In a world that knows no "accurate" time, or space, or perimeter, and one that makes up its own rules on time and geometry, but one that is so wildfully imagined that even the most skilled architect could not plan it out if The Planet was a mere house, up in the heavens of, this time the Second of the Sisters, gods bickered - all over a mere trifle, one must think!
A very simple trifle indeed.
"I still do not agree that Lord Omnied shall go up there!" scowled one of the Lords, as the eight sat on their thrones in the red circle - "I say, we shall call the four explorers back from their goblinn mission and ask for Mistress Stone to go downans talk to King Martin."
"It's all because I'm rather fond of women!" quoth Mistress Snoowdrop, eyeing Lord Cruz suspiciously. "I only love every single one!"
Lord Trousse laughed openly. Being caught, he stuffed his mouth with crustless, paper-thin bread, with a slice of croppah on it and munched anxiously. Croppah was like butter - except that it was pink, and tasted - no; I shall simply describe that it was made from a pixie's saliva, which was actually very thick and very pink and tasted - no; I will keep my promise.
But, being a picky eater, and a very nervous speaker, Lord Trousse choked on his slice of bread and Croppah and Lord Gremlen had to kindly pat his back so that he wouldn't fall to the floor and barf out the delicate food.
After that, Lord Trousse asked a little brown bird, which had just happened to have flown up to the clouds, to go and fetch him some other food from the corner of his thatched house, one that happened to be on the very outskirts of the Second Triplet's Heaven, and one that very kindly was near a dimpled crease in the clouds.
Soon, it came back, miraculously holding an enormous tray filled with goods which was balanced on the little beak. And then, settting the delicasies on the little table, it flew off.
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