An Unexpected Vir(tu)al Party

[piosenniel]

"Lady Piosennial, may I have a word with you?"

At the sound of that honeyed, and exquisitely modulated, question the three companions turned about. Their three pairs of eyes fixed on the vision that now stood mere inches from them, her dainty feet in the dusty rubble of the now destroyed section of the ballroom’s wall. Amazingly so, not one speck of dirt or mote of dust clung to her slippers. And it seemed the hem of her raiment, as if by some olden magics, seemed to inch up as needed so as not to encounter the dusty, dirty floor.

Bird leaned in close to Pio’s ear, asking sotto voce, “Do I have a concussion from that tumble?” She gave the apparition a slow once over. “’Cuz I swear I’m seeing someone from ages ago in one of our Dragons and Dungeons games!! – Laydeee Piosenniel” From behind the both of them, Angara gave a snort indicating both her agreement and her amusement.

Pio tapped Bird lightly on the shin with her boot, while ignoring completely the commentary from the Wyrm. She swiped her dusty hands quickly on her vest and stepped forward to greet the newcomer. Instructions, heard long ago from one who had thought to train her in court-like etiquette, rose up in her mind. She smiled and nodded toward the woman and remembered to speak politely.

“What is on your mind m’Lady?” she offered.

Pio nodded as the woman began her story. Her minded drifted, the effects of too many mugs and not enough food during the evening. She did manage to bring her attention back around just as the lady said, “…Will you grant me a small part of your realm to continue my tale?"

“My ‘realm’?” Pio asked, her brow furrowed. Bird and Angara were now convulsed in none too silent laughter. “Might I ask what ‘realm’ that might be?”

[Estelyn Telcontar]

"If my memory of the golden Âr-Pé-In days of yore still holds true, you are the one who holds the keys and can grant me the right to tell my story there. And who knows, mayhap I can encourage others to share theirs as well. Are you willing and able to do this for me?" Merisuwyniel asked.

[piosenniel]

Ah! The sconce was now lit in a dim and cob-webbed cellar room of Pio’s mind. “That realm!” she nodded.

She reached into the back pocket of her leather leggings and pulled out a thin, black, rectangular object. Just a little larger than the palm of her left hand. Its face was smooth and rather mirror-like. And with a light tap of her forefinger, the mirrored surface lit up and seemed to come to life with tiny little, and rather odd-looking, pictures. Or symbols, really. With a practiced rhythm, Pio tapped here and there, revealing other scenes seemingly captured behind the mirror.

‘Here we go,” Pio said, glancing up from the device with a smile to the lady. “I have to say I haven’t traveled in those lands for ages now. And the memories are quite dim. Although…” Her face lit up with a smile as the picture of a flag from a ship she’d once sailed on appeared - The Lonely Star.

Shaking loose from those pleasant, but now passed, scenes, the Elf brought up a picture of golden letters on a black background. Interspersed with the golden letters was a smaller ghastly sort of green writing. “Just have to log in here as Moderator,” she explained, tapping a few more places on the screen. She glanced up at the befuddled look on the lady’s face as well as on that of her other companions. “Uh… yeah… ‘log in’ is a sort of secret word for ‘keys’. And ‘moderator’ is my title in that realm – kind of like ‘Queen’ or ‘Princess’ but without a bevy of handmaidens and servants or a steady flow of monies or treasures flowing in for the use of my time and energy.”

“There you go, m’Lady,” Pio exclaimed, glad to have remembered the URL, her password, and the general layout of the Âr-Pé-In realm.

“Just click your heels together three times and you’ll find yourself there – with as many as you’d like to bring along for company.” She made a final tap on her device and the mirror blackened as she slid it back into her pocket.

“Oh, and by the way, I’ve left you a message in the Âr-Pé-In Game Planning & Discussion barrow of my, ummm, realm. Very easy to find," she said in an assuring tone.

"Have fun!!!”

[Arry]

Arry watched as Envinyatar crossed the room and slipped out the door. “I sure hope our paths cross again,” he murmured to himself. Seems like an interesting man – lot deeper than he lets on.

Glancing around the room he noted that the demolition of a section of wall by the two dragons had not seemed to perturb most of the party-goers. He had not been to a previous party and wondered what outrageous incidents might have occurred that the partiers were immune to such events.

Pio, he saw, was still in conversation with a very beautiful lady. Serious conversation, it appeared. Arry rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering what that was all about. Was the woman planning on hiring Miz Pio? Behind them, still looking a bit bedraggled, was Angara and another woman. He narrowed his eyes trying to picture her more closely. “I wonder if that’s the Elf’s old friend she talks about so fondly.” His brow furrowed as he dug deep for a name. “Bird”, he said aloud, nodding his head in confirmation. “That must be her! Looks just like the way Miz Pio described her.”

Remembering the strange device Enivinyatar had given him, Arry reached into his vest pocket where he’d placed it. “I wonder what this does?” He sat down at the table and placed the slender box-like object on the table’s top, turning it around slowly to see all sides. His eyes were drawn toward bright crystal jewel in the top of the box. “Vin said he’d found it in a cave by the western sea. And it’s from the Old Fellow’s time.” Arry picked it up for a closer look. “How cool is all that!!!”

He put it down once again in front of him. Trusting nothing too outrageous would happen if he gave it a try, Arry pushed the crystal button as Envinyatar had instructed. There was a quiet click followed by a soft hum. Then a rich voice sang out as if the singer were right here next to him.

