Jacque spoons out helpings of venison stew for his visitor and himself into carved wooden bowls. He draws two mugs of red wine from a small keg in the corner. A loaf of dark chewy bread appears on the rough table along with a large hunk of cheese. So mon vieux, 'ave you come for my famous 'ospitality? Or was zere something else you wished to discuss?
The Grey Wanderer wrote:
Jacque takes a healthy swig Ah! Brandy! From the Old Lands! Just the thing to chase bad dreams away. Come! I have venison and onions tonight! We shall eat like kings of the forest, no?
The Grey Wanderer wrote:
The lumberjack shrugs in a quintessential Gallic manner I 'ave a cottage outside ze forest by ze river Drolo. You may find me zere. Good day, mon vieux. The lumberjack saunters off humming. Occasionally he tosses his axe into a tree, yanking it back out as he passes.
The squat burly man laughs, a short barking sound. Mon vieux you 'ave come to ze right man! I am Blacque Jacque Shellacque, ze mightiest lumberjacque that ever felled a tree! I shall hitch my giant purple pet moose Napoleon to as many logs as you should desire and bring zem up to zis 'place of the Winds.' 'Ow many do you need, and what shall you give me in return?
By a river bank, the short man unlimbers his axe and begins hewing trees C'est dans dix ans je m'en irai
L'hiver viendra, les gars, l'hiver viendra
La jument de Michao et son petit poulain
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