A Trojan Horn
After the battle is won the DG turn to less pressing matters—the walls beyond the Glittergates of Elvenbone are trying to make like Jericho and only being thwarted by Arben’s strumming. After the Pech explains that it is the custom/duty of the walls to crush—to jelly—those who attempt to abscond with the treasures that have been laying about Zhagbres suggests that the Pech try to reason with the walls. The walls respond quite reasonably by refusing to relent. And so the DG are reduced to tunneling their way out with haste, and poor planning. The resut—Zombres is hypnotized and spat upon by one of our elderly friends.
Happily the DG are saved by Arben’s quick thinking—he builds a wall with this amazing instrument that permits the danger gang to respectfully escape the gaze of those whose heads are large with wisdom. The group makes their way to the last unexplored wing—which is shaped like a horse’s head and is the at least semi-permanent home of three more of our elders who give Kolya and Zombres with a hearty welcome of fire, spit—which ages Kolya quite rapidly—and a tongue lashing for the young-in-spirit,hag-in-body Zombres. Further back in the gang Diogenes and Gwyn, who understand the language of learning, realize quite against their will how wise it is to eat their clothing. The DG once again shows that its respect for their elders knows no bounds as they provide an occupation for two of the three—attempting to leave their chairs. Zombres quickly grabs 15 or so sticks from beneath the chair of the elder in the horses mouth. When assembled, these sticks make a headless mannequin.
At Zombres insistence the gang returns to the elves of dan to ask for their help. The elves seem at once peeved and perplexed by this request. The peevishness is slightly put out by gwyn’s charm, willingness to refer to the dank place through which they just strolled as the glittergates of elvenbone, and interest, feigned or otherwise, in the plight of the elves. Our translucent feasting friends don’t appear to be having as much fun as we might think. They are condemned to sit here in the land, having given up the opportunity to go West. The land, of course, is not well suited for preserving their forms which leave them large-headed, stinky, and otherwise deformed. In other words, they made the wrong choice. The gang promises to help the elves find a way West if they succeed in preserving the world—perhaps by persuading the current capitan of the Millians to release them from their earthbound promise—and the elves, out of what appears to be indifference, agree to ‘help’ in a general and unspecified way. They also give permission for the gang to take as much of the shite-covered bounty in front of the glittergates as they would like. This gold, along with the rest is poured into a cup (24,866 gold units) and the gang make their way through the spiral exit.
After a good night’s rest for all who want it (except Arben who, after all of that saving everyone over and over again had a fitful night and wakes with dark circles and a bad attitude) the gang make their way to C-town to regroup and try to identify their spoils. There they find that they are in possession of a cloak that will protect its wearer from dragon’s breath, though leave exposed extremities prone to lopping off, a horn that summons a dragon, and what appears to be the twin of a snake bangle currently in the care of the accursed Hoboken party. When united these bangles do not release snakes that bite their wearer. Then, presumably because he has not slept, Arben gives the horn to a drunk who summons a dragon.
