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Now was the time of Darkness. Now for Fear!
Filbus, O' Saint of Bristlebane, had fallen
from the grace of his Drunken Hobbit God
and Fear commanded his halfling heart.
Like an assassin, Filbus slit the bird's
feathered throat. He clamped his teeth
Upon the aviak's hollowed spine
The bird cried out once – and they fell together.
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Filbus calmly dragged the body to a flame
Deposited the bird on the fiery logs
The fat sputtered in the heat – the smell was good
But Filbus had no design to feast...
With red 'round his eyes, he wandered
Slaying all the aviaks of the island
and dragging their bodies to the open fire
whereupon he deposited their corpses
He croaked many guttural, foul things
From the once charming mouth of that
Most revered Halfling warrior.
Finally, there were enough bodies.
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Filbus took to a knee before the sacrificial pyre
O', worm of heaven!
He declared, coldly peering 'pon the pyre
O' fat bacon of my deranged heart!
I have heard your laughter, Bristlebane
I know that you have not forgotten me
But you play this prank... for why??
Why lead me to think you are Cazic-Thule?
Is this not most cruel to do?
Against I? Who have so righteously.
and valiantly. And honorably upheld
The merit of your drunken, lecherous name?
The fat in the flames sizzled, popped
Great plumes of waxy black smoke soared
Upon the air like the wings of dead aviak's
Whose children would know not but Terror.
Suddenly beholding the scene of his making
Filbus turned to flee. But he was not
Free of the fire's soot. It wreathed his face
and he levitated from the ground
Surely, Filbus thought to himself,
As he floated away from the island,
purely at the will and whim of wind
Bristlebane will save me now?
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