, I will surely strive to come."

Sir Gormlessar spluttered out a protest, "Here, here, this is not reasonable. For how shall we call to you from the other end of the world?"

"Gormlessar, you of small faith and even smaller mind, doubt not that I will come when called. Just sit tight and range forth your fea in the manner of the Mighty. The call to which I answer is the same one that will draw Hummus, my gentle beast, to my side." Then he raised his hand to his mouth and hallooed "HeeHaw, HeeHaw", and the donkey instantly reappeared.

He retired to the buffet line and helped himself to a piece of chicken, and found a modest place to eat, for truly he wished only to keep quiet now and think on what others would say.

[ January 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]