Rift's World

Jarlath stares down at the being he had known for so long... the being who had gone through so much, seen so much, been so much. So many changes... a normal person would've gone insane long ago... but not Fred. Fred never was normal, thought Jarlath.

The grass of the hill upon which they stand feels cool to Fred-Triakoth's touch. As if for the first time he senses the grass, communes with it. It sings to him, a song that no Human ear could hear, nor many other kinds. The Fey could hear it, though. The song of hello.

"What is Fred doing?" whispered Annafrid. "Shhhh" whispered Jarlath. "Maybe he's in shock."

"I don't think so," grumbled Dragon Synizn. no ordinary world this, not at all... science and magic, magic and science, intertwined like crazed siamese twins vying for supremacy... stupid, stupid, stupid! this madhouse may well be the end of Fred and of us...

From beyond the hill, in the direction from which they came, another song began to be heard by the whole group. It was nothing like the elvish one before... it was garish, hard, vulgar even! They inched their way back towards the farm and field. What they witnessed was odd indeed. They saw a man dressed in a business suit. He was waving a briefcase and singing towards the field...

"He's mad," said Annafrid.

"Why do you say this?" asked Fred-Triakoth who had now gotten up from the pleasant grass.

"Look at that, Fred," she answered. "He's singing at a field of rye- grass!"

Fred-Triakoth looked at the sight with his peculiarly green eyes. He twisted his head almost as if sniffing, then turned to Annafrid. "I am Triakoth... the grass told me so. Fred is... he is... I am... I am Triakoth."

This revelation startled Annafrid and indeed the whole group. "Talking with the grass," mumbled Dragon Synizn. "Great..."

Triakoth continued. "You are mistaken, the farmer is not talking at the rye... he is talking to it. He tells it to grow."

"This world really is wierd!" someone said from the group. "Why does it sound so... bad."

Fred-Triakoth blinked in a reptilian sort of way and said, "I do not like this farmer. He tells the rye that if it does not grow he will burn it. He is a bad farmer."

"I bet he is!" said Dragon Synizn.

"But we have our own business to attend to!" said Jarlath.

1. Jarlath et al. do what they came here to do
2. Fred runs menacingly towards the farmer
3. a few of the Fey appear on the hill and...

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