[Mithadan]

The noise of the Golden Roof's collapse and its accompanying music woke the Gallowship. They ran to the door of the Inn and watched as men ran to and fro assessing damage, carrying poles to prop up the roof and chasing shadows in an attempt to capture the perpetrators of this vile deed. In the midst of the commotion, Chrysolphylax flew in, bearing a dusty and bruised Kuruharan.
"Where have you been?" asked Etceteron suspiciously.

"Oh, just flying about, scouting out the neighboring lands," answered Kuruharan as he nonchalantly brushed masonry dust from his trousers.

"You didn't have anything to do with the collapse of the Golden Roof, did you?" asked Merisuwyniel as the Dwarf picked pieces of mortar from his beard.

"Painted!" he cried. "I mean, no! Not at all. What would I be doing with a roof anyway?" He yawned mightily. "Well, time to turn in." He turned and swept dramatically through the doors of the Inn.

The Gallowship followed, and walked through the hall towards their rooms. Suddenly, Pimpiowyn stopped. "Hungry?" asked Etceteron without much interest. "Yes!" she replied. "But where is Grrralph?" Indeed, Grrralph was nowhere to be found...

---------------------------------

...unless you happened to be on a hilltop several miles away, which was exactly where Grrralph was. He had sat quietly as the Gallowship had drunk its way through a hogshead of ale that evening and watched as they devoured platter after platter of spicy Balfrog wings. He, of course, ate and drank nothing. His...malady precluded such activities. But throughout the evening, his gaze had been drawn over and again to Merisu and the bow which was slung upon her shapely shoulder.

When the Gallowship retired to their rooms, Grrralph found that he could not sleep. He slipped out from his room and wandered down the hall until he reached Merisu's quarters. He examined the lock and then drew out a long dagger which he inserted into the keyhole. After some fiddling, he was rewarded with a click. He stood there for a moment, then sheathed the dagger and walked off into the night. He entered the stable, saddled his horse and rode off towards the east.

The hill he climbed was bare and rocky. The hilltop was cold, just like he liked it. A wind rushed from the west and the skies were clear. He tilted his head back and emitted a long drawn out wail which the wind promptly seized and carried off towards the distant Mountains of Moredough. Then he sat down and waited.

Perhaps an hour passed before the rushing of great leathery wings roused him. A Nazgul landed on the hilltop and its rider jumped down. "Oh, it's you," said the Thingwraith. "You rang Lurch?"

Grrralph bristled at the words of the Wraith and his hand...black glove, almost of its own volition reached toward the hilts of his sword. Then he stopped and stood straight before the wraith as he answered. "Ssssam," he said as pleasantly as he could manage. "How's Tricks?"

"She's fine," answered Ssssam. "But what do you want, Tall, Dark and Gruesome?"

Grrralph's breath hissed between invisible teeth. "You still haven't foregiven me I see..."

Ssssam responded in a mocking voice. "'Just go on up to the Gates of the City, Jjjjohn. Knock and maybe they'll let you in.' 'Oh don't worry about the Shieldmaiden, Jjjjohn, she can't hurt you.' 'Whoops, there goes Jjjjohn.' He was the captain of our team and you talked him into that fight."

"I thought the prophecy referred to Man as a race, not man as in a male..." snapped Grrralph.

"You thought?" hissed Ssssam. "That was your first mistake... yoooow!"

Grrralph, who stood about 2.5 meters tall, grabbed Ssssam, who was maybe 1.3 meters in platform hob-nailed boots and lifted him into the air with one...glove. The Nazgul hissed until Grrralph swatted its snout with his free glove.

"Listen screwhead," growled Grrralph. "I'm here on business! Geeeeorge told me you guys and your boss are looking for some hunks of wood. Why?"

"The Boss says they're magical and he wants 'em," squeeked the suddenly much more polite Wraith.

"What do they look like?" demanded Grrralph.

"All different shapes and sizes," whined Ssssam. "They've been crafted into bows, guitars, artificial limbs and such. Look, I'm sorry. Put me down Grrralphie, would ya?"

Grrralph dropped the very contrite Sssam into a puddle that had been created by the nervous Nazgul. "Who's your boss?" asked Grrralph.

"A cockroach, aaaaiiii!" Grrralph had placed his red spike-heeled boot onto Ssssam's chest and pressed him down into the puddle. "C'mon Grrralph, I can't take the uniform off you know. OK! It's Môgul, Môgul Bildûr!"

Grrralph stepped back. "The name's familiar, but I can't place it," he muttered.

"Why do you want to know, Grrralph?" asked Ssssam as he stood up and tried to brush the dampness off his cloak.

"I'm...thinking of changing jobs," he replied. "I thought maybe if I could find some of this wood, maybe I might be able to cut a sweet deal."

"Sure, Grrralph," said the Wraith as he backed slowly away towards his Nazgul. "We'd love to have ya!"

Grrralph stepped forward and grabbed Ssssam again. "Do something for me, junior. Find Grrruff. She's hanging out in the Gloomy Mountains, on the south side of Moredough. Send her to me."

"Sure, sure!" whispered Ssssam as the taller Wraith released him. "Right away!"

Grrralph turned and walked back to his horse. Then he stopped and called over his shoulder. "Ssssam..."

"Yeah Grrralph?" answered the second Wraith as he mounted his Nazgul.

"Don't ever call me 'Lurch'...."

[ September 04, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]