[Hookbill the Goomba]

The dimly lit halls, ruined and lamentable to look upon, loomed over the two Dwarves as they paced with hastening steps. Khuz held up a hand and they both stopped, the old Dwarf lent heavily on his staff and breathed like a marathon runner who, after letting himself go a bit, tries his hand at the old sport. Smilog looked upwards at the ceiling; it was full of holes and covered in filth, yet still seemed strong enough to hold for a while at least.

Khuz began walking again, his trembling hands gripping his staff as if it were his only way of keeping alive. A shiver ran through the mountain, the walls began to shake, the ceiling let fall many tiles and chandeliers plummeted to the floor. Gripping his father's arm, Smilog dashed towards the nearest small room. Yet as he approached, a beam of wood fell across the entrance and splinters flew towards the duo.

The Dwarves threw themselves to the floor and covered their heads, awaiting only death. However, soon enough, the shaking stopped and all was calm once again. Covered in dust, Smilog raised his head and opened his eyes slowly. Two tall cloaked figures stood before him, one had a long wooden staff pointed towards Smilog's head. The other just stood there grinning.

"Good evening," said the one with the staff,

"Actually," said Khuz, standing up and dragging Smilog to his feet, "it's three in the morning." The Blue Istari cocked their heads simultaneously in a manner that made the dwarves take a step back.

"We are well aware of the time," Pallando grinned and lifted his staff to plant it on the ground as he would when walking. He nodded to his companion and they grinned grins that made professional grinners grin less. Alatar, the shorter of the two, drew a long sword from beneath his robe. "You are not needed, Dwarf," Pallando continued, "and so, we will..." he looked up and raised an eyebrow, "... kill you."

"Is that it?" said Khuz,

"Isn't that enough?" asked a rather startled Alatar

"Well, 'kill' has never been your style has it? Its always been, 'disemboweling' and 'inhumeing' and goodness knows what else. but 'Kill' oh no. Surely you can think of something better than 'kill'."

"Erm..." said Pallando, "give us a minuet..." the two wizards turned their backs on the dwarves and began a heated, yet whispered argument. Occasionally they glanced back at the dwarves. Eventually, Pallando turned back to face them and said, "We've decided to 'un-life' you." there was a pause before the wizards angrily turned back to their debate.

Smilog slowly lifted his axe from his belt, glancing between his father and the wizards, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Unfortunately, his hands slipped and his axe dropped to the floor with a clatter. The two wizards turned around dramatically, their robes flowing in the temporary gust they made for themselves.

"You'll be pleased to know," began Alatar, "that we are going to... Exterminate you!" Then they picked up their staffs and held them towards the Dwarves shouting, "Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

***

"Well, I think that door is a 'no'", said Tollin as he and his undead companion left Sauron's wardrobe and began walking through the many corridors of Mount Zoom. To their utter and lasting astonishment, there were still some Orcs gambling in the casinos, some were streaked with blood and sweat, but that was normal for this place, even when the Mountain wasn't moving.

While the matters of gambling Orcs covered their minds, the Mountain began to shake once again. With swift movements, Tollin made his way to the nearest window and looked out. "I say! What can you see Old Bean?" shouted The Barrow Wight, "is it good news?" Tollin scowled at him.

"Of course not!" shouted the minotaur, "The Mountain is erupting! Either that or it's going to set off again."

"Gosh," mumbled the Wight, trying to stand up straight. Yet it was in vain for, all of a sudden, the floor crumbled beneath their feet. With shouts, they fell through three levels until landing curiously on a soft feather mattress covered in burns marks and ashes. The shaking finished and the duo found themselves surrounded by dust and settling ceiling fragments.

Tollin coughed heavily in his throat, the Barrow Wight merely coughed a smoker's cough before pulling out his pipe and lighting it. "What are the chances of that, old chap?" he asked, "Question is, what Blighter has a bed in this Mountain?"

"Well," began Tollin, "judging by all burns and evidence of fire, either a pyromaniac or Roggie." The Barrow Wight nodded and looked at all of the cupboards that now became visible. He wandered over to one and pulled on the handle, but it would not open. Cursing he took out his sword and sliced through the wood, leaving a pile of filthy ties on the floor.

"Blast, no wine," he mopped.

"Come on," said Tollin, "wine is the least of our worries. We'd better find a way out of this Mountain and then see if we can get to somewhere civilised."

"Yes, I should like to get back to my Barrow." mused the Wight, failing to notice how Tollin hand vanished with a crash and how there was now a hole in the floor. "You see, there is something quintessentially jolly about a-" and he fell down the hole.

***

"Exterminate!" Cried Pallando as a large, hairy Minotaur fell on him, ploughing him into the rock flooring. Alatar leappad back and watched a corpse that seemed to glow green follow the Minotaur onto Pallando's head. Before anyone could say, "what's going on?" the two Dwarves were scampering off through the far end of the corridor.

Pallando threw Tollin and The Barrow Wight off him and looked around the room, "Where have they gone?" he demanded, Alatar shrugged, "oh, who cares, let's go to a grave yard, I need cheering up." The Wizards vanished in a flash.

"Gosh," said The Barrow Wight.