The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - WW XXXX

Nogrod · 12-03-2007, 03:00 PM

The werewolves met at the mallorn yet again but this time they were in no hurry. They sat down under the tree and just waited in silence that someone would open his mouth.

Finally the Drop voiced out what all the three had been thinking: “That was too bad... what they did to the Breath I mean”

“Yeah... really bad... I kinda miss her now already”, the Flame continued with a low voice. “Too bad indeed... what they did.”

“I bet they’ll turn it around and consider it a fair and courageous deed though”, the Shard said ripping the bark of the mallorn with the claws of his left paw absentmindedly.

“But how can you twist ethics in a way that makes murder a good thing?” the Flame bursted not quite agreeing what his mate had just said.

“You know the hobbit logic... that’s capable of anything”, the Drop hissed trying to uplift the mood.

But the Flame was not going to give up the question. “Ha! But we have dragged them down from the moral highground anyway, hobbit logic or not! Thou shalt not kill is the most founding moral commandment there is and they have broken against it”

“But that’s an arguable point my friend”, the Shard turned to face the Flame. “Couldn’t they just resort to some utilitarian principles of the beneficial consequences for the community as a whole?”

“Or they might bring forwards a kind of manichean interpretation of deontological ethics where only killing the goodies is morally wrong but killing the baddies is virtuous”, added the Drop.

“Now what kind of ethics is that? You can’t be serious.” The Flame was inflamed now. “Killing one of “us” is bad, killing one of “them” is good... That’s tribal thinking and not universal principles morality by definition must be based on. Every “we” or “us” can make justification for “our” cause with that localised immorality!”

“You should try to argue that to the hobbits...” the Shard snapped back seemingly unhappy about the direction the Flame was leading the discussion.

“I think the Flame has a point though. Either morals are universal or then it’s just a question of different points of view relative to each other and the truth ceases to exist any more. And in the latter case the morals will be implemented on a community only by rhetorics, politics, scaremongering or wish-gratification... or with brutal force”, the Drop put in looking at both of his mates and waiting for at least slight applauds.

“Think what you wish you two but the Breath’s death calls for revenge”, the Shard said decidedly.

“Ah, you’re right Shard”, smile the Drop: “Two wrongs do not make a right, so thence...”

Before the Flame could quite come to laugh at the pun they all froze. There was a noise like someone was coming towards the mallorn. It was a faint sound but to the sharpened ears of the werewolves it was loud as a bang of a gong. Someone was indeed coming. The wolves glanced quickly at each other and in a moment they had all vanished from the perimeter of the mallornwithout letting a sound or leaving a trace.

~*~

A lonely hobbit came to the tree and sat down. He took his pipe from his pocket and started filling it. He had been too stressed to sleep and had decided to come out as the darkness and quietness inside the house had started to feel too depressing. Outside he thought – in the open – he could see any danger in time if there was one. It was the walls and the short distances inside the hobbithole that had given him the creeps.

Had he only known...

Something hit him hard smashing his kneebones into a mash while a pair of claws ripped half of his cheeks off and covered his mouth – or what was left of it. Four gleaming eyes came down to stare at him intensively while he felt that his mouth was being stucked full of something. He tried to yell but there was no sound. The hobbit sensed a pair of clawed paws taking a tight grip of his arms and then he felt the sudden yank. Inspite the pain he realised his arms were broken.

Then the third one rushed to the place and everything went black. He was stuffed to a sack and the sack was tied. He tried to struggle to get himself free but soon realised he had nothing to make the struggle with. A rope was being tied around his neck from outside and after the knot was done the hobbit was hoisted up from the ground.

The rope tightened suddenly and the hobbit realised no one was supporting his weight any more. He was swinging from something by his neck. Legate Sackville-Baggins had been in hard places in his life – especially when his wife had asked him to explain this or that evening gone late - but now he realised he was a goner. Most definitively a goner. It was hard to breathe and it became harder all the time.

“Swing low, sweet chariot...” the Drop hummed in a quiet voice and gave him a soft push.

