[Thenamir]

White teeth flashed in the sun, cracking bones like twigs and ripping the meat from them. The slavering and chomping noises could be heard several rooms away as the Gateskeeper, his manners not exactly Emily Post, enjoyed his midday meal on the porch at the inn with the red roof. The chicken was excellent, and even though he was by nature a miser Gateskeeper made sure to leave the cook and kitchen crew a nominal tip.

From his vantage point he could see quite a bit, especially the commotion going on at Sethamir's Livery Stable and Ice Cream Shoppe. From what he could see, that fetching blonde elven-lass was parting with what appeared to be a fine horse. Perhaps he was now available for sale. The sudden landing of the dragon in front of the nearby Great Mall of Missing Dentures piqued his interest, causing him to set aside his repast that he might pay closer attention. However, once the fire began to spread, he packed up, invoked the Grundorian law absolving him of paying the inn bill when the inn catches fire, and worked his way into the crowd. "I'm glad I found that dragon," he thought to himself as Chrysophylax sneezed again setting an entire side of a building ablaze, "before the Geeks at the Token-Ring of Networkgard did -- that serpent could make a great fire-wall!"

He was just about to follow the dragon away from the flaming carnage and out the city's back gate, in an attempt to win him over to his cause when the same fetching elven-lass went tearing by him, screaming something about having to "save the beau!" Now as beautiful as she was, thought the Gateskeeper, she probably had many a beau following her about trying awkwardly and in vain to start a conversation with her, and 'twould probably be natural for her to be concerned about one in particular. He would have taken no further notice of her if it were not for the fact that the beautifully crafted wooden bow slung at her back was also screaming "Hel-LO!! I'm made of WOOD! Wood BURNS!! Get me OUT OF HERE!"

Snapping back to attentiveness, the Gateskeeper realized that the curiosity of a talking bow and the news of the bow he sought could hardly be conincidence. Now he needed only a way to work his way into the affections and confidence of this lass and her companions. Then the idea struck him like a miffed union boss: her horse! Madly dashing through the burning city, occasionally taking time to point and laugh at the rapidly-blackening fortunes of some plebian, he raced back to Sethamir's Livery Stable and Internet Cafe. Sethamir, being a very practical (not to mention cowardly) man, had fled when the building next door burst into flames, leaving the horses behind.

Seeing that the building next door was three blocks down, the Gateskeeper calmly walked down the lines of flimsy stalls until he found Tofu and Falafel standing in adjacent boxes. He started to untie Falafel when the already-untied Tofu stuck his head over the wooden divider, "Would you mind untying the rest of us? we'd all like to avoid becoming well-done, if you know what I mean." The Gateskeeper was more than happy to help out, after getting over the initial novelty of a talking horse, especially since that enabled him to choose for himself the third-finest beast in the stables. Tofu, being the first, galloped off in search of a new hero with whom he could again find purpose in life. "Farewell, Falafel!" He called back over his shoulder.

"It's about time," Falafel, the second finest, half-whinnied as the Gatekeeper led her over to the saddle-gear. "Thanks for springing me from that death trap. Sethamir is a great guy and all, but he would have let me burn with the stable if he hadn't gotten paid. But who in the name of Fad-o-slacks, Lord of Horses and Fashion Pantaloons, are you?"

"Call me Ishmael," the Gateskeeper whaled, "and I'm taking you to your mistress. She ran out the back gate of Minus Teeth trying to save a wooden bow from the fire."

"Oh, that bow of hers," Falafel snorted, not bothering to hide her disdain as he allowed the Gateskeeper to quickly saddle her for riding. "She thinks more of that stupid talking bow than of her sweet Falafel, roasting alive back in the cheap stalls."

"Well, my good equine friend..." the Gateskeeper started as he saddled the roan steed he'd chosen for himself.

"You can call me Falafel."

"Well, Falafel, you are certainly a singular beast. Unless there happens to be more than one of you." He looked in the face of his own newly-acquired horse and said, "And unless you can talk, sweetie, I'll have to get Falafel to tell me your name."

Falafel acomplished the horsey equivalent of a giggle. "I don't think he'd appreciate being called sweetie, but his name in your tongue is Kebab."

"Thanks, Falafel. I think I might have something for you." He produced a couple of sugar lumps (pilfered from the former kitchens of the now-gutted inn of the red roof) and offered them to the horse who thoroughly relished the treat. The Gateskeeper smiled -- relish on sugar lumps was an odd combination, but in spite of that he knew he already had one of them on his side. The two horses and the evil magician rode away to join Falafel's mistress and her companions at the back-gate of Minus Teeth...

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