Fegall's Fingers : The Smoking Pipe
Fegall's Fingers: The Smoking Pipe
Translation into the Proper Common by ganoomkin Rudo of the Essis.
One of the many places where Fegall gathered followers was the village of Waynbleck. Rumors abounded of a hermit who had spent his life trying to make the perfect smoking pipe. Fegall visited this hermit's cave, but in this cave found no pipes at all!
The hermit was very old, as hermits tend to be, and believed that his pipes were of the highest quality to be found on all of Avlis. He also believed in never handling a pipe he made after selling it. for to improve his craft would mean that he should forget about previous work. After all, if one considers an older, less worthy design while making a new one, the new design will contain the flaws of the old one!
Fegall lifted a pipe that he had purchased from a villager and traced the skein of the wood with his fingers. He looked upon the hermit and asked him how he had come to make these amazing pipes, and the hermit replied, "I've spent years perfecting my trade! Why should I let any young whippersnapper come and take my knowledge for his own use?!"
Fegall then left the hermit's cave and wandered back to the village. He stayed there for a few months, visiting the hermit every now and then to request, again, that the hermit share his knowledge. The hermit refused every time.
One day, though, the hermit was in a morose mood. He had spent two weeks on a hickory pipe that just didn't have the gleaming texture he wanted! The handle didn't fit naturally between one's fingers and the bole was just too thin. This had never happened to the hermit, and he decided to wander around the market square to get his mind off his work.
He made his way through the market stalls and the merchant shops, not really looking at anything but simply dangling the offending pipe between his fingers. The hermit stopped then and inclined his head. He couldn't hear the ringing of the hammer on the anvil at the smithy, nor the sawing at the local forester... and looked around a bit more.
There was almost no one in sight! The village stood empty, with nary a person to contribute to the business of the day. The hermit started shuffling towards the hall of Elders but stopped as he heard a voice from the direction of the main gates.
It was when he arrived at the main gates of the village that he saw something strange. Fegall was sitting on the grass outside the village, surrounded by almost all of the villagers! The hermit hurried to join the crowd, and upon arriving, Fegall looked up at him and smiled.
"Ah, sir pipemaker! The people have something they wish to help you with." The people turned around - and in each hand was one of the pipes the pipe maker had made throughout his long life in the cave. Each of them approached him and put down their pipe on the ground in front of the hermit. They then stood away as the hermit gazed lovingly to the pile of pipes laid out before him.
Fegall walked over to the hermit and put his hand on the hermit's shoulder, "Now that the people share their pipes with you, can you not compare them and find the best design for the one you're holding?" The hermit blinked down at the pipes, and then back at Fegall. "My...I guess what you say makes sense! I never should have thought to improve without having something to improve on!"
Fegall left the village that evening with the same broken pipe the hermit had made, and continued on his journey through the realms.