Assigned to Mordor RPG

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

It was the eyebrow that did it. Obviously Mardil wasn't one of those easily offended people and that impressed Alli. Of course he didn't need that he'd won so easily... he'd have to try a little harder to get a public display of her approval.

She nodded subtly to Sai and spoke to Mardil with derision. "Good luck marking my map. If you can find it, you're welcome to write on it. And I'll need a good reason to travel with you... after all, I don't even know you."

Alli didn't want to jab too much... she didn't want him to leave... but at the same time, she wanted to make sure he knew that she could handle herself... or at least make sure that he thought that she could. If nothing else, Alli wanted to be seen as tough enough to take out a dozen enemies in one fell swoop. Her first week in Mordor had been horrible... she'd been scared and didn't hide it well enough. First she'd been singled out by a band of bullying orcs that had intimidated her into handing over her money. Then, alone and with no money, she'd had to find a place to sleep in safety. She didn't even want to think of those first few nights...

She was better off now, and not likely to be pushed around due to her very convincing, or so she thought, bravado, but it still didn't hurt to scare people off before they could bother her. If they stuck around, they were either really insistent on messing with her... or worth having around. Her only trouble, really, was differentiating.

"Well?" she prodded. "What do you have to say? Why should we travel with you?"

[the phantom]

"Why should you travel with me?" repeated Mardil. "If you don't see the advantage of having someone with you who knows the way and is well armed, then I don't think you are intelligent enough to deserve my companionship."

Alli glared at Mardil, but said nothing. Sai looked like she wanted to say something to smooth everything over, but Mardil spoke again. "There's no need to look at me like that- my comment was made in jest. The fact is, I know that you know perfectly well the advantage in having me along. That makes me wonder, why would you ask me to answer something that you have already answered in your own mind? It seems to me that you never intended for me to answer, and that the only reason to ask such a question would be to imply that I have nothing to offer and you have everything you need. It was an attempt to insult me and increase your stature in my eyes at the same time... very nice, very nice indeed!" exclaimed Mardil with a grin.

Alli racked her brain, but couldn't think of anything good to say. She very much disliked Mardil's interpretation of her words. It was too accurate.

"Well," said Sai, eager to break the silence, "Just so you know I am not at all opposed to joining forces, and the sooner we reach a decision one way or the other the sooner we can be on our way."

Mardil turned and studied Sai. "Your words show that you are capable of cutting through attitudes and personalities straight to the facts. I like that. You seem to recognize a good arrangement when you hear one and so will be willing to stick with it as long as it is mutually beneficial. As far as I am concerned you have my stamp of approval as a traveling companion- for now. And if I may ask, your face- there's something there that suggests the old, high Numenorean blood. I can't quite put my finger on it. And your garments, though they are dusty and frayed, look like they were once very fine. You come from a wealthy family, yes?"

Then, Mardil turned his attention back to Alli. Mardil immediately recognized that Alli was putting on a bit of a front. He had rubbed shoulders with politicians enough during his early life that he could sniff out a front rather quickly. Now, the trick was figuring out what was truly Alli and what wasn't, and to appeal to her true self. He stood considering for a moment and then spoke. "It is clear you have a grudge against the aristocracy. It seems to me that the only way an intelligent person like yourself could harbor such feelings is if you had had a few actual opinion-forming encounters with the aristocracy. That leads me to believe that you used to live near an area of concentrated wealth and power- Minas Tirith. Also, your speech and bearing make it clear that you received a quality education within the White City's walls, so you certainly were not poor. I'm guessing you come from a middle class merchant family."

Then Mardil leaned in a bit closer and added, "And just in case it makes a difference to you, I, too, have a rather large grudge against the rulers of Minas Tirith."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Alli wanted to smile. She wanted to laugh and enthusiastically throw her arms around this intuitive man as she would have at home in the old days to an old friend that pointed out when she was dodging questions and being intentionally obtuse. She was very amused by his astute observations... but he didn't need to know that. He was too accurate for her comfort, and that completely neutralized her excitement that she'd be travelling with somebody actually able to give tart responses as easily as he could take them. His accuracy made her wonder how much of her act he saw through. He seemed to have their mutual best interests in order, but if he could find his way through her charade, she wondered who else would be so easily able to tell how relieved she was that she and Sai would have protection on the road back home. If they could sense relief the second aid was offered, they could sense that aid was desired or needed. She didn't want to feel indebted to anybody... especially not a noble, no matter how handsome, amusing, and empathetic he was.

