[Kuruharan]

The Elves took the Questers down to the pier to show them their noble craft. The Elves had been very considerate in loading all their supplies and horses onto the craft beforehand. Given the amount of supplies and the size of the horses the Fellow/gal-ship hoped that they had been given a veritable flotilla of mighty river craft.

"And here is your ship," said Celery as it came into view.

The Fellow/gal-ship was disappointed that they had only been given one boat. They were further disappointed when they got a good look at the boat. In fact "boat" was probably not the correct descriptive term for it. "Three pieces of plywood nailed together" would probably be a better way of describing it.

Their gear was piled up in the middle of the craft. Chrysophylax was taking up one whole side of the raft, and the horses were precariously balanced among the baggage on the other.

"Ummmm..." said Pimpi dubiously.

"That’s right," said Celery. "Its a wonderful craft!"

"But..." said Merisuwyniel.

"You just get aboard and everything will work out fine," said Celery.

"But..." said Merisuwyniel.

*BOP* *SMACK* *SHOVE* *KICK* *TOSS*, erupted the sounds of a sudden scuffle as the Elves "helped" the Fellow/gal-ship aboard.

There was no other way for the Questers to ride on the raft except for them to mount their horses and dragon, except for Orogarn Two who had no horse.

"But we have to go upriver for a few miles," said Orogarn Two. "We have no oars."

"Ask and ye shall receive," said Celery.

A few pathetic splinters of wood were tossed their way.

"By the way," said Earnur, "where is not-Queen Saladriel?"

"Ah...er...um, she had an appointment, yes that’s it, an appointment," sputtered Celery. "She soooooo hoped to be able to give you a good send off, but she’s all tied up at the moment." Inwardly, the word that arose unbidden to his mind was, "literally!"

"Anyway, bon voyage!" cheered Celery.

"Oh, these city dwellers have such sophisticated expressions!" Merisuwyniel thought dreamily.

The Elves of Topfloorien had broken out their ukuleles and grass skirts, and they started to play a wistful song of departure, swaying gently to the music.

"Well, off we go!" called Halfullion.

The Fellow/gal-ship leaned down from their horses to use their so-called oars. They set to their task with good cheer and vigor.

+++++++

Two days later

+++++++

"Can’t...row...another...stroke..." gasped Earnur as he collapsed in his saddle. The rest of the Questers silently agreed and they all slumped over in their saddles.

*BUMP!* went the raft back into the pier approximately two seconds later.

The Elves of Topfloorien were all sitting pathetically on the ground staring forlornly at the Fellow/gal-ship. They only managed a muted and half-hearted hum of their song of departure by this point.

"This is getting nowhere fast!" thought Celery to himself. "How are these philandering jerks supposed to drown if I can’t get them out to midstream. What if they decide to spend another night here! I’ll end up even more cuckolded than I am already!"

Suddenly, inspiration struck.

Gathering some of the other Elves, Celery and his helpers grabbed long poles and started shoving the raft away and out toward the river.

"Oh, why thank you," said an exhausted Merisuwyniel.

"Think nothing of it!" said Celery hurriedly. "Off you go!"

And off they went. They drifted out into the river and were picked up by the current.

"I say," said Kuruharan suddenly. "Aren’t we going the wrong direction."

"Huh?" said Vogonwë.

"We needed to go upstream from Topfloorien. We are rapidly going downstream," said Kuruharan.

"What difference does it make so long as we get to the other side of the river?" asked Orogarn Two.

"Hmmm..." said Kuruharan dubiously. "Getting over there may be the problem."

"Nonsense!" said Halfullion. "The way the river current is we’ll just float right over to the other side and hop off this thing without even getting our feet wet. You’ll see!"

Alas, all the Fellow/gal-ship saw was the opposite shore drift lazily by for the next two days.

"Something is not right here," said Orogarn Two.

"I’ve eaten the last of the food," announced Pimpi.

Suddenly, a horn call blared from the opposite bank. Several dark and agile river craft darted out of concealment and bore down on the Questers.

"River Pirates!" cried Kuruharan. "To the skies!" So saying, Chrysophylax abruptly took off, bearing his master out of reach of danger.

