The Reunification of the Entish Bow - RPG

[Kuruharan]

“Now what?” asked Pimpi.

Merisuwyniel drew herself to her full height and her eyes shown with the light of one who is about to achieve a lifelong goal. “Yea verily! We must proceed onward to the Velour and the accomplishment of our Quest!”

“HUZZAH!!” cried the rest of the Gallowship, or some of them anyway.

“But how do we find them?” asked Pimpi.

“For those whose souls are true and strong,” intoned Merisuwyniel, “who are loyal to the Quest…Behold! The light of the Velour will reveal itself and show the way to those who are pure in spirit and…”

“Why don’t we just follow the signs,” interrupted Orogarn Two.

Sure enough, enormous signs proclaiming in sizzling neon pink “VELOUR THIS WAY!!!” lined a gigantic highway meandering through rococco hills off into the distance.

Mounting their horses (and dragon) the entire group began the last stage of their journey.

“I don’t see why you people couldn’t have walked,” said an annoyed Kuruharan to Cirkdan, Neemoi, and Macaw, who shared his perch atop Chrysophylax.

“Physical…ACTIVITY…is not…MY…cup…of tea,” said Cirkdan.

“I can tell,” said Kuruharan, reproachfully jabbing a finger into Cirkdan’s middle.

“Talk to my physician he’s in charge of my diet,” snapped Cirkdan. He turned to look at the parrot.

“Blast it Dim,” Macaw squawked, “I’m a doctor, not a…wait a minute.”

Down on the ground, Merisuwyniel’s ears pricked to a mysterious sound. “What’s that noise?” she asked.

“What noise?” asked Gateskeeper.

“I hear it too,” said Halfemption. “It sounds like the charging of a group of great beasts. How strange, I thought Valleyum was a dull and peaceful land.”

“Let’s climb this hill to get a better view,” said Merisuwyniel.

The group above them already had a better view and whatever they saw seemed to have started an argument. However, the rest of the group took no notice.

“Look,” said Soregum, “there is a great dust cloud to the North.”

“Aha!” cried Reaperneep from his perch on Merisuwyniel’s saddle pommel, “Let them come! I will be able to display my prowess with a blade!”

The harsh sound of shouting fell upon their ears as the quarrel on the dragon grew heated. It seemed Kuruharan and Chrysophylax had some sort of dispute with Cirkdan, Neemoi, and Macaw. The rest of the Gallowship still took no notice.

And, as if in answer to the squabbling, there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. Across the vapid countryside they dimly echoed. Great horns from the North wildly blowing. With the horns came yet another note. Hounds, hounds, hounds. Great hounds from the North wildly barking.

Suddenly, a great stampede of creatures broke from cover and scattered in all directions. With them ran the usually sedate Elves and mighty Maya, their faces fallen into masks of abject terror.

“Run away!!! Run away!!!” they all screamed.

“Cowards! Poltroons!” shrilled Reaperneep. “Stand and fight you villains!”

Above them, Cirkdan seized hold of Chrysophylax’s tail, trying to steer him in the other direction. Kuruharan hopped up and down, stuck a hand in his robes and pulled out a very small object. He said something strenuously, but the words were lost by the distance.

“What do you suppose all this ruckus is about?” inquired Orogarn Two.

“Ummm,” said Merisuwyniel dubiously.

“Look!” cried Halfemption.

Several hills away a pack of hounds burst into view. They were bigger than houses, much bigger than houses. They were charging due South, but then turned and started charging West. As they vanished behind the next hill the Rider appeared. At this distance it was impossible to see him distinctly but he was dressed in crimson and white and a light seemed to surround him and emanate from him. As he topped the hill he raised a great golden horn to his lips and blew a great merry blast that shook the countryside. Then his great horse leapt down the slope after the hounds. A few seconds later a band of smaller figures, also in scarlet and white, went running over the hill and then vanished.

The noise began to recede.

Above them, the argument had abruptly ceased and Kuruharan resumed his seat with an air of smug and insufferable complacency.

“They seem to be moving off,” noted Gateskeeper dryly.

“Cats!” cursed Reaperneep, “He looked to my eyes to be a worthy foe! After him!”

“No,” said Merisuwyniel, “we must be on our way. However, if that was who I think it was, then you shall see him again.”

And the party resumed its journey.

[Rimbaud]

Shaken, but not stirred, as the great but spittlesome Third Age poet Eean the Phlegming would have had it, they went on through the land; as a stoat pushing through an anti-stoat fence; soon they were, so totally like, near Valleyfornia.

“All the leaves are brown,” said Hal perceptively and pre-emptively, suspecting someone might soon make the same observation.

“And the sky is grey,” mentioned Meri. “Looks like we’re in for a bit of a walk.”

“On a winter’s day,” shivered Hal in return. “I’d be safe and warm, if I was in LA.”

