Or we could have the Entmoot in the Turn 4 grandstands the second week of Feb.
Posted on 03/14/2002 5:07:26 AM PST by HairOfTheDog
LOl! Yeah, that WOULD cause a stir!
The healers can find no cure for me and while the Istari search, I fear that even they have no hope. At their suggestion I write this account. They believe that merely writing my story may ease my mind. So I begin though writing corrie-fisted is harder labor than working the forge.That's all I've been able to make out so far. The handwriting is rather erratic.My name is Dain Stormfoot now known as the Poisonhand. Grimshod Stormfoot, original owner of the famous foundry, was my father and Gordin Copperhelm (later known as Threadkiller) is my cousin. I did not begrudge cousin Gordin. He was ever better at blades and armor than I. My delight is the fine crafting of toys for the children of Men, filigree for the Elven armor, and musical flute whistles. I came late to the art of blade making with the onset of the Troll Wars.
It was I who picked up G'nad the Magnificent after that fateful battle with the Eessennet. G'nad's blade forged from the last Eerf Cilbuper steel by the master resisted the bile where no other substance would. To keep the blade from harming innocents, I took it with me back to the foundry. No cloth, leather, or water would wipe or wash the blade clean of that foul bile and it formed an acid steam that seared the lungs when it dripped into the forger's fire. However....when dripped on hot metal made a blade wondrously light and tough. Tough enough to cleave boulders. Tough enough to cleave Troll hides.
So need for the new blades was great, and I, foolishly, would allow no one else near G'nad the Magnificent for the bile of the enemy is treacherous until burned into metal. So it was that I worked late at the forge, my thoughts more on home than on the blade in my hands when the bile of the Eessennet thickened and splattered on my right hand, burning it, searing it even as it did Cousin Gordin. And so, I am known as Dain Poisonhand.
But still, I am content. The Trolls are beaten back and I am not isolated like poor Cousin Gordin. I run the foundry and my forge again crafts the beautiful objects as before. However, all is not quite right for my hand drips the noxious bile into my craftwork and while all are as beautiful as my skill can make them, I hear that if ever a child plays with those toys, or musician plays my flute whistles, all playmates leave off playing and all other instruments fall silent so that child or musician plays alone.
As for G'nad. It is hidden safe against the day when it may be needed again. I would not risk such injury to a friend.
Yeah, they always fly near your ear, with that high pitched whine (though, in the daytime, they seem to prefer ankles)...Give me cold temperatures for sleeping, which here in S. Florida, means air conditioning. Mosquitos don't fly much when it's cold either, it's a good way to cut down their activity when they're around.
There's alot of writers here, seemingly. Very nice.
Sunday, g'nad jr. threw his head back laughing before church and split his head on the pew...got an inch long gash...didn't bleed much, and he didn't fuss much but it needed to be closed...we had to Drive 20 miles to Ft Belvoir, because none of the clinics in town take TriCare (don't pay enuff)...long story short, 2 1/2 hours in the waiting room, and the doc glued it shut...next time I'll save myself the trouble and superglue it myself...that or duct tape...
BTW,I'm just not seein "slightly pudgy" in any of yer fotos...yer bein' too hard on yerself...
Or we could have the Entmoot in the Turn 4 grandstands the second week of Feb.
There's alot of writers here, seemingly.
Sam, here's the best I can do...
Bad gUys coME...g'nad CHOP!!! Bad guys go SPLAT!!! g'nad make beer...g'nad hAppy...
Whaddaya think?...
Mine behave. It's just that currently they're not talking to each other...because they apparently aren't in the same story...
SQUIRRELS GO SPLAT!!!
check this out, Squirrel Defamation League...love their store...
SQUIRRELS GO SPLAT!!!
check this out, Squirrel Defamation League...love their store...
Argh! I'm drawing a blank on the folk song (was it James Taylor?) about a man named Bill who wouldn't get the cat down from the tree...
Not to mention the cost of a new manure cart...
Interesting...the squirrels must have infiltrated your network nazis...be watchful...be afraid...
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