[Mithadan]

"Merisu!" cried Gravlox even as he slumped to the ground. Orogarn and Earnur raced to her side and propped her up between them. Pimpi fell to her knees, covering her mouth with a hand. Vogonwë stood still for a moment in surprise, then tried to hide the one remaining arrow which he held behind his back.

Kuruharan, sensing an opportunity for profit, raced to his pack and began rummaging through its contents. After a few minutes, he stood, holding a small brown bottle in his hand. He raced over to Gravlox and Merisu, then stopped, looking from one to the other. Lord Etceteron looked up at the Dwarf. "Well?" he demanded. "What do you have?"

Kuruharan looked down at the bottle. "Authentic Healing Potion of the Gods," he answered. "Made from 100% Kingsboil, guaranteed to heal any wound, just 6 gold pieces."

Orogarn waved impatiently at Kuruharan. "Get on with it then," he cried.

"Uh," replied the Dwarf. "I only have enough for one person."

"What!" shouted Etceteron. "Can't you stretch it out? Cut it with some booze or something?" Kuruharan shook his head sadly.

"Give it to him," cried the valient Merisu. "Give it to Gravlox! I'll be fine." At that moment, Orogarn yanked the arrow from her chest and was greeted by an inopportunely timed fountain of blood which spurted six feet into the air.

Gravlox sat, propped up against a pack. He appeared to be resting, but he was pierced with many red feathered arrows. "I have done many ill deeds in my life," he said. "I am sorry. I have paid. I pant for life: some good I mean to do,
Despite of mine own nature. Give the potion to Merisu." He tossed Kuruharan a bag of coins.

"Sold!" cried the Dwarf. He knelt beside Merisu and poured the potion onto her wound, rubbing it on her chest with barely concealed relish. He rose and went back to his pack to get some mustard as well, but when he returned, to his disappointment, Merisu was fully healed.

The fair maiden scrambled over to Gravlox and cradled him in her arms. "Gravlox, we will get help!" she cried with a sob. "Hold on. Your wounds aren't so bad."

He smiled. "No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for
me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I
am peppered, I warrant, for this world.
'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a
cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a
rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us?" He glared at Vogonwë, who looked over to Pimpi but did not answer.

Gravlox took a laboured breath and closed his eyes. "O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest,
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love!"

Merisu frowned down at him. "I thought you said that you don't write poetry," she said.

He opened his eyes. "I don't. But I am well read." He looked down at the blood pouring from his wounds. "Well read...blood...read, get it?"

Merisu laughed weakly. "Save your strength, dearest," she begged.

He coughed again. "Kiss me, then let me look my last into your eyes." Behind them, Etceteron tapped his foot impatiently and checked his watch. Almost dinnertime.

With a sob, she planted a kiss on his lips, then lifted herself slowly to gaze deeply into the eyes of the Uruk. And so passed away Gravlox. Gravlox the Valient. Gravlox the Almost Redeemed. Gravlox the Foul who was Fair. Gravlox All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter. [A marginal note in the text here reads, "Enough already. Too much even for an Ent."]

--------------------------

An attendant sat dozing behind a door in a vast hall wrought of black marble. A loud knock on the door roused him. "Funny," he said. "We're not expecting anyone right now." He called a second attendant from the nearby cloak room then proceeded to the door. Opening a small hatch in the door, he looked out to see a dark figure with greenish skin and fangs. The attendant shuddered, then said loudly, "Good morning! We're not accepting any Orcs here, thank you. Good morning."

With that, he shut the peephole. The knock came again, louder and more insistant. The attendant sighed and opened the peephole again. "Lemme in, please," said the Orc. The attendant glared at the annoying figure outside the door. "Listen, idiot," he growled. "We don't take Orcs. So buzz off!"

"I ain't going!" cried the Orc even as the peephole slammed in his face. The attendant turned away, but the knocking resumed, even louder this time. He spun back to the door and swung the peephole open again. "What are you? Deaf?" he shouted. "We don't take no damn, dirty, stinkin, URK..." A clawed hand had shot through the hatch and grabbed the attendant tightly by the throat.

"I SAID, LEMME IN!.....PLEASE!"

The second attendant backed away and turned to run for help. "I'll get Mantoes," he cried...