Alli's face now took on an unreadable quality. She spoke more quietly now... more politely, but far less revealingly. "I would welcome your accompaniment, Lord Mardil. Thank you for the offer."

[Kath]

Sai had stood quietly by as Alli and Mardil conversed, knowing that the other girl needed to get her position in relation to the man clear in both her head and his. She intervened a couple of times when Alli seemed a little stuck for words, but became speechless herself as Mardil began to poke into her origins by analysing her features and clothes. He was laughably inaccurate, but because she wanted to avoid being a trouble-maker to try and keep the already tenuous peace she chose not to reply to his words.

She was glad to see though that his interpretation of Alli's words and actions was much closer to the mark. She watched as the girls face closed off a little further after each comment until it was almost unreadable. The poor thing was obviously very confused, but it was clear that she was pleased to have Mardil as a companion. Even so, Sai breathed a sigh of relief when she did eventually agree to travelling with Mardil.

Just as she was beginning to think that, even with her strange companions, the trip out of Mordor might be easier now, a bright yellow van screeched into view and an incredibly up himself man leapt out and headed towards Mardil.

[Encaitare]

Wilhelmina had set off straight away in what seemed to be a likely direction. In her opinion, it was always better to be going somewhere -- anywhere -- than to be standing still. But in this place, it seemed that everyone was in a rush, and one had to move quickly or risk being run over by the myriad of speeding cars and their nasty drivers. She purposefully hurried along the dirty, chewing gum-spattered sidewalk, wondering how exactly she was supposed to find her way to Edge-where. During her time spent in Mordor, she'd only been to Lûndûn once or twice times, and knew nothing about the city's layout. She found the place wholly distasteful, quite frankly. 'Disgusting,' she thought as an orc spat on the ground not a foot away from her. She moved away from him and found a little alcove where she could get out of the rush of people.

Examining the map, she realized how ridiculously unhelpful it was. Firstly, the city was very crowded, and the tall buildings leaned in on the streets like stuffy bureaucrats. That plus the amount of smog in the air made it next to impossible to even judge direction by the sun. Wilhelmina shook her head in frustration. What good was a map if you couldn't tell North from South? She turned the map around a few times and then craned her neck in search of a street sign. Her hat teetered dangerously on her head, but the small squeak of distress that came from inside it was completely lost in the din of the traffic. All she could see, though, were a couple of lonely-looking poles -- apparently the nearby signs had all been stolen.

"Honestly!" she complained. "Civilization, they say? Ha!" She scanned the sky again and decided that the hazy circle of light behind the smog had to be the sun, however pitiful it appeared. "Alright... it's still morning, so that'll be East." She aligned her map in accordance and stepped back into the street, vowing to give anyone else who spat on the ground near her a smart whack with her walking stick.

She hadn't even gotten to the corner when she felt a tap on her arm. Turning about (and looking slightly downward) she saw that it was the Dwarf. "Oh, hello," she said. "Where did you come from?"

"I've been shouting your name, but you didn't hear," he said. "Do you know where everyone is?"

"No," Wilhelmina told him. "But no matter. I didn't like the look of the others very much. That Panakeia's nothing but a scamming charlatan. And that man looked too mopey, like one of those emo kids... what was his name? Waldo, or something like that..."

The dwarf was about to reply, but they were both distracted by the sheer garishness of the yellow van that pulled up next to them. Blimmin' Barblecashing Corpulation? What in Middle-earth was that?

Before she knew what was happening, a man was shoving an ice-cream-cone-shaped object in her face and asking for her name. "Wilhelmina Brochenbach," she said with some confusion. "What's it to you?"

"You're on our show," the man hissed, showing off his bad teeth.

"A show? I don't have time to be on any kind of reality show! I have somewhere to be!"

"Of course you've got somewhere to be -- on top! You're going to be a star," enthused the host.

"You get away from me, and take that stupid thing out of my face," she ordered in what she hoped was a menacing tone.

"Sorry, deary, but we've a contract from the guv'ment saying that we have the right to film you." He held up a piece of paper which bore the seal of none but Anakron himself. Wilhelmina made a mental note to give him a piece of her mind when next she saw him. But as the man led her away, she began to wonder if that would even happen.