“Where?” asked Meri. Hal said nothing, but at that moment the sun came out from through the clouds, and spread warm light upon the Wellittakesusawhilebutwegetroundtoiteventually-ship.

“Valleyfornia’s beamin’,”said Hal, dreamily. “On such a winter’s day.” And indeed before them, the sunbeams alighted lightly on the City of the West, which the author would love to suggest was gleaming spires, with perhaps the odd minaret thrown in, but was rather some rather pricey looking stuccoed villas, and carefully manicured lawns. It was eerily quiet.

“Quite finished?” asked Orogarn. “We do have work here, not mere idle banter.”

And so they walked down the broad avenue, into the heart of the sun’s final location. They saw a sign for what appeared to be a great high street, or shopping centre, which reminded them of the boutiques of Topfloorien. This place was called Valleyfornication.

“I expect,” mused their fair Elven leader, “that the inhabitants of this wondrous yet curiously deserted place are at the mall.”

If she was honest, the idea of a little boot-shopping in Valleyfornia did also seem pretty righteous. She pushed this pedal-purchase-penchant to the back of her mind and led them on.

Yet the party were hungry, and at a sign saying Mamas and Papas’ Nip-in Nippon Dining, they stopped for refreshment. The tables were terribly low, but they were ravenous enough not to care.

So they stopped into a place, they passed along the way. Well, they got down on their knees, and they began to eat. The Fellowship, they liked the food – thought they were going to stay. Valleyfornia dinin’ – such a winter’s day.

When they were sated, it was time to take stock. Hal took vegetables, and Vogonwe collected up gravy boats. When they had taken stock, it was time to appraise their situation.


“So what’s the gist of what you chaps are up to, anyway?” asked Hal reasonably.

“It’s complicated,” sighed several people.

“…Ents…”

“…broken…collected…reunified…”

“…bosoms…”

“…great quest…very heroic…Elrond…”

“…stockings…”

“…need to find the rest…to be honest…no real idea…”

Eventually, Hal thought he had the story straight. He was stuck in a party of the most ludicrous insanity, with a slim chance of survival, no chance of dignity, and the ominous fear that at any minute his storyline might be corrupted by a veritable gaggle of puns. Unfortunately, he knew not that the correct collective noun for the pun was in fact a ‘punishment’. This, as will be seen, was as apt as one might singularly imagine. And ones were about to become singularly important. Because, as any child worth his salt knows, firstly – salt isn’t worth much, and secondly, if a large group goes shopping together, in no short order separation ensues.

Valleyfornication mall was huge, the size of a small country. And it was teeming, oddly not with teams, but with people. People who liked each other a lot, or rather just liked the word like a lot.

Thus it was, among the shops of Valleyfornia, that the Notagainship was rendered, rent and remaindered.

Hal found himself wandering, if not as lonely as a cloud, then certainly as ambivalent as a mild fog. He trudged through the bright lights and vast crowds. He would have trudged slowly over wet sand, but no one would get that. He ambled through the thickets of bleached blonde baby-faces of this western oddity.

So lost was he in thoughts of this strange place, that he bumped into Merisuwyniel inadvertently.

“Ah,” he said gallantly, feeling more like his brother than normal. “How are you?”

“Fine, Hal, fine,” she said “but we need to get on with finding the Velour.”

At the exact moment she said the word, a giant bubble appeared before them, rotating and blue. It popped, *pop*, and inside sat a small man, no taller than three inches, sitting on a flying carpet.

“Velour?” he squeaked.

“I’m dreaming,” murmured Hal.

“Of genie?” questioned Merisuwyniel. “Let us follow him.”

And follow him they did, for he set off through the shopping district at a ferocious pace. They weaved through the thronging Elves until they came to a great staircase. Before the staircase was a peculiar feature: what appeared to be a water-fountain, but rather than clear water, strange devices tumbled noisily down to smash on the stone base of the thing. They were black or silver, with strange apertures on one side, and blinking red eyes on the top. They clicked and buzzed oddly, and occasionally emitted blinding flashes.

“Fount Olympus,” murmured their guide. “No pictures up here.”

“We must summon the others,” cried Merisu. “Hal, your brother carried a piercing tin-whistle. Do you have a family heirloom of similar use?”

“Sadly,” began Hal, in his doleful voice, “my family left me an actual loom as my heirloom. I suppose it’s what you would call irony. It’s of no use now. However,” he added, brightening and feeling at something tied to his belt, “I do have this trumpet.”

“Then call the others!”

He did, and they arrived all at once, with the convenience of large groups in poorly narrated stories. They stood gazing at the stair, which wound its way up beyond the clouds that formed, oddly, below the ceiling of the great hall. Inscriptions were carved on each step: “All that glitters is gold”, “She knows if the stores are closed”, “A songbird who sings” and so on.

Thus they went on the stairway to heavens higher than the clouds, with feet of lead, but hearts of zeppelins. They were nearly there now.