It was the sound of my own stomach rumbling that awoke me. Rolling out of bed I didst scamper down to the Pantry, and ferreting amongst the large quantities of empty space within noted that my stomach was getting louder. This would not do!! Holding my aching belly to my self I recollected with thumping inners that 'twas a Sunday and the market would be packed away. I donned fleecy jacket and boots o' comfort and clutching my knobby cudgel made my way out into the chilly February morn in search of salvation. It was usual that I would meet up with the Pie Bretheren at the local Tavern in the town, aptly named "Ye Restoration", and it was this that I was in sore need. Approaching the aforementioned alehouse I didst notice that it was not yet open, and trudging back and forth betwixt the stout staves of the entrance I began to grow impatient. It was with relief that I didst soon spy Brother's Paul and Ben approaching from opposite directions, and my heart didst leap to think that the company wouldst sooth my rumbling stomach. On arriving my two Bretheren didst throw up their hands in irritation that the Ale house was still not stirring and brother Ben did go as far as to slap his thigh in disgust. It was then that an idea didst form itself amongst my befuddled senses.

"Let us not linger here brothers", I spake, "for the world is full of refreshments and we should not tarry around here"

"You speak the truth", cried Brother Paul, "The journey will take our minds off our rumblings", and with no more todo, we upped and left.

It is the way of the Pie Quest to let the lady of the pie guide your steps when walking forth, and we were led to the south east. Soon we were walking through the country and Brother Ben didst exclaim that "he'd wish he'd had the forethought to wear his stout boots". Topping the rise we came into a clearing in the trees. We didst see signs of a curious affair. The sight that lay before us was evidence that the local landowner had taken to throwing dinner plates up into the sky and then shooting them with his bow and arrows.

"He must be a good shot", murmered Brother Paul, "we should be cautious". Skirting around the edge of the clearing we climbed a short path and found ourselves on a stout track, which by the looks of it were made by a good number of horses. Choosing the right hand direction we didst wander down the path and it soon became apparent as to our mistake. A large hound burst from a local farmhouse and did we retreat quickly in the opposite direction.

The other direction was no better. Sensible to our flight the landowner had released a surprise.

"By the goddess of pie", cried Brother Ben, "it is the four horses of the Apocalypse, good job they are behind stout wooden fences"

Travelling onwards we soon found ourselves in the wilderness with no clue as to the direction of Pie. We prayed and walked onwards. Soon our we were shown signs that we did indeed walk the sacred path, when we passed through a small hamlet named "Ham". We soon came into a village of Lords by the sight of their dwellings. Massive acres of land didst stretch either side of the majestic houses. Passing out of the village we leaned on a gate and were greeted by the sight of a small herd of pygmy horses. Round the next bend we spied a Alehouse, and entering the door we didst find a mighty crackling fire and a selection of seating fit for a lord. Sitting down we didst order Ale and refreshment to curb our rumbling stomachs.

"Were we led false?", I cried, "for there is not Pie on this menu. It is plain that we must continue our quest". At that moment the heavens did open and the rain it did pour down. "but not yet", I added "for it is clear the lady of the pie wishes us to remain and savour this warm hearth". And so did we wait for around 2 hours savouring frothy pints of Ale, yet eventually we didst take our leave.

The road didst wind on and on, and yet no pie was in sight. The night was drawing in and we didst start to lose hope. Grudgingly we admitted default and didst turn around for our homes. We decided to take the quickest road home and soon were trudging down a busy horse track towards the lights of the town. About two miles from home we didst spot a tavern on the outskirts of Cheltenham that we had no knowledge of. A quick investigation brought forth the happy fact that pie was indeed forthcoming. With a smile on our faces we sat down to sample the steaming dishes brought forth by stout and harty landlord

"Let this be a lesson to us Brothers", I cried. "Pie may be found right under your nose"

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