[Diamond18]

“Here we are, back at the beginning…back at the beginning where we began…” Vogonwë observed. “I think I may get dizzy…” He shook his head gracefully and uncorked his trusty bottle of hairball treatment as the others studied the map. He tilted his head back and anticipated the delicious taste of the minty hazelnut liquid. A few moments later, his head was still tilted back and he was still anticipating it. He began to feel a crick in his neck, and lowered the bottle with a puzzled frown. He peered into the mouth of the bottle and saw with horror that the bottle…was…not…full. In fact, it was so not full that it could be called empty.

He was stupefied, and for a moment did nothing but stand there and stare. Then, with a wild look in his grey-brown eyes, he accosted Kuruharan. “A bottle! A bottle! My country for a bottle!” he cried, forgetting for a moment that he didn’t have a country of his own to bargain with.

Kuruharan drew back in surprise and said, “What on Middle-earth is your problem?”

“It’s empty!” Vogonwë shrieked, waving the small glass bottle in front of the dwarf’s face. “Do you have another? I’ll pay you double what I gave for the first one!”

“Oh…but you see, that was my last bottle,” Kuruharan said regretfully, his mind racing for an alternative item to sell to the distraught elf. “I have some heartburn medicine that may interest you…”

Vogonwë was quivering, so that even his hair bow shook like a leaf. “No…more?” he stammered.

“Or some eye drops…” Kuruharan said, rifling through his bags. “And I think I saw some allergy medication in here somewhere…”

“No, no, no! I want more of this!” Vogonwë insisted. “You must have another…don’t keep it from me!”

“I assure you, I would not hesitate to sell you another if I had one,” Kuruharan said helplessly, spreading his arms apart and shrugging. “There’s no need to get angry.”

“Well if I’m angry it’s your fault! Mnraaa!” Vogonwë said, with an uncharacteristically contorted facial expression, which made him look somewhat like an angry Baskerwarg.

Everyone jumped in surprise, even the manly men who were usually immune to fear of any kind. Halfullion, Etceteron and Orogarn Two instinctively drew their swords, but as soon as the hideous mien had come, it departed again. Vogonwë started to whimper, and mutter something about being sorry.

Pimpi turned on the dwarf and demanded, “What on Middle-earth was in that bottle?”

“Well…I’m not sure…I won it in a card game with a troll,” Kuruharan said, shrugging.

Vogonwë turned and unhappily threw the empty bottle into a nearby drain hole, and in the minutes that followed it could be heard shattering with an echo that reverberated throughout the entire subway system.

“Imbecile of an Elf!” Pettygast exclaimed. “This isn’t a drunken bottle smashing riot! Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your fluidity!”

“Huh?” Vogonwë blinked at him in confusion.

“Don’t look at me, I was channeling someone else,” Pettygast shrugged.

“Do you feel better now, Master Brownbark?” Merisuwyniel asked thoughtfully, as was her nature.

“A little,” Vogonwë admitted. “The sound of shattering glass is a good stress reliever...this gives me an idea for a poem...”

“Unfortunately, every Orc in Moria will be aware of our presence, now,” Halfullion pointed out.

“All the more chance for valor and glorious deeds in battle,” Earnur said optimistically.

“That’s nice,” Merisuwyniel said, “because Tofu and I have decided on a route.”

“It certainly will be a rout,” Halfullion said, patting the hilt of his sword.

“I could eat some roots, myself,” voiced Pimpi.

“No, no, I mean, we have decided on a path to take through the system,” Merisuwyniel explained. She tore the map from the wall and said, “Follow me.”