[the guy who be short]

On the grounds of the campus, battle was brewing such as Mordor had not seen for centuries. Fléin, at the great gates of the old stone building, peered out at the scene, astonished at the speed with which the world was mobilising itself.

A mob of students stood on one side, murmuring so that though no voice was discernible, the overall effect was like the humming of either a few million ordinary bees, or one really, really big one, whichever analogy you prefer.

And in the centre of the mob stood Anakron. Fléin looked around, but could see no other members of the Offending Party on the field yet, though he could easily have missed somebody in the thousands massed there. He noticed, however, that Ketchupkin, along with the other four Dwarves, numbered themselves amongst the Parents. They looked quite out of place, kitted in mail, axes in hand, amongst the parents.

The Parents, Fléin noted, seemed a lot better organised than Anakron. They stood in ordered ranks, and many bore banners. "A Slan Comes!" some claimed. Others displayed anger at Anakron and the sybaritic lifestyle students were offered. And also - Fléin reflected that their faces did not bear the downtrodden look typical of Mordorians. These were an invading force.

Fléin walked out and drew his axe. Few noticed the Dwarf joining the Parents, but Fléin noted Anakron's eyes following him. The glare from his eyes near paralysed the Dwarf, but he tore himself away from their gaze and joined Ketchupkin, who nodded.

Amongst the parents, Fléin noted that, as well as being prepared, they actually bore many weapons. Staffs, sticks and everyday household objects seemed prominent. Several people has soap spears for some reason. Women carried kitchen knives, men held D.I.Y tools.

Fléin peels his eyes away from the arms of his allies to note Anakron stepping forward and advancing towards the parents. A man had also peeled himself off from the Parents, and advanced towards Anakron. They met in between the two armies.

Anakron ignored the Parent and turned to face Fléin. "Fléin!" he cried across the field. "Do not involve yourself. You know not what happens."

Thousands of eyes turned on the Dwarf. "I saw you! I saw you murder A Slan! I saw you slaughter him!" the Dwarf bellowed back.

An uproar ensued. Anakron's reply was lost in the Parents' stamping their spears and roaring insults at the dark figure before them. Their leader appealed for calm, but the insults continued to flow for minutes. Anakron merely laughed.

Finally, they died down, and Anakron turned to face Fléin once more. "You have chosen. But I have slain A Slan, and my victory is certain."

At this, the ranks of the parents could hold back no more. As one, they charged forward. The Students in turn rushed forward, unruly as ever.

Anakron struck down the Parental Leader, knocking him to the ground. Then, he raised his staff, and for all the noise of screaming thousands, Fléin could hear him as clear as riverwater. "Anakronism Commence!" he yelled.

The ground all around Anakron erupted. All around him, the fell creatures Fléin had seen on the night of A Slan's cold-blooded murder appeared, howling and drooling. The Students cheered.

Anakron bashed his staff again. There was a flash of light, and several winged Balrogs appeared, again accompanied by cheers.

A final slamming of the staff into the ground, and teachers and professors came into being.

All the time, they were getting closer and closer as Fléin rushed on. Each banging of the staff brought his heart closer and closer to failure: he didn't even know what he was fighting for. What was A Slan? But momentum carried him forwards, and the knowledge that, if he should do anything so foolish as to doubt himself, he would be crushed by the oncoming hoards behind.

With a yell of anticipation, fear, apprehension and a myriad emotions before unfelt, Fléin hit the ranks of those who would stand against him and A Slan.