The March to Bardhaven

Packing was completed quickly, assembling weapons, instruments (both scientific and musical) a reference library, stout shoes, food-rations, and many towels. These I shared out to each of my fowly sherpas, not over-burdening their wee frames.



As daylight spread we assembled for the jaunt to Bardhaven's Manse, each bird clucking and chirping happily under their charges, and eager for the journey.



I sped my noble steed, Johnny Thunder, ahead, furiously we charged across the plains and streams of Kittiwickshire, straining forward, unstopping in our gallop, the wind rushing in hair and mane as the yards hurriedly swept underfoot, the quiet morn broken only by a constant thwumping and squealing in our wake...Eventually, I turned to investgate this noise...



The sweet birdy bearers recovered from their bruises and consoled by a fine fish feast, we set out again, this time safely in a Conestoga. I scritched ruffled feathers as we drove along, a cheerful song escaping from my lips, the pengis squwaking along..



"Got a whale of a tale to tell you, birds, a whale of a tale or two-ooo
'Bout the flapping fish and the girls ive met
on days like this 'fore the sun has set
a whale of a tale and it's all true,
I swear by my "hottie" tatoo!

There was dainty Darkling..
twere a mirthsome modelin' maiden
and her eyes so sparkling
evidenced of patience fadin'
Her witchwand quicker than any tombstone gun
when they saw the wand in hand the griefers knew to run

Oh, Got a whale of a tale to tell you, birds, a whale of a tale or two-ooo
'Bout the flapping fish and the girls ive met
on days like this 'fore the sun has set
a whale of a tale and it's all true,
I swear by my "hottie" tatoo!"

(to be continued)