The orcs catapulted one large block of snow after another at the defenders. But they were surprised to suddenly hear a large squish, squish, squish noise. Startled, they spun, and saw great puffs of steam rising one after the other.
"Eeeee!" "Oyoyoyoy!" "Waaaaugh!" "I-yi-yi-yi-yi!"
"Steal my thunder, will you," growled the Balrog of Morgoth. One puff of his balrog-breath not only sent all the orcs scurrying for fresh air, it also incinerated their catapult machine. "Newfangled gadgety junk. Nothing beats good old fire, " grumbled Roggie as he stomped off in disgust. The orcs were distressed to find that the melted snow from his footprints was flowing towards them. Luckily it was blocked by a huge snowdrift.
A leafy head came into view. "Release the Rivah!" the Ent roared, digging at the snowdrift, and Roggie snorted at him, igniting his hair. The Ent quenched it in the Rivah, and Roggie rumbled away.
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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