“It really is him, the Old Fellow, Mister Tolkien, himself!!!”

Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
For many a year he had gnawed it near,
For meat was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
And meat was hard to come by.

Up came Tom with his big boots on.
Said he to Troll: ‘Pray, what is yon?
For it looks like the shin o’ my nuncle Tim,
As should be a-lyin’ in graveyard.
Caveyard! Paveyard!
This many a year has Tim been gone,
And I thought he were lyin’ in graveyard.’

‘My lad,’ said Troll, ‘this bone I stole.
But what be bones that lie in a hole?
Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o’lead,
Afore I found his shinbone.
Tinbone! Thinbone!
He can spare a share for a poor old troll,
For he don’t need his shinbone.’

Said Tom: ‘I don’t see why the likes o’ thee
Without axin’ leave should go makin’ free
With the shank or the shin o’ my father’s kin;
So hand the old bone over!
Rover! Trover!
Though dead he be, it belongs to he;
So hand the old bone over!’

‘For a couple o’ pins,’ says Troll, and grins,
‘I’ll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins.
A bit o’ fresh meat will go down sweet!
I’ll try my teeth on thee now.
Hee now! See now!
I’m tired o’ gnawing old bones and skins;
I’ve a mind to dine on thee now.’

But just as he thought his dinner was caught,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind
And gave him the boot to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A bump o’ the boot on the seat, Tom thought,
Would be the way to larn him.

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the mountain’s root,
For the seat of a troll don’t feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan.
And he knew his toes could feel it.

Tom’s leg is game, since home he came,
And his bootless foot is lasting lame;
But Troll don’t care, and he’s still there
With the bone he boned from its owner.
Doner! Boner!
Troll’s old seat is still the same,
And the bone he boned from its owner!


Sam’s Rhyme of the Troll
--- J. R. R. Tolkien

[piosenniel]

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the mountain’s root,
For the seat of a troll don’t feel it.
Peel it! Heal it! . . .

The voice of the Old Fellow came to her ears just as she finished her conversation with the lovely Lady. Try as she might, the Elf could not recall having met her, and no name sprang to her mind even as if might have been mentioned in some passing conversation. The Lady did seem as if she might be an interesting person to get to know. She was from out of town, Pio guessed, trying to place her pattern of speech. And the seemingly archaic references she had used made the Elf curious as to just exactly where and when she had come from.

“Better keep an eye on her,” Pio murmured to herself. “Didn’t see any obvious weaponry about her – but it always pays to be on the cautious side.” She turned to see Bird and Angara giving the Lady’s departing form a curious appraisal. “Don’t ask,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know either!!”

Bird, with a now small Angara perched on her should, pointed at a table inside the Great Hall. ‘Don’t sees how we can fix this at the moment,” she said, gesturing at the dusty rubble where the wall had collapsed. “But let’s go sit over there and catch up. Haven’t seen you in ages!” Bird laughed at her words. “Ages! Get it – Ages!” She punched Pio in the shoulder to emphasize her point.

Angara, for her part, rolled her eyes and snorted.

Once they’d sat down, with the dragon settling comfortably on the table top. Bird waved over a server and ordered drinks all around, including a bowl for Anagara. “Now,” she began having taken a satisfying swig of ale. “What’s going on with you? “I noticed you came alone?” Angara cleared her throat at this question. “Oh,” said Bird, “alone with Angara then, right?”

Pio narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Yes, we came together . . .” She looked at the Wyrm. “And yes, it has been ages. All our kids are now grown and their children’s children, too.” Brushing her fingers lightly on the table to give herself a little time to consider how much to say, she nodded her head slowly, “We’re just tramping around a bit. Seeing some of this part of the wilds.” And, of course, seeing a few old friends,” she went on. “Before we head south . . .”

[Arry]

When the song finished, the crystal button on the device went dim. Arry picked the little song box up and placed it carefully in his vest pocket. He looked over to where Pio and her two companions were seated close together at a table, deep in conversation. Gathering up his guitar and rucksack he made his way over to where the Elf sat.

“Hey, can a fellow buy you all another round of ale?” He flashed his best smile at the three.

[piosenniel]

“Before we head south…”

Just that half sentence had captured Bird’s attention. She leaned in closer to Pio, her eyes narrowing. “South,” she echoed. “Now isn’t that interesting. You know, I…” Her stream of thought was cut off by a politely voiced, “Hey, can a fellow buy you all another round of ale?”

Angara sidled up to Arry, answering his smile with a toothy grin of her own. “Why, yes, my dear Arry. That would be just the thing” She managed a dry cough as if to emphasize her point. “I don’t know what these two want, but would you mind getting this old Wyrm one of those delicious looking bright green drinks with the frothy topping?” her long thin tongue flicked out and licked at her upper lip. “I heard someone say it’s made with juniper berries gathered at the summer solstice. And most delicately infused with wild flowers and a dash of refreshing herbs.” Angara closed her eyes and seemed to actually be purring at the thought. "Sounds quite delectable, doesn’t it,” she said, nudging Pio with a talon.

Pio arched her brows at the description of the drink. “Delectable? Maybe…. But do you think you should have that on top of the ale you’ve already downed?” Angara gave her a dismissive lift of her snout. "Thank you for the offer, Arry,” Pio went on. “And yes, we’d like to take you up on your offer!”

Bird added her thanks too, looking the young man up and down. “Friend of Pio’s?” she asked. “I’m Bird,” she said introducing herself as she extended her hand.