“coming for to carry me ho-ome...” continued the Flame as he turned to leave.

The silent but steady steps of the werewolves got farther away while they hummed the song.

“Are we becoming a bit too soft? What do you think? Lullabies and all...” the Shard asked his fellows. Those were the last words Legate ever heard.

It was quiet except for the sound of the rope chafing against the branch a bit more slower with every swing. A tear poured from Legate’s eye but he didn’t try to yell or shout any more. Instead he hummed the song quietly in his head.

If you get there before I do,
Comin' for to carry me home,
Tell all my friends I'm comin' too,
Comin' for to carry me home...

He shivered with the irony of the song... But still there was something that comforted him in it.

In the end he died with a faint smile in his face.

~*~

The dead:
Nogrod (mod) - Noggie Boffin - beheaded and played soccer with on Night1
Nerwen (ordo) - Nerwen Hornblower - jumped to the river not to force anyone to kill another hobbit on Day1
Valier (ordo) - Vallen FurryFoot - skinned, grilled and served as a breakfast on Night2
Rikae (ordo) – Rikae Took - left the Hobbitton to find aid from somewhere in the middle of Day2
A Little Green (the Breath) - Lilla Greenhand - beaten to death by the hobbits on Day2
Legate of Amon Lanc (ordo) - Legate Sackville-Baggins - sacked, bagged & hanged on Night3

The living:
Thinlómien - Lommy Baggins
Aganzir - Agan Sackville-Baggins
Meneltarmacil - Lupo Furryface
Volo - Justy Proudfoot
Macalaure - Mac Sandyman
The Might - Might of Greenholm
Mormegil - Mormegil Harrybelly
Feanor of the Peredhil - Belladonna Briarpatch
Brinniel - Brinn Burrows
Satansaloser2005 - Sally Shortbrush
Farael – Farael Twofoot
Kath – Kath Woodyend
Shastanis Althreduin – Shasta of the River
Kuruharan -Kuru Shrewthwacker

Day3 begins!

