[Celuien]

Boom, bang, crash. A raucous chorus of cheers. Panakeia was awakened from a restful sleep by a noisy mob outside her window. "Whath's going on?" she mumbled sleepily. Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she stumbled towards the window and, ladder style, climbed up Freud's couch to peer outside. No objection to the light came from the room's other occupant - she was nowhere to be found.

Outside, Panakeia quickly spotted the source of her disturbance. An open area adjacent to the dormitory building had been transformed into some sort of sports field. On one side there was a white net. The other side had a tall yellow post that terminated in two parallel rods. As if the teams couldn't agree on what game they were playing, one kicked a round, black and white ball while the other threw a brown-red ovoid object through the air. One ball or the other kept hitting the side of the dorm with a clunk. Panakeia continued to mutter grumpily as she went outdoors to investigate further.

At the field, she pushed her way through the assembled crowd to come up next to a reality-show kamura-orc who was narrating the events. "Welcome back to Celebrity Sports Coach II: Battle of the Titans. The football...erm...soccer...erm...football game between the University of Mordor, coached by that great star of the sports world, David Beckham with his famous lucky shoes, and the University of Lost Angles, coached by our other celebrity sports luminary, Donovan McNabb, wearing his favorite jersey, is well under way. The score is currently tied at 0-0, we think, since differences in British and American dialects have led to some confusion about which game is being played today. Oh, look!" The round ball flew over the yellow posts. "Score for U of M! I think. We'll have to let the ref decide how many points that was worth." The teams, coaches and referees huddled together on the field to debate the score.

Panakeia, feeling like her old self for the moment, saw her chance to both interrupt the noisy game and guarantee that Anakron would accept her second attempt to claim a celebrity's treasured possession. She grabbed a sticker that read "Official Representative" and hurried out onto the field. Coming up to David Beckham, she tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said.

"Yes?"

"I am from the...um...um...yes...Mordor Football Association. Yes, that's it. I'm here to take your football shoes for inspection."

"What?" Beckham's eyes went wide in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" To herself, Panakeia repeated the question with a different emphasis. "What am I talking about?" She went on. "Yes, well, the thing is, there's some debate as to whether or not your footwear is in keeping with regulation. So I've been sent here to take them for examination."

Beckham snapped at her. "That's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? You're calling the Mordor Football Association ridiculous? Do you want to be suspended?" She imitated her professor's threatening gaze.

Beckham whined. "But I like these shoes. They're my most important...thing."

"They'll be returned to you," Panakeia replied. She held out her hand. "The shoes, please." Beckham removed the shoes and handed them to her.

"Just make sure you give these back to me in the same condition that I gave them to you." Panakeia looked at the shoes. They were filthy and gave off a vaguely unpleasant odor. It would take all of her effort not to throw the shoes away, let alone tamper with them.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure no one will do anything to them. Thank you." Then she went over to McNabb.

"You," she barked. Panakeia pointed to his jersey, a green shirt printed with a white 5. "Give me that shirt now."

"Yo! What are youse talking about? This is my Eagles jersey. I love it. It means I'm on the team. I wouldn't give it away for anything." He stared at Panakeia.

Panakeia walked closer, nose nearly touching the top of the 5. She bent her neck upward. "Do you know who I am?" she yelled. "I'm an official with the Mordor Football Association, and we think that jersey might not be an officially licensed garment. Hand it over now."

"Aw, come on. Youse guys know it's official. The team gave it to me. It's licensed."

Panakeia didn't back down. "If it's licensed we'll give it back to you. Hand it over."

McNabb pouted, then took off the jersey and gave it to Panakeia. "I want it back. I can't wear this on the team." He waved his hand over a T-shirt with a smiley face print.

"Don't worry. I'm sure the inspection process won't take more than a few months. Thanks." She hurried back to the dorm while McNabb howled in protest over the 'few months.'

Panakeia put her room key into the lock. The door opened to reveal a strange group, comprised of a beaver, a sparrow, and a man in a black cape, hat, and mask. Panakeia turned on her heel. "Excuse me. I must have the wrong room." She tried to leave but was intercepted by the odd trio. The man took the shoes and shirt and put them on the couch.

"Are you with us or against us?" he asked.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about," Panakeia replied.

"A Slan is returning. He is on the move again," said the beaver. Panakeia stared at the talking animal.

The sparrow chirped. "Your roommate has joined the other side. War is about to begin."

The man spoke again. "Where do you stand?"

"I have no idea what any of you are talking about. Where do I stand? I suppose I stand wherever my roommate doesn't."

The beaver spoke again. "Then you are with A Slan."

"What exactly is A Slan?" Panakeia asked.

The sparrow squeaked. "He is."

The beaver said, "A Slan is returning."

Great. Just what I need. Animals that give me riddles. And now I'm on the side of something called a Slan, whatever that is. Wonderful. Panakeia wasn't very happy with this turn of events.

The man slashed a 'Z' into Panakeia's roommate's blanket. "Come with us," he said.

"Wait. Come with you? I can't. I have to give these things to Anakron."

The group stepped back in horror. The man spoke. "Anakron? Then you are on his side. You are against us."

Oh no. Here we go again. "No. I don't like Anakron. But if I upset him, I don't get out of Mordor. Look, can't you let me be neutral?"

"The time for neutrality is past. The times are changing. What side are you on? Choose quickly."

How do I get out of this? Think! "Neither A Slan, nor Anakron. I side with Kirk."

The trio held a quick conference. Then the beaver spoke. "Kirk? Who is Kirk? Which side is he on?"

Panakeia decided to join the riddle game. "Kirk is."

"Kirk is what?"

"You'll have to ask him," she said. "Seek for the Captain! He will tell you what you need to know."

The three returned to their private discussions. At last, the sparrow gave a reply. "We will find this Captain of yours. But we will be back. A Slan is returning."

"Fine." The strangers filed out of the room.

After the door closed on her visitors, Panakeia gave a sigh of relief. Hopefully, the ploy would keep her out of whatever trouble was brewing. Her goal was to stall for enough time to leave Mordor before the sides, whatever they were, and the Slan, whatever it was, started their battle.