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Old 08-25-2005, 09:37 AM   #278
Mithadan
Spirit of Mist
 
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,312
Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.
High above the battlefield, the Velour had gathered in their chambers to hide... errr, to observe to progress of the war raging far below. Smoke obscured the sunlight which normally streamed through the windows and the crash and clamour of battle echoed in the great hall. The great ones slumped in their chairs and their normally bright and happy faces grew long as the forces of the Red Nostril swarmed over the plains of Valleyum. As most of the Velour wallowed in their misery, Haulië paced back and forth and Mantoes peeked out the window at the hordes below.

"High tide at the north beach," commented Tulk Hogan. "Should be some gnarly waves coming in. Anyone want to catch some waves?" But his companions sat in silence.

A groan came from Mantoes. "Melvin has loosed the dark forces from the void by reversing the neutron flow. There are dragons and vampires and werewolves!"

"Oh my!" cried Prada.

"Whatever," moaned Manuël Sàntana.

Haulië froze in mid-pace. "Whatever?" he cried. "WHATEVER?!?!?"

Manuël shook his head sadly. "War's over, man. Melvin dropped the big one."

"Over? Did you say 'over'?" shouted Haulië. "Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Dwarves bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!"

"The 'Dwarves'? And what's 'Pearl Harbor'" whispered Mantoes to Prada.

"Forget it, he's rolling," she replied.

"And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... " Haulië paused to collect his thoughts and recall his cliches. Then he brightened noticably. "The tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go!" With a blood-curdling shout, he seized his hammer and raced to the stairs. He had gone halfway down the mountain before he realized he was alone. Cursing under his breath, he turned and trudged back up the stairs. When he entered the hall, the Velour were exactly where he had left them; slumped in their chairs with sour expressions on their faces.

"What the heck happened to the Velour I used to know?" cried Haulië. "Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh? 'Ooh, we're afraid to go with you Haulië, we might get in trouble.' Well just kiss my forge from now on! Not me! I'm not gonna take this. Môgul, he's a dead man! Greedhog, dead! Sauerkraut..."

"Dead!" yelled Mantoes. The remainder of the Velour turned in surprise and Haulië stopped his rant and wiped away the foam from his mouth. "Haulië's right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these guys. Now we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part."

"And we're just the guys to do it," cried Haulië.

"Let's do it!" shouted Tulk Hogan.

"LET'S DO IT!" screamed Haulië. He turned and, once again, raced to the stairs. This time, the rest of the Velour followed...
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