12-03-2007, 03:00 PM	#265
Nogrod Flame of the Ainulindalë Join Date: Jan 2006 Location: Wearing rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves Posts: 9,308	Night3 The werewolves met at the mallorn yet again but this time they were in no hurry. They sat down under the tree and just waited in silence that someone would open his mouth. Finally the Drop voiced out what all the three had been thinking: “That was too bad... what they did to the Breath I mean” “Yeah... really bad... I kinda miss her now already”, the Flame continued with a low voice. “Too bad indeed... what they did.” “I bet they’ll turn it around and consider it a fair and courageous deed though”, the Shard said ripping the bark of the mallorn with the claws of his left paw absentmindedly. “But how can you twist ethics in a way that makes murder a good thing?” the Flame bursted not quite agreeing what his mate had just said. “You know the hobbit logic... that’s capable of anything”, the Drop hissed trying to uplift the mood. But the Flame was not going to give up the question. “Ha! But we have dragged them down from the moral highground anyway, hobbit logic or not! Thou shalt not kill is the most founding moral commandment there is and they have broken against it” “But that’s an arguable point my friend”, the Shard turned to face the Flame. “Couldn’t they just resort to some utilitarian principles of the beneficial consequences for the community as a whole?” “Or they might bring forwards a kind of manichean interpretation of deontological ethics where only killing the goodies is morally wrong but killing the baddies is virtuous”, added the Drop. “Now what kind of ethics is that? You can’t be serious.” The Flame was inflamed now. “Killing one of “us” is bad, killing one of “them” is good... That’s tribal thinking and not universal principles morality by definition must be based on. Every “we” or “us” can make justification for “our” cause with that localised immorality!” “You should try to argue that to the hobbits...” the Shard snapped back seemingly unhappy about the direction the Flame was leading the discussion. “I think the Flame has a point though. Either morals are universal or then it’s just a question of different points of view relative to each other and the truth ceases to exist any more. And in the latter case the morals will be implemented on a community only by rhetorics, politics, scaremongering or wish-gratification... or with brutal force”, the Drop put in looking at both of his mates and waiting for at least slight applauds. “Think what you wish you two but the Breath’s death calls for revenge”, the Shard said decidedly. “Ah, you’re right Shard”, smile the Drop: “Two wrongs do not make a right, so thence...” Before the Flame could quite come to laugh at the pun they all froze. There was a noise like someone was coming towards the mallorn. It was a faint sound but to the sharpened ears of the werewolves it was loud as a bang of a gong. Someone was indeed coming. The wolves glanced quickly at each other and in a moment they had all vanished from the perimeter of the mallornwithout letting a sound or leaving a trace. ~~ A lonely hobbit came to the tree and sat down. He took his pipe from his pocket and started filling it. He had been too stressed to sleep and had decided to come out as the darkness and quietness inside the house had started to feel too depressing. Outside he thought – in the open – he could see any danger in time if there was one. It was the walls and the short distances inside the hobbithole that had given him the creeps. Had he only known... Something hit him hard smashing his kneebones into a mash while a pair of claws ripped half of his cheeks off and covered his mouth – or what was left of it. Four gleaming eyes came down to stare at him intensively while he felt that his mouth was being stucked full of something. He tried to yell but there was no sound. The hobbit sensed a pair of clawed paws taking a tight grip of his arms and then he felt the sudden yank. Inspite the pain he realised his arms were broken. Then the third one rushed to the place and everything went black. He was stuffed to a sack and the sack was tied. He tried to struggle to get himself free but soon realised he had nothing to make the struggle with. A rope was being tied around his neck from outside and after the knot was done the hobbit was hoisted up from the ground. The rope tightened suddenly and the hobbit realised no one was supporting his weight any more. He was swinging from something by his neck. Legate* Sackville-Baggins had been in hard places in his life – especially when his wife had asked him to explain this or that evening gone late - but now he realised he was a goner. Most definitively a goner. It was hard to breathe and it became harder all the time. “Swing low, sweet chariot...” the Drop hummed in a quiet voice and gave him a soft push. “coming for to carry me ho-ome...” continued the Flame as he turned to leave. The silent but steady steps of the werewolves got farther away while they hummed the song. “Are we becoming a bit too soft? What do you think? Lullabies and all...” the Shard asked his fellows. Those were the last words Legate ever heard. It was quiet except for the sound of the rope chafing against the branch a bit more slower with every swing. A tear poured from Legate’s eye but he didn’t try to yell or shout any more. Instead he hummed the song quietly in his head. If you get there before I do, Comin' for to carry me home, Tell all my friends I'm comin' too, Comin' for to carry me home... He shivered with the irony of the song... But still there was something that comforted him in it. In the end he died with a faint smile in his face. ~~ The dead: Nogrod* (mod) - Noggie Boffin - beheaded and played soccer with on Night1 Nerwen (ordo) - Nerwen Hornblower - jumped to the river not to force anyone to kill another hobbit on Day1 Valier (ordo) - Vallen FurryFoot - skinned, grilled and served as a breakfast on Night2 Rikae (ordo) – Rikae Took - left the Hobbitton to find aid from somewhere in the middle of Day2 A Little Green (the Breath) - Lilla Greenhand - beaten to death by the hobbits on Day2 Legate of Amon Lanc (ordo) - Legate Sackville-Baggins - sacked, bagged & hanged on Night3 The living: Thinlómien - Lommy Baggins Aganzir - Agan Sackville-Baggins Meneltarmacil - Lupo Furryface Volo - Justy Proudfoot Macalaure - Mac Sandyman The Might - Might of Greenholm Mormegil - Mormegil Harrybelly Feanor of the Peredhil - Belladonna Briarpatch Brinniel - Brinn Burrows Satansaloser2005 - Sally Shortbrush Farael – Farael Twofoot Kath – Kath Woodyend Shastanis Althreduin – Shasta of the River Kuruharan -Kuru Shrewthwacker Day3 begins! __________________ Upon the hearth the fire is red Beneath the roof there is a bed; But not yet weary are our feet... Last edited by Nogrod; 12-03-2007 at 04:24 PM.