Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 05-29-2006, 03:55 AM   #46
Hookbill the Goomba
Alive without breath
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Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla
Posts: 6,153
Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.
Smilog walked alongside his new associate, although he still eyed him with some suspicion and disliking. He smiled too much for a man in Mordor, and still too much for a man in general. The Dwarf stayed quiet though, the prospect of a never-ending mountain of gold was something he couldn't just let pass by.

They soon found the stairs and climbed them. They were dark and wet, covered in slime and smelling of something that was... well... urgh! At every opportunity, Smilog leant out of a window to draw breath; the stench nearly knocked him down with his nose held. Andvarri seemed to bare it quite well, although his smile had now disappeared and a stern look had appeared.

"Not long to go now," said the man, "I do wish they would clean these stairs every now and again."

"They do," came a voice from below, they looked and saw a small Orc with an apron and a mop, he continued, "I'm doing the annual cleaning of the stairs. I forgot about it last year, but hay, I'm a busy Orc! Now, be off with you!"

Hurriedly, they dashed up to the top of the stairs, taking care not to slip on the slime, which is what the Orc appeared to be 'cleaning' with. Once out of the stairwell, the two of them went to a large door that had Roggie's name written in many languages on the front.

"I'd better knock," said Smilog, "I am one of his advisers, anyway. The lazy good for nothing pile of Orc vomit!" A small pile of Orc vomit that was near by was quite upset by this statement and squelched off to cry in a corner.

"I'd better be out of sight," said Andvarri, "Roggie isn't used to new faces."

"Oh yeah? He's had at least three face lifts!"

"You know what I mean. Anyway. This could be difficult." Andvarri slipped behind a pillar as Smilog knocked on the door.

"No thank-you!" came the cry from within, "We don't want anymore visitors, well wishers or distant relations!"

"And what about very angry Dwarves?" retorted Smilog with his hands on his hips and his eyes like green fire. There was a silent pause, then the sound of some moving behind the door, and finally it opened. A huge red boxing glove flew out and hit Smilog square on the chin and he fell back into the opposite wall.

"Ow!" he said as the door closed, "Have you got any bright ideas?" he asked Andvarri.
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