[Anguirel]

The bizarre earthquake in the castle seemed to have completely ceased by now. Tom advanced to the entrance to the labryrinth whither Roggie and Skittles had repaired. Even after the Balrog-King had advanced far down it long ago, it exuded a certain amount of sulphurous heat. Besides, it was likely to be a contorted route, and Dracomir-though the smudges on the Mordorers' Map gave him a vague idea-couldn't be quite sure where Roggie had gone.

Besides, he wasn't exactly enamoured of the idea of being reunited with the King of Mordor without significant back-up.

He already had enough information to make a certain impression...if directed to the right ears. Roggie had shown absolute proof, of the must robust kind, of his reluctance to negotiate. He was on the contrary marching off with Skittles. Skittles, Lady of Flick-Knives. Hardly a sign of latent pacifism. Dracomir couldn't precisely know their purposes, but he assumed three of them were war, destruction, and barbecuing.

Just wait till those timorous Mordorian "ambasador" wage-slaves of Alli heard that. Yes, this news would have quite an effect.

Just then, the Lord Malfoidacil's reflections were interrupted by a decided feeling that someone without a trace of magical power was attempting to communicate with him. He shook his head. Irresponsible mudbloods, messing up the Legilimency Telecom Network with their untrained burblings. He had better things to worry about. He Apparated back to the Negotiation Hall.

Lola and Maika having apparently gone on ahead, only Igör remained; he seemed to be lagging due to the propensity of his eyes to go wandering off on missions of their own. Due to something more than accident, Tom increasingly suspected. The Shelleyesque aberration had previously shown his practicality, and was probably a loyal and accurate informer for his mistress Alli.

"I just thought you might like to know," the Lord Malfoidacil started coldly in Sindarin, "that King Roggie of Morgoth and Miss Nancy MacFayden are currently involved in planning hostile action against my lord King Mardil's domain."

"Or, in plain English, how are we supposed to get out of this one?"

Igör replied, very loudly, "If you'll excuse me, could you ask someone else? The two halves of my brain are at war with each other, you see..."

Maybe not so efficient then. Tom sighed, but Lola...ah, as irritatingly delectable as ever...and Maika had come back, apparently lost and rather in the Doldrums; or at least, Maika seemed to be. Lola was the model of insouciance.

"What did you say?" Maika gasped, though she had patently already heard, hence the shock.

"I said what I said," Dracomir replied simply. "Roggie and Skittles are building an army...worthy of Morrrrdorrrr. So it begins. There will be no dawn for Men. Or Women, I imagine."