[the phantom]

Mardil was glad the two young ladies had agreed to travel with him, and he also found a bit of pleasure in Alli's reaction to him. She had gone from insulting and derisive to self conscious and tentative in less than a minute. "It's obvious my guesses about her were right," thought Mardil. "And it seems that she never gets close enough to anyone to let them know the real Alli, otherwise she wouldn't have been thrown off so badly by my accuracy. She's put a shell around herself, that much is certain- though I can't guess why."

At that moment a van that said Ridiculously Cacophonous Arsininity pulled up and stopped next to them with a screech. A man wearing a lot of bling-bling hopped out of the passenger side and strutted up to Mardil, using one hand to hold up his overly large and baggy pants. His other hand held a document. Mardil took it and read it when it was offered. It demanded Mardil go with him back to the studio and begin work on a rap album.

Mardil turned to Alli and Sai. "This is great!" he exclaimed.

"Um, yeah it's great to get a record deal and all," said Sai, "But what about the whole getting OUT of MORDOR thing?! Did you forget about that?!"

"No, no- not at all. I've been to Ridiculously Cacophonous Arsininity before. The record company's studios and headquarters are all located just down the Northern Line from Edge-Where- near Entish Town. Look, right up here," he said, pointing to his BU map. "This will save us quite a hike."

"But you don't have time to do an album!" protested Sai.

"You really think I'm going to miss my chance to escape Mordor?" asked Mardil. "That's crazy." Mardil then looked Sai right in the eye. "Don't worry," he said with sincerity, and then he shifted his gaze to Alli. "I'll make sure we make it to Edge-Where on time."

Mardil turned to the man and smiled. "I'd love to sign a record deal with RCA. But, the three of us are a packaged deal. I can't perform without my backup singers."

"Hey, hey, man, that aint no problem. We'll jus' sign them up too. But don't you worry, dog, we dont' haveta do all that paperwork now. Get in the van and we'll take ya right to the studio, turn the mic on, an' let ya do a li'l freestylin' to break you in."

"Sounds good to me," said Mardil with a smile. "Come on, ladies, let's not keep this gentleman waiting."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"You can't be serious." exploded Alli. "If it means getting to Edge-where more quickly, then by all means, we can take the van, but if you think that I'm going to be your backup singer in some lame rap recording, you've got another think coming."

Sai waited calmly for Alli's annoyance to fade; even their short acquaintanceship had taught her that Alli didn't stay angry for long. Mardil simply cocked an eyebrow at her with an expression that seemed to convey amusement at her rash reactions and the slightest annoyance that she didn't yet have full confidence in him. Alli suddenly felt slightly ashamed at her outburst. In the few minutes she'd spent with Mardil, he'd made her feel like an immature and hasty child several times. She had no reason to believe that any sane person, and Mardil seemed sane, would prefer free-style rapping in Mordor to doing anything in the world outside of the place. Surely he knew what he was doing. She just wished he'd clue her in.

Now she wished that she could apologize, but at the same time, she really didn't want to. If she apologized, it meant an embarassing moment of admitting that she was wrong. She'd prefer that a moment like that not come so early in a relationship... talk about starting off on the wrong foot... what sort of impression would it leave of her that first she spoke and then she admitted that what she said wasn't right? No... it would be better to pretend she hadn't acted so foolishly. If she didn't mention it, hopefully they wouldn't... though this was Mordor and Alli had learned early that any possible annoyance that she could even think of, much less experience, was likely to kick her square in the nose before she could see it coming.

[Encaitare]

"So, tell us a few things about yourself, Ms. Brokenback," the host, who had introduced himself as Karís Mâtiktwít said with a grin of dubious sincerity and hue. "How long have you been in Mordor?"

"It's Brochenbach," Wilhelmina told him in indignation.

His expression did not change. "Right, and how long have you been in Mordor?"

"Er... fifty-odd years." She glanced down the street but Fléin was no longer visible: he'd either gone in another direction, or was just too short to be seen in the crowd.

"And what were you assigned here for?" he asked, the preposition dangling like mucus from the nose of a person with a particularly bad cold virus.

"There was an incident involving carbonated beverage terminology, among other things... Look, young man, do you really have to wave that... that ice-cream-cone-shaped thing at me whenever I say anything?"

The host did not acknowledge her question, but rather delved for further information. "Other things?" He turned to look straight into the strange thing on the Uruk-hai's shoulder. "Might our star have some juicy secrets hidden in her past? We'll see if we can get her to divulge them as we follow her around the city. We're going to take a short break, but don't go away! We'll be back with more footage and exclusive interviews that you'll see only on 'Escape from Mordor'! And... cut," he concluded. "Alright, nice shooting. Wilhelmina, if you could be a little more charismatic, that would be just great. Let's take it down the street. Action!"

