Lord Tristan of Rogg put aside his pen. Leaving his study, the old Elf went downstairs, clutching a metallic pail full of papers. He was met by his wife, Lady Mariel, who shook her head reprovingly at him.
" So, thats where my pail went. I've been looking all over for it. Aren't you ashamed of yourself, stealing pails!" However, Tristan looked anything but ashamed . He held up the pail and shook it triumphantly.
" Look Mariel. I've finished it. My history of Zann, the warriors journey and his companions for the golden Necros!" Mariel smiled fondly at her husband. He was the kindest Elf Arborlorn has ever seen, though when he finished one of his stories he behaved like a cheerful, eager youngster. She took hold of his old, weary hands as they walked to one of the many dining halls.
" Their all waiting, you know. Remember, you promised to read them all the story when you finished it!" Tristan chuckled.
" I don't suppose our sons would wait a day or two for me to tidy it up a bit?" Mariel stopped him dead in his tracks with a humorous laugh.
" It's not just our sons waiting to read your tale. Words got around. Every Elf in the city of Arborlorn wants to hear you read this magnificent story." Tristan tried to turn and run for the stairs but his wife held on to his hand. The aged Elf looked flustered.
" Every Elf you say? But...But....I only meant this as something for the young ones to know something about our cities heroes!" Mariel squeezed his hand affectionately.
" Now thats not fair! What about us older ones, the parents...? I for one would love to hear about it. Besides, you have a wonderful storytelling voice. Oh say you'll read it to us, Tristan. Please?" The old one allowed himself to be dragged off towards the dining hall again.
" Oh, alright! It will take a few days to tell though. Took a lot to get the full story though. I had to sit in dark bars with impatient Humans, stand under trees with talkative Elves, crouch in tunnels to speak with shifty Gnomes and Dwarves and read through dusty articles to get this whole story." Mariel walked over and said before opening the door.
" It wont matter how long you take to read the whole thing. You can space it out, a bit every evening. Nothing nicer on a winter's night, a nice long story. Now, the fires crackin, the tables set with food and everyone's waiting, so in you go!"
The dining hall was packed to the capacity. Tristan chuckled and sat down on a cushioned chair. Silence fell all over the hall, only broken as more Elves piled in and tried to find a somewhere to stand. Everyone turned and shushed them loudly, restoring the quiet once again. Tristan split open a piece of bread and stuffing some cheese in it, making a rough sandwich. Every eye was on him as he took a few bites and washed it down with a tankard of ale. The still atmosphere was broken by a small Elf barely older than five.
" Whens' the old geezer gonna get on wit' it?" The old Elf looked quizzically at his crowd.
" Get on with what?" A deafening roar rose out from the crowded hall.
" The story!" Tristan looked up in mock suprise.
" Oh, did you want me to read a story?" He clapped his hands over his ears as the noise hit him like a tidal wave.
" Yeeeeeesssssssssss!" Tristan chuckled again. He pulled the first scroll from the pail. Unrolling it across the tabletop, he put his tankard at the top edge to stop it from unfolding up. His kind, brown eyes roamed through the crowd, a smile hovering across his lips as he spoke.
" So, then, here it is. I hope you can all learn lessons from it, old and young! Take heed of it's value, and most of all I hope you enjoy it as a mighty tale of great warriors!"