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Old 07-22-2003, 05:28 PM   #21
Birdland
Ghastly Neekerbreeker
 
Join Date: Dec 2001
Location: the banks of the mighty Scioto
Posts: 1,757
Birdland has just left Hobbiton.
Sting

The Seven Staggered Stairs and the Wonderful Wandering Woven Warrens of Minus Teeth, which had been so effective a defense during The War for That Thing, did little to aid in the swift evacuation of the city. Soon scores of citizens were trapped in a great bottleneck at the O.K. Gate. The good people of the Wight City seemed to be doomed, until it was discovered that a good shove from the panicky crowd caused the great walls of the city to bow and collapse as if they were carved from talc.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the crowd gave a great cheer and proceeded to knock down as many walls as they could. It soon became a merry game, with some rushing a particularly solid looking section to see how far the faux bricks would fly down the mountain. Others were dancing along the parapets, kicking loose great chunks of poorly mortared basalt. One adorable little lass was being held up by her grandfather as she walloped the base of the O.K. Gate with a little stick, leaving gaping holes behind her. Nobody had ever really cared much for the all those walls, anyway.

But all good riots must come to an end, and when the crowd backing up behind the impromptu demolition pointed out that the fire was gaining on them, the populace returned to their panicking and continued their flight down the Hill of Cards. Once they all reached the bottom, they promptly ran up the other side of Mount Middlin’ in order to get the best view of the burning.

It was a mixed bag that stared down the mountain in slack-jawed wonder as the mighty Minus Teeth burned down to the gumline. Men, Elves, Dwarves, Beorning, even a few uppity Halflings - who stood in the back rows - had all been drawn to the city during the post war boom. These were not great lords or warriors, but only the good, solid, honest yeomanry who had lived and worked all their small lives for the greater glory of Grundor. They didn‘t have a clue what to do, now.

“Well, it was a good run while it lasted,” muttered Imbored the blacksmith, as he picked ashes off of his tongue.

“True, true”, sighed Morwhine the barmaid, sitting down on a rock and pulling a bottle of “the good stuff” from her apron.

“Never cared much for those Seven Staggered Stairs and the Wonderful Wandering Woven Warrens, truth be told,” declared Massingil the Butcher. “Tourists liked them well enough, but I always put it down to bad planning, myself. Still, she did have her dirty ol’ charms, Minus Teeth.”

“But what shall we do now? We‘ve lost everything!“ sobbed Ashol, the Captain of the Guard.

“Get ahold of yourself, Ashol!” cried Angelina, the swimsuit model. “We rebuild, that’s what we do. We’ve gone through hard times before, but we just pulled up our underwires, and we went back to work!“

“Angelina’s right!“ cheered Christy, the game show hostess. “Who’s with us?“

“Not us,” a crowd of sooty, drunken Elves called out as they staggered past. “It’s your Age now. You fix it!“

But what about Denimthor?“ Morwhine wondered “Shouldn’t we wait here until he come by and tells us what to do next?”

“Ay! Where is our Lord Denimthor? Did he even make it out of the fire?“

“He best have. Otherwise you know who’s in charge, don’t ye? Orogarn, that’s who.“

Angelina sprang down from her rock, slung her make-up bag over her shoulder, and set off down the mountain. “I’m outa here.“

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]
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