Karís went down the street, and the Uruk-hai gestured at her to follow him; he in turn walked behind the pair as they fought to get through the crowd.

"Where are we going? I have to get to Edge-Where. You do know that, don't you?"

"Of course," the man said, looking straight ahead. "And we're going to follow you around as you do it."

"Mr. Mâtiktwít," Wilhelmina said, "it would seem to me that I am the one following, not the other way around. Why are we walking down this street, anyway?"

"It's for a certain type of shot," he muttered irritably. "We're going to speed it up after filming. Reality shows do it all the time."

"I wouldn't know," the old woman sniffed. "I've never watched one."

[Celuien]

Panakeia cautiously picked her way down the steps. Walking with one stiletto heeled shoe and one flat shoe was a challenge at any time, more so while attempting to carry a heavy sample case down an unevenly graded, crowded, litter-strewn flight of stairs. Shoved from behind by a large man in a business suit who was in a rush, she was only saved from falling by tipping into a woman ahead of her.

She turned to face Panakeia. Her red, teary eyes were nearly swollen shut from conjunctivitis. Phlegm ran down her face from a raging cold. "Ere, wbbuy duch oo ink oo're goin?" she mumbled through a stuffy nose.

"I beg your pardon?" Panakeia replied.

"Wbbuy duch oo ink ere oo're goin?" the woman repeated in a louder tone. "Oo puched me."

Panakeia thought for a moment, trying to figure out what the woman was saying. "Oh, I see. Sorry about that. It was an accident."

The woman shrugged. Suddenly her face contorted, nose wrinkled, upper lip drawn back, and eyes squeezed even more tightly shut than before. She grabbed at Panakeia's scarf, which was instantly pulled back by a ducking Panakeia, and sneezed, spraying the business-suited man behind with cold virus. He began to yell. Snickering, Panakeia wove through the crowd, now stopped to gawk at the confrontation, and reached the bottom of the steps. A large map of the BilddyUnnergrind stood there, covered in used chewing gum and graffiti. The graffiti puzzled Panakeia. Most of it was the usual stuff of Mordor, illegible scrawls and scribbles. But mixed in with the waving lines were several messages such as "No new fare increases" "Down with the Transit Authority" "Fûmës for Transit Chief" and "Free Willy!" All of the material obscured the map so much that it was impossible to read, other than the words "You" and "here" on a red dot above Rût’s Lip Garden Station. The "are" was covered by a particularly large piece of gum. Panakeia pulled her map out of her pocket. Now that she had a better idea of where she was, the map made more sense. Red line to Potted Ham Court Road, change trains for Edge-Where. Seems simple enough.

Off she went to find a ticket counter. The line stretched back all the way to the stairs and didn't appear to be moving. Panakeia stood her sample case on end and sat down. At least it's good for something. I've lugged it around long enough. She waited. And waited. And waited. Panakeia began to despair. What's taking so long? I'll never make it to Edge-Where on time. But at last, she stood at the head of the line. An Orc stood behind the counter, snapping gum in her mouth. Panakeia thought she recognized the shade of blonde the Orc had dyed her hair. It was the same as Panakeia's, wrought through the wonders of Pearie Ockcide Potion.

"Good morning, afternoon, evening and morning again! Welcome to the Rût’s Lip Garden Station. My name is Tiffany. It is my pleasure to serve you with a smile." Here she smiled, baring a row of yellow, jagged teeth. One was gold, and another had Tiffany's gum on it. "How may I assist you today?"

"I'm going to Edge-Where."

Tiffany nodded. "Yes, indeed. Edge-Where. Edge-Where? Hmm. I'm very sorry, but it's not on this line. Perhaps you would like to visit Chance of Rain instead?" she queried hopefully. "I hear the weather is beautiful there."

Panakeia tapped her foot impatiently. "No. Edge-Where. This line goes to Potted Ham Court Road, true?"

"Indeed it does, madam."

"Well, then you change trains for Edge-Where, can't you?"

Tiffany looked puzzled. "I'll have to ask my supervisor. Please wait." Tiffany hung a "Closed" sign and vanished. 20 minutes passed. Tiffany returned, carrying two tickets in her hand.

