Father Quigo watches as everyone digs in.  He doesn't touch anything; his meal would come later, and he has a feeling that he wouldn't get any hands that he put out there back.  So he turns to Abylus.  "That sounds like a good plan," he said.  "I'll have your letter waiting for you in the morning."<br/><br/>Then he notices Lili'fey hopping up on the table.  Her glowing tummy draws his attention, and he has to stare at it for a moment, wondering what exactly is in there.  Then he notices her belly clenching itself smaller.  "You can let your belly hang out," he tells the little fox.  "It's more comfortable that way."<br/><br/>Eventually, out come the chickens.  Eight of them.  They smell like lemons and rosemary, and have all been roasted to a crisp golden-brown.  The monks set them on the tables, two to a person and still hot from the ovens.  "First time in a while the cooks got to prepare this," Quigo says.  "First time we've had the chickens to spare.  I hope you enjoy."<br/><br/>(And that makes five hundred posts and twenty-five pages!  Thank you, everyone, for sticking around and making this what it is.  I've really been enjoying this, and I want to thank all of you for helping with that.)