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Old 01-13-2003, 07:43 AM   #17
Estelyn Telcontar
Princess of Skwerlz
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: where the Sea is eastwards (WtR: 6060 miles)
Posts: 7,645
Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!
Silmaril

The guests had enjoyed the hospitality of the Elven Farm for two days, visiting the stables, the barns, the coops, the pens and all of the other delightful sights the enclave had to offer. On the morning of the third day, after a heartening breakfast (two for Pimpiowyn, who arose early so as to have time for an extra meal), they heard the melodious sound of a cow-bell summoning them to the council of Roneld.

They met in the gazebo where their host awaited them. The lovely Merisuwyniel, dressed festively as behooved the occasion in a royal blue divided skirt (practical, yet feminine) with a white ruffled blouse, was herself quite unruffled. She sat next to Roneld with one strong yet delicate hand resting lightly on the bow propped up next to her.

Those who had not yet met the ruler of the Hidden Valley Ranch were impressed by his imposing appearance. Orogarn Two gazed at the mithril circlet on his brow with a twinge of jealousy, wishing that he too could have a kingdom of his own and wear such royal insignia. Earnur wished to ask him the secret of his perpetually arched (very manly) eyebrows, whilst Halfullion noted in amazement a highly unusual accessory – small, round pieces of darkened glass held before Roneld’s eyes with a most cunning device made of wire.

Pimpiowyn wondered if there might perchance be pockets in Roneld’s flowing robes and if so, whether any of them might possibly contain food. Vogonwë, seated next to her, was not thinking of their host at all, but trying to find a rhyme for ‘gazebo’ in order to compose an epic poem about the occasion.

Kuruharan patted the wallet in his pocket, pleased with the first income of the day, from the sale of those ‘speck-tackles’, as their inventor had called them, to Roneld. Chrysophylax laid curled up around the gazebo; everyone pretended not to notice him, since no one cared to send that unsummoned guest away.

Roneld cleared his throat impressively before speaking welcoming words to the assembled company, which included many more illustrious persons, such as the Elf Gloryfinder, afterwards ignominiously forgotten.

“You have come with questions,” Roneld addressed them. “Here they shall be answered.”

Vogonwë turned a puzzled gaze to Pimpiowyn and whispered, “Did we have a question, darling?”

“Shhh!” she admonished him. “Just listen.”

“Orogarn Two,” Roneld continued, “you have come from afar seeking to resolve a riddle. Please tell us what it is.”

Orogarn Two stood and recited:

Seek for the Ent that was broken:
With the Cow Keeper it dwells;
There shall nonsense be spoken
More wicked than Dulldor-spells.
There shall be a token dwarf
A half-elf, elf, wizard and man,
For Isildur's cousin shall waken,
And form a big-hair 80’s band.


“I will consult the Book of Malbeth for the answer,” Roneld suggested, paging through a large volume that lay on the coffee table before him. “Let me see…s, seek, seek for…here it is!

Seek for the chip that was broken,
In Microsoft it dwells;
There shall passwords be spoken
More cryptic than Apple’s spells.


“No, I am sorry – wrong Age!” He continued paging, finally closing the book regretfully. “I cannot find this riddle; we shall have to seek the solution ourselves.”

Halfullion sprang to his feet, eager to show his superior understanding of the poetic word. “The interpretation is actually quite obvious: The Cow Keeper is Roneld, the races spoken of are represented here – except for a wizard, but who wants one of them meddling in our affairs?”

“I am Isildur’s cousin, 84 times removed,” Orogarn Two interrupted, happy to have a reason for proclaiming his lineage.

“But what is the Ent that was broken?” Earnur shouted, not wanting to be left out.

Kuruharan watched the proceedings silently, since he could see no possibility for profit so far.

All eyes turned to Merisuwyniel, who blushed becomingly at being the centre of interest. She arose gracefully and told the assembled company the astounding story of an Ent, old and venerable, cruelly hewn by orcs for its wood, made into weapons and other objects for their foul purposes. When she finished, she sat down, waiting expectantly for their reactions.

They stared in stunned and shocked silence, except for Vogonwë, who was fishing for a piece of paper in his pockets, in order to jot down “bent” as a rhyme for “Ent” before he could forgot it. Pimpiowyn was the first to speak.

“But what does this have to do with us?”

“Bring forth the Ent that was broken!” Roneld spoke commandingly to Merisuwyniel.

She laid her mighty bow on the coffee table, strangely loth to release it from her gentle grip.

“This bow was part of that Ent and indeed is still alive, seeking to be reunited with the other parts of its original Entity and to revenge itself upon its oppressors,” Roneld proclaimed.

“What, that plain old wooden bow, that looks like it belongs to some peasant?” Etceteron exclaimed disdainfully.

A humming sound began, growing ever louder and louder until it was almost unbearable. Suddenly a mighty voice chanted slowly and deliberately:

i dont know enuff 2 b
here but i dont care u c
wots a maiar???/ plz tell me
c u l8er ppl!!!


“Who dares to utter that dreadful language here, among the learned?” thundered Roneld. "Every time it is spoken, a skwerl dies!"

All stared at the bow in amazement.

“Let us hope that none will ever speak it here again,” Merisuwyniel answered. “I will do what is necessary to hinder the onslaught of the Black Tongue. Yet the important question is, what can we do to aid the Entish Bow in its quest for reunification and revenge?”

[ January 13, 2003: Message edited by: Estelyn Telcontar ]
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'Mercy!' cried Gandalf. 'If the giving of information is to be the cure of your inquisitiveness, I shall spend all the rest of my days in answering you. What more do you want to know?' 'The whole history of Middle-earth...'
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