"My deepest apologies for the inconvenience. You are correct. Here are your tickets. One to Potted Ham Court Road, and the next to Edge-Where at the end of the Grey Line. The southbound track is to your right, my left. Or is it my right, your left. In any case, the track is that way." Tiffany pointed to the left. "3 Trolls, 75 Maggots, please."

Panakeia stopped. "Wait. The fare is 2 Trolls, 50 Maggots."

Tiffany smiled and nodded. "Yes, that is correct. But we charge half-fare for transfers."

"Oh, alright. Prices always go up. Don't they ever go down?"

The smile faded from Tiffany's face. Her eyes widened and her voice dropped to a raspy whisper. "You aren't one of the Fûmësists, are you?"

"Tiffany, I had never heard of this Fûmës before today, and I wish I never had." Panakeia slammed her fare down on the counter and snatched her tickets. "I just want to get to Edge-Where." She stormed off to the track. At the edge of the platform, three street-musicians, clad in brightly colored striped shirts, stood tuning their instruments. The instruments were odd. One was white and round as a Hobbit's window. The two others looked somewhat more ordinary, shaped similarly to a fiddle, but with a large hole in the center. All three musicians held their instruments in front on them. One of them then stood in front of the rest and began to speak at the top of his voice.

"These are the times that try our souls. In the course of our history, the people of Lûndûn have rallied bravely whenever the rights of men, women, Orcs, or individuals of any gender, nationality or species have been threatened. Today, a new crisis has arisen. The Mordor Transit Authority, better known as the M. T. A., is attempting to levy a burdensome tax on the population in the form of a BilddyUnnergrind fare increase. Citizens, hear me out!" He gave added emphasis to each of his next words, as if in warning. "This could happen to you!"

All three began to pluck their instruments. And the man began to sing.

Well, let me tell you of the story of a man named Willy on a tragic and fateful day.
He put ten Crows in his pocket, kissed his wife and family, went to ride on the M. T. A.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.

Here, the other two performers injected.

What a pity! Poor ole Willy. Shame and scandal. He may ride forever. Just like Earendil.

He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Willy handed in his Crows at the Ents Stand Square Station and he changed for Chance Of Rain.
When he got there the conductor told him, one more Warg. Willy couldn't get off of that train.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Now, all night long Willy rides through the station, crying, “What will become of me?!!”
How can I afford to see my sister in Uruk-bridge or my cousin in Queen’s Bury?

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Willy's wife goes down to the Rût’s Lip Garden Station every day at quarter past two.
And through the open window she hands Willy a sandwich as the train comes rumblin' through.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Now, you citizens of Lûndûn, don't you think it's a scandal how the people have to pay and pay?
Fight the fare increase! Vote for Eckaust Fûmës! Get poor Willy off the M. T. A.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.
He's the man who never returned. He's the man who never returned.

The lead singer turned to face the track. “Ain't you Willy?” he wailed.

As if in reply, a train came rushing down the track. A haggard looking man leaned out the window, and the assembled crowd called out “Willy! There’s Willy! We’ll save you. Free Willy!” And a woman hurried up to the still moving train with a brown paper bag. As it stopped, she handed the bag to Willy. A cheer went up, and half of the people in the crowd tossed coins to the musicians, who promised to take it directly to Mr. Eckaust Fûmës to aid his campaign and hopefully, save Willy from his terrible fate.

Panakeia rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Another political campaign stunt. Ridiculous."

A gullible man next to Panakeia stood wiping tears from his eyes. "How can you say that? Poor Willy!"

Panakeia shook her head. "Look at all the money. If they were really trying to help this Willy, don't you think they would just hand him the extra Warg? They have at least 20 Trolls there. My guess is that Willy is in on this too. It's a brilliant plan."

The man's expression changed as he considered Panakeia's words. But he said "No, I don't believe you. No one would ever be so dishonest."

What a fool, Panakeia thought to herself. Seems like a perfect customer. Just as she was preparing to work a sales pitch on him for some Instant Bodybuilder Protein Shakes, the train doors opened and the conductor came out onto the platform.

"All aboard for the southbound red line. All aboard for South Rût’s Lip, Orc Hold, and points south. All aboard."

Panakeia stood up, lifted her sample case, and shuffled toward the train. As she reached the edge of the platform, the doors began to shut. "No!" she cried. With a final effort, Panakeia shoved ahead and slipped onto the train just as the doors closed behind her.