| By the pen of Eylee Zephyrswell --
Though the tight lipped Professor A.M. Fiddlewiz was sometimes difficult to coax a tale from, Twiddy enlightened me many a time with the tales of their shared past. Like many halflings, he has an innate storytelling ability that would shame many a trained bard, or at least he carries on as if he does.
It is clear that the more I get to know my companions, the more I have come to believe they were all in some way fated for this journey. Of them, only I seem out of place, as if I somehow forced the hand of fate to include me. The sun dropped low in the sky, and as it cast a final spray of light on the tree tops of the Misty Thicket, a chorus of voices rose up from the village of Rivervale. The home of the halflings was dressed in all the colors of Myrthday, and the sunset marked a shift in the festivities. Over the squeals and squeaks of many a successful prank were the songs and cheers of a birthday celebration, and not just any birthday, this day marked the 50th year that Twiddy Bobick had walked, skipped, and jumped his way across Norrath, and the whole of the village came out to celebrate him as he entered his prime. Merrymakers flooded into the party in a parade of costumes and dancing; debutants wore masks and mocked the lads close at their heels, old folk dressed as characters from tales to delight of the infants, and young ones hobbled in atop stilts in their fake beards and oversized tunics, scolding elders in mock ups of their own voices. Twiddy stood at the helm of his boat and raised a drink high. Below him, the crowd let out another cheer and lifted their own drinks before taking a long swallow of whatever spirit they had filled it with. The scaffolding that held the R.N.S. Mudskipper up high in the center of the vale was surrounded by a mess of tables spilling over with juicy roasts stuffed with cabbage and apple, and salads of wild spring lettuce topped with shavings of roasted nuts, and crispy jum-jum pies with their sugared purple insides. Though the boat might one day hold a mess of passengers, it was in the middle of construction and its deck had just enough room for Twiddy and his most honored guests. Twiddy himself sat on poop deck presiding over everything like a king at his court, and the town elders, as well as Twill and Liddy Bobick, his well aged parents, sat below him on a long table of fresh oak that his father had just put the finishing touches on that day. Everyone beamed with pride and good drink, Twiddy's father more than any other. He spent the whole of the night boasting of his son's fine skills; Twiddy had already proven to be an accomplished carpenter and was bringing them the first of many vessels in their very own halfling navy, so there was much to celebrate. Read more here. |