"Wait!" shrieked Merisuwyniel. "Something is wrong with this!"

"I’ll say!" bawled Halfullion, furiously trying to get Tofu aloft. "What has come over this cursed beast! Fly varmint, FLY!!"

"Horses don’t have wings!" shouted Vogonwë.

"Says you!" snapped Halfullion.

"Look out!" called Orogarn Two.

The pirate ships had closed in rapidly. The crews were scrambling preparing to board the raft and slaughter the defenders.

Earnur drew Wylkynsion in preparation for the first real battle that the Fellow/gal-ship had yet experienced on their travels. As the pirates closed in he reacted in the only way that a strong, tough slab of raw, reeking manly manliness could react.

He succumbed to a sudden fit of the vapors and fainted.

"Git," snapped Wylkynsion.

Seeing his rival’s discomfiture, Halfullion prepared to draw his blade to do battle with the foe. However, something was missing. His mighty sword of legend and lore was nowhere to be found.

"Where is it, my preciousss? Where has it got to?" squealed Halfullion in a desperate attempt to find the sword.

"You had it just a minute ago," said Pimpi helpfully.

"Wait a minute, here it is," said Halfullion. He tipped his new scabbard up into the air and {presto} a little miniature sword popped out. It looked to be just the right size to be put through an olive and served on a platter.

"Could there be a worse time for this to happen?!" yelled Halfullion.

"No!" said Merisuwyniel scornfully. How so unlike her new beau who had a much more reliable sword.

Merisuwyniel had been shooting the pirates with the Ent that was Broken, killing about five with each shot. Her markswomanship was greatly aided by the fact that the pirates were crowding together on their ships to gawk at her. However with every five that fell, fifteen more came crowding to stare.

Vogonwë was doing his part by tossing arrows at a furious pace and killing many more of the foe.

For her part, Pimpi could see little hope in resistance. They had no more food, so it would be better to surrender in hopes of getting a decent meal.

Orogarn Two was silently calling on the strength of his ancestors and his high lineage and drawing his boring, but truth be told much more useful, sword in preparation for combat.

Kuruharan and Chrysophylax glided sedately above. As an encouragement to those trapped below he pulled out his accordion and started to slowly play the mournful strains of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.

As concerned for their comrades as they were Chrysophylax could not bring himself to swoop low enough to blast the pirates to cinders. The pirates had many archers and Chrysophylax had a relative who had perished in very similar circumstances. The two of them contented themselves with providing moral support.

Suddenly, the moment of truth arrived.

"Board ‘em!" howled the pirates.

"Kill 'em!" screamed Wylkynsion, even though he was in no position to do anything at the moment.

The pirates jumped aboard with a wild "Huzzah!" and the turmoil of mortal combat began on the little raft.

Alas, the raft was not designed for this kind of rough-housing.

*GLOOP* *KA-CRUNCH* went the little craft as it simultaneously capsized and broke apart.

The pirates reacted swiftly to snatch up the valuables, and were notably slower about retrieving their comrades and the unfortunate Questers.

When this work was completed they stood on the deck of a river-boat tied hand and foot facing a deranged looking captain with one wooden leg, and a big bushy beard.

"ARRRH, Mates! Wot we got ‘ere?!" asked the captain.

"I didn’t get a word of that," said Merisuwyniel. She was desperately trying to avoid the pawing hands of the pirates. "His language is archaic and his dialect barbaric!"

"Wot you got 'ere is a sword that is too good fer ya!" said Wylkynsion.

"Hoo said that?" said the captain after a moment of bewildered glancing about him.

"Me," said Wylkynsion.

"Hoo?!" asked the captain.

"Oh for..." snarled Wylkynsion.

"Stow that," yelled the captain. "We must get arrrrh plunder ashore before darrrrrrhk. Man the oarrrrrrrrhs. Leave these bilge rats here. And somebody ‘ave an eye fer tha’ dragon."

The crew whipped into motion and rowed for the opposite bank. They went up an small tributary as it was getting dark. The Fellow/gal-ship had reached the other side of the river, but they were prisoners of the moderately dreaded, but not really quite feared, River Pirates.

From there they were lost to sight in the dark, but Kuruharan and Chrysophylax followed them.