Monday, September 12, 2011

The Servant Girls of Dol Amroth

My Fool is off on his travels again so I am forced to remain in durance vile for a few days. But this time I managed to persuade Madame Celestine to take me in as a boarder, and a general man-about-the-house. So to speak. I also persuaded Beorlich to come by with a selection of his wares (after dark). The girls were particularly appreciative.

It sure beats the Dancing Goat and old Butterbuns, let me tell you. Best of all I can avoid Beor the nasty piper man. He doesn't even know where Madame Celestine's is. Neither does the Bree Town Guard, a fact which I mention for no particular reason, let me add, except as a general statement of fact.

My mentioning the Town Guard has absolutely nothing to do with the events of the weekend, in which I was guest of honour at a party hosted by the Servant Girls of..... er.... a bunch of people from ..... er.... somewhere. Amroth? Dol Amroth? Hell, I can't remember. I'm an artist, not an intellectual geek.

Anyway, BBB was hired to play for their kinship birthday party, and boy, did we play. We played until they begged for mercy, and threw us out. The highlight of the evening was, of course, the lovely lady Gwen, all dressed (or, rather, mostly half undressed) in a cute little off-the-shoulder number that exposed her assets to all her kin. I wasn't looking, but I heard tell. She clearly thought I was a handsome devil, no two ways about it. Couldn't keep her eyes off me. I was almost too distracted to pose, preen and play. Almost.

The banter flowed. The wit was supreme. The conversational cut and thrust was enthralling. Sure, maybe a few feelings were hurt here and there, maybe a few bad words escaped in the heat of the moment, but you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. There was really no need to lodge a formal complaint or anything like that. No need at all.

It's all in good fun, and if you can't see the humour in being called a short, fat, hairy, ugly little moron of a dorf, then you really need to get a life. Honestly. Lighten up. Or maybe she was a bobbit. Whatever.

And it's simply not true that I made inappropriate physical advances to the lady Gwen. Simply not true at all. They were entirely appropriate (at the time), even if not entirely successful.

So I really don't see what all this fuss is about. I wonder if I can get the Lady Gwen's address?


  1. This is what you're off doing as I endeavor to help the lady Bluebonnett acquire taxi services to Rivendell?! Pfft, Aegthil! Exclusive rat, off having all the fun! You know, I, being a gentleman of distinguished upbringing, have no use for Madame Celestine's. I know where the elves live. They INVITE me to their parties, free-of-charge, I might add. I shall loan you no more gold for your esteem-destroying rock star ways.

    On another note, P.B. says to enjoy and be safe in your travels, Fool.


  2. There's a poster up outside the Goat with a blurry drawing and the words WANTED & REWARD above it. I can't be sure but that drawing doesn't half look like you...

  3. Pfft. What is this world coming to, when a poor lonely minstrel can't have a bit of innocent fun at a party, without bringing down the wrath of ages on his cute little head?