[Durelin]

The city was always full of orcs, and in his brief scan of his surroundings, Valde of course found nothing to redeem the sordid reputation of the place. There were some very colorful posters with pictures on them that were…interesting, even to him, but he was skilled at finding something wrong with them. They ruined the atmosphere. No, they only added to its horridness. They were too loud, just like everything else. Then, something so terrifying and so revolting hit him that he immediately spun around on his heel and began looking for a way to leave. What if this was the kind of place that he would escape from Mordor to?

But there was Anakron, with his staff, seemingly stroking the ghastly Siamese cat on the top of it, looking at them all pointedly. He seemed amused; Valde scowled. “Well, don't just stand there, gawking and procrastinating, you fools!” he exclaimed, shooing them, “Get on with it! Your future depends on it!”

“I do not have a future,” he muttered in a practical moan, turning back around and beginning to trudge slowly down the side of the street. “The ‘Grand Anakronist’ thinks he knows everything. Then why is he in Mordor?” He bumped into an orc who growled something about the decency and respect. But Valde was in a city, and he knew cities were full of rude people. He would just be another one to add to the mix, and the only one who had a right to be rude. No one had as much reason to dislike people so greatly. Life had treated him very poorly, and people were only worse. So with a very miserable sigh, he all but went out of his way to more than rub shoulders with everyone who walked by him.

Another orc, this one in a car, rode up on the curb and would have hit Valde had he not quickly put down his cell phone and used both hands on the wheel, and possibly his foot. “Don’t walk on the sidewalk!” he shouted in a screechy voice that resembled a knife on slate. Valde cringed, but managed to shout, “Well, don’t drive on the street!”

He was just recovering from his trauma at almost being hit when another vehicle came dangerously close to the curb, though this one stopped beside him. He froze, examining it, which he soon realized was a deadly move. A group of Trolls exploded from the large, obnoxiously yellow van, and hurried over to him. Pretentious Blimcasting Corruption? he barely had time to wonder before they crowded around him and one of the Trolls began speaking. He only half listened, spending more time perfecting a downtrodden but defiant appearance in the face of a looming crowd. But after only a moment he heard something about a ‘lead role,’ and perked up his ears. And after the words ‘failed attempt to escape from Mordor,’ his mouth was hanging open.

“I will nev-” he began with indignation, but he was cut off by the Troll, and left to smolder in anger, considering how such an obviously educated being could be so rude. “We are vested with full right and legality to apprehend thy great talent and produce this wonderful play.” Valde looked smug for a moment, liking the sound of ‘they great talent.’ He even almost forgot that the Troll had ‘tutted’ him. But the sight of the official looking document made him scowl again. “Thou wilt help us in the writing. Stage hands, apprehend our lead man!”

He was smacked in the face by pure shock as the Trolls began bodily placing him on a litter, and though it was quite comfortable, and he was getting a lead role, Valde made a show of struggling. “No! O untimely official looking document, I never once did know thy bitter taste till now!”

“He is good, isn’t he?” the Troll carrying the back of the litter said to the one in front.

“Why thank you,” Valde said before he could think. The next thing he knew, he was tossed with the litter into the back of the van, and with a squeal of tires, the van drove off even before the last Troll could get into it. “It seems we will have to recast Trollonius after all,” one of the litter bearers said as he closed the back doors of the van, blocking the flailing, left behind Troll from Valde’s view. How tragic… He snickered. But such tragedy shall not befall me! I will make it out of Mordor, and I would swear it on my great grandfather’s skull! Realizing what a good scene could be made if they used a skull, he began sharing his ideas with the Trolls. If only he knew who his great grandfather was.