[Hookbill the Goomba]

Smilog shivered and cowered below a tombstone. He looked at his blooded hands, shaking uncontrollably. He fought the tears that were welling in his eyes but he could not stop it. A thin hand gripped his shoulder and he yelped.

"Come along, old bean," said a kindly voice, "what's the matter with you?" it was The Barrow Wight and his sword was now deep red. Smilog avoided the Dead man's eyes and picked up his axe again.

"I've never killed anything before," he said slowly, "I felt so horrid." At that moment a great snarling werewolf leaped at them and Smilog immediately swung his axe wildly, not seeming to care that he was inches away from decapitating The Barrow Wight. The beast fell to the ground and made no further sound. Smilog fell to his knees, "What am I doing?" he cried.

"Courage," said The Wight, "you must have courage. There is nothing for it." he gripped the Dwarf by the arm and lifted him up. The whole graveyard was filled with the enemy and all seemed to be going wrong. The screams of the Mordorians as they were slaughtered filled Smilog's ears and he looked towards the south where he saw his father doing battle with a Wereduck. At last his nerves gave way to a feeling of duty. He leaped into the battle and did great deeds... so he said.

Tollin, with a fit of rage upon him, swung his morning scar left and right. He had come to the very end of the Were army. Behind him only the blackness of Mordor, before him the sea of foes. Sweeping were creatures aside like dead leaves on the forest floor. Even the very largest could not stand before him, his eyes were like fire and his face was terrible to behold. The Barrow Wight saw him as he decapitated a Werewolf. Thinking that next to Tollin would probably be the best bet for safest, he made his way towards the Minotaur, slashing as he went.

Pallando's face was set like stone. He could see that all was going well. If they could defeat this minotaur resistance before the dwarves arrived, then his victory would be assured. But he looked to where Tollin was, and saw that he would to great damage to his plans if not dealt with. None could get close to him. With a wide grin, Pallando poked Alatar and then pointed at the Minotaur. The Brown Wizard nodded and took out his bow.

With a suddenness that made some Were creatures step back, Tollin stopped his slaughter. The Barrow Wight rushed over to see what was happening, but two Mordorians stopped him. A long blue arrow stuck out from Tollin's chest. It burned him and was buried deep. He raised his Morning Star and swooped it across the line of foes that now approached, but another arrow soon hit him. Falling to his knees, Tollin cried aloud. The Were Creatures stepped back and whimpered slightly as he took up his weapon and killed three more.

A third and a fourth arrow soon followed. Tollin fell to the ground at the last and did no more. Satisfied, Allatar gave no more thought to him and turned his attentions to the rest of the battle. The Barrow Wight, on the other hand, dashed to Tollin's side and saw that he yet lived.

"Come on, old chap," he sniffed, "stiff upper lip, wot-wot?" Tollin smiled vaguely and looked up at the sky.

"Alas," he said, "this is my end, I fear."

"Don't say that," mumbled The Barrow Wight, "Let me get rid of those arrows and perhaps I'll find that Elempi chap."

"It's too late," Tollin sighed, "the arrows are poisoned anyway. My mind is going, I can feel it. Farewell, you old Wight. Do not vanish in the sunlight. Be sure to haunt your old barrow for many years. As for me, I go to a long rest. At the least, I have not spent my last moments in that blasted labyrinttthhhh. If only that Dwarf were here, I could thank him properly. Farewell, my friend, farewell"

Tollin smiled and breathed his last.