[Estelyn Telcontar]

Merisuwyniel’s gaze turned from a horizon that looked uncomfortably wobbly to take inventory of the motley crew which was clinging to the cart turned ark. Strange, she mused, the vehicle hadn’t seemed this large when it had rumbled along Sorethighian paths beside them. Who would have thought that it could carry so many persons and creatures, to say nothing of staying afloat under those conditions?! She wondered whether it would prove to have other, yet hidden abilities. Her hand touched a rune that was carved into the side of the cart, and she leaned forward to decipher it. Ästôn-mar-Tín, it read.

She decided to count noses in order to ascertain whether all members of the Grand-Quest-Ship were there. Let’s see, Earnur, Vogonwë, Pimpiowyn, Kuruharan, Gateskeeper, Orogarn Two too - at that point the weak spot in this procedure became obvious, for Grrralph had no visible nose to count. She did not let such a trivial technicality daunt her though, and continued – but what was that Dwarfling doing here? Oh well, perhaps he would have a role to play yet in their continuing quest. Nine persons, she finished.

Then there were the mythological creatures – Nazgrrl Grrruff and Chrysophylax, who was inextricably entangled with the Balfrog. Though the dragon was not yet sober enough to recognize his old foe, Merisu had an Elven heritage of ancient memories of battles with various members of that species, involving deaths on both sides. She was afraid, but since not even a pure-blooded Elven maiden can run around shouting “Ai!” all day, her thoughts were rather more prosaic.

Drat and bebothered! she exclaimed inwardly, How am I to solve this problem? I do not wish to kill a helpless foe coldbloodedly, but I certainly do not wish any of our group to be endangered.

While she thus mused, her eyes had continued their tally – yes, all horses were accounted for, and it looked like all pieces of the Ent-That-Was-Broken had survived the deluge. Prompted by an urge that emanated from the Bow, which was slung securely to her back as always, she reached out to touch the broom that had dropped into the adventure so mysteriously.

Of course! It too was Entish – the fortunate coincidences found no end. She made little attempt to follow the ensuing conversation; for all she knew, the first half-hour could have been only an Entish exchange of the time of day. The Bow would let her know what was of importance in due time.

Instead she looked back at yet another ruined location, remembering the swath of destruction that followed the path of the Fellow/Galship. What a horrible reputation we must have in Muddle-Mirth, she pondered, worse than a drunken football team or an over-hyped rock band. Somewhere at the back of her mind the nagging suspicion of a connection between the catastrophes and the chance absences of Kuruharan and Chrysophylax arose, but she had no time to pursue that train of thought.

Pimpiowyn, whose shieldmaidening motto was “Look and learn”, had been watching her holding the Broom and realized that it too must be Entish. Thoughtfully she bent her head toward the Elf and asked quietly, “How many more pieces of the Ent-That-Was-Hewn do you think we will have to find?”

Merisuwyniel looked at her in astonishment; the Half-Halfling had grown during the course of their quest, as Hobbits tend to do, and she was not only thinking of the physical growth spurt brought on by Saladriel’s gift of beans. Pimpi was no longer merely a comic relief Hobbit with a constant appetite and the tendency to wreak havoc with her clumsiness. She was truly becoming a shieldmaiden!

Pride in her apt pupil welled up within the Elven maiden, swelling her already fully adequate breast to impressive proportions.

Orogarn’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

The Gateskeeper took off his suddenly steamy spectacles to wipe them.

Earnur and Vogonwë were looking in the other direction, practicing the fascinating new repertoire of colourful seaman’s epithets and shanties that Etceteron was teaching the Half-Elf.

Grrralph’s reaction could not be seen underneath his hood.

The Dwarfling had fallen asleep, fortunately for his young and impressionable mind.

“I do not know,” Merisu replied. “But I do know where we must go to find out.” Standing up gracefully, though rather precariously, she announced to all, “It is growing dark; nightfall draws nigh.” (OK, even a perfect Elf can state the obvious sometimes.) “When morning comes, we shall endeavour to reach the shore of this newly created lake. Then we shall find our way to the Forest of Canned Corn. That is the ancient home of the Ents; I hope we can learn there how our Quest can be achieved.”

Falafel watched her mistress with pardonable pride in her wisdom and leadership. However, if her breast also swelled, none took notice of it…