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Alright, enough of this maundering blather; it's time to commit our blathering to paper (in a cyber sense) and maunder indelicately through the fair fields of Eriador (or the mirk and mire of Rhovanion).
I've decided it's best to put our story (and its requisite commentary thread) in the mirth section, where our flippancy will be better accorded (after all, there's a perennial werewolf thread there already).
Any additions or comments 'ere we begin our hazardous trek?
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And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
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