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Old 01-09-2004, 12:24 PM   #118
Mithadan
Spirit of Mist
 
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,310
Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.
Sting

Grrralph watched as first Orogarn Two and second, ironically, Merisu (One) popped out of the maw of the willow. He was pleased by the latter reappearance and non-plussed by the former. But as the Itship resumed its discussions regarding locating and, if need be, rescuing Vogonwë (Velour knows why) he became aware of... something. Something odd. An odd feeling. Somewhat like the sensation of sand being ground between teeth. In an attempt to capture the feeling, he sat cross-legged on the dirt, and began to hum.

"What's with Lurch?" asked Earnur, evidencing a substantial lack of concern. He was busy lifting Orogarn from the ground and brushing him off (while simultaneously rifling through the pockets of the dazed Grundorian).

"Don't call him Lurch," replied Merisu. "It makes him angry."

"You wouldn't like him when he's angry," chimed in Kuruharan helpfully as he came over to assist Earnur in ripping off... brushing off Orogarn. Being thus occupied, he ignored Earnur's muttered retort about "not liking him anyway."

Then Grrralph rose and intoned in a deep and foreboding voice, "There is a disturbance in the Force..."

Earnur, having found nothing of consequence (or value) in Orogarn's pockets, turned and snapped at Grrralph. "What are you babbling about? Have you gotten into the Dwarf's cough medicine?" Kuruharan promptly trotted off to check his inventory.

The wraith turned to face the members of the Unisexship. "I have a bad feeling about this," he moaned mournfully.

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

Far away, indeed an ocean and two rainbows away, strange events were taking place. Two of the lesser gods, the Meowrr, were conversing before a stout gate, ironwood reinforced with structural steel, which stood closed in a very tall wall of basalt. Behind them waited a sizeable and well-armed contingent of Meowrr, Velour and Elves.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Loci, the Bearer of the Keys. He fumbled with a keyring nervously and eyed the great door.

"Here are Mantoes' orders," replied the other as he handed over a sheaf of papers. Loci reviewed them quickly. As he read, his eyes rose high on his sloping forehead. "All of them?" asked Loci. "Very well."

He approached the gate and inserted a key into the lock. It turned with a click. The gates swung open silently and from behind the walls emerged a foul, no fetid, no... what's worse than 'fetid'? A really bad smell flowed through the gate. Loci, his hand over his nose, entered through the gate. "All right!" he shouted. "Everyone out! Form three lines! Organization please! Step lively now! Come on!"

From behind the walls came an unearthly chant. "O-WE-O. WE-O...O. O-WE-O. WE-O...O." Then hundreds, nay thousands of dark forms began shambling through the gates. The host of Meowrr, Velour and Elves split into two and flanked the procession on either side as it made its way down to the docks where dozens of boats waited for them.

Hours later, the procession ended and Loci peeked inside the gate. "Is that all of them?" asked Mantoes' assistant. "No," replied Loci. "A lot of them are in no shape to move." He held up a severed leg by way of example.

"Tsk, tsk," clucked the other officiously. "Well, they're not our problem now..." He wrinkled his nose slightly as a contingent of Wood Nymphs, Brownies and Gremlins descended with brooms and trashcans and began sweeping up the "remains" that had fallen off the procession. It took a lot of Wood Nymphs, Brownies and Gremlins...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:36 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Mithadan ]
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