Assigned to Mordor RPG

[Kath]

Sai had not minded that Alli wouldn’t be very sociable throughout the flight. She had always enjoyed being able to sit by a window and watch as the world went by beneath her, and a lack of distractions would make that easier. So she sat in a window seat (for once blessedly empty), pressed her nose against the glass and remained happily amused that way for a good few hours.

She was so enthralled that she started when Alli spoke, not having realised that she was awake. She looked over and noted that the girl seemed worried about something, but by this time knew better than to ask what it was.

“Not long.” She replied. “We’ve been getting lower for a while now so . . .”

Her words were interrupted as the wheels of the plane suddenly hit the ground without warning. Sai and Alli were thrown forward but managed to catch themselves before they fell out of their chairs. From the screams coming through the floor, those below in the cargo hold weren’t so lucky. The plane came to stop a few minutes later, and Sai finally stopped clutching the arms of her seat. She saw Alli release her equally white-knuckled grip and the two of them slowly stood up, hoping their shaky legs would hold them up.

“I’ll go get the others out of the hold.” Sai offered, needing to get onto stable earth as quickly as possible (or at least as stable as was possible in Mordor). “You can go ‘thank’ our pilot.”

Alli nodded and headed towards the front of the plane. Sai climbed down the stairs that must either have travelled with them the entire journey or had just mysteriously appeared out of thin air, as there was no one around who could have put them there. She opened the door to the hold and as she did she was knocked over backwards as a body fell on top of her. Scrambling out from underneath Sai laughed as she realised it was Tom. The poor boy had been sitting with his back right up against the door so he could escape as quickly as possible. Hauling him to his feet she began to lead him away from the plane and his new fangirls followed right behind.

They made their way to the specified meeting point, Alli joining them about halfway through the journey. Depositing Tom, the fangirls and the box in front of Anakron, Sai and Alli waited for the rest of the group to arrive.

[littlemanpoet]

Anakron almost smiled. Alli and Sai had returned early, with their most valuables and more to boot. Very good.

"I see you have Rowling's bad-boy (but no Rowling which doesn't matter as how could you since she is otherwise occupied) and Bloom's fangirls, Alli. Well done. And without Mardil's help. More than enough. Certainly more than one, or three. Not to mention your extra curricular activities. Ten points." Sai was casting her glance between Alli and Anakron, mystified as to what extra curricular activities Anakron referred to.

"Never you mind, my dear Sai; you have more than enough to concern yourself with, let me assure you." So speaking, he lifted his staff. "Let the Dweomer be activated as is most appropriate at this time in the case of Sai."

Suddenly Sai's kamuraorc stepped up beside her, staring at her with his big, bloodshot eyes all soft and gooey (well, ***** actually), grinning stupidly. "I've been meaning to tell woo, that woo awe the howse-apple -" Suddenly his eyes went big and his greenish face went completely green. "Ulp!" he said, and hurled all over Sai.

"Yuck!" Sai yelled.

The kamuraorc's eyes widened. "How did woo know the mating call of the female owc!?" He grinned and retched again.

Anakron clicked his tongue. "Control yourself, Lurge!"

"Sowwy, siw."

"Some of these anakronisms are just so appealing," Anakron murmured. "At least, Sai, you have done most admirably in disabusing JLo of her - ahem - slightly overabundant assets. Ten points."

Anakron turned to the Siamese Cat atop his staff. "Tell me, Sylvester, how do Panakeia and Valde fare? And don't spit while you talk."

The cat became furry and black and white with an oversized nose and eyes and couldn't keep his tongue in his cheeks. "She's falling for him but thtaying on her own two feet. He's getting all fowled up-" here Sylvester grinned.

"I said, don't spit when you speak."

"Thorry."

"There you go again."

"Thorry again," Sylvester grimaced. "Anyway, he's getting all fowled up with Drekkies."

"No doubt Panakeia will rescue him somehow, as he will no doubt need it once he has disabused Spockú of his Lord Foul Brow. Ah, I feel another dweomer coming on. Cat, return to your former state."

"Awww!" Sylvester bawled, and became part of the staff again.

"Panakeia shall try to flirt and thus hurl."

Alli's hand went to her hip. "Is that it?! How unoriginal!"

"Do not speak of unoriginal, as very soon, once Mardil can be found, I foresee you relinquishing Balrog fur through your food orifice."

Her eyes went wide with horror. "No! Not that! Anything but that! You're so cruel!"

"But of course. I taught the likes of you before I was ensconced in my current disposition. Now go distract yourselves with your ill-gotten most valuables. I promise you, Orlando and JLo are not happy and are hot on your tails. So tuck them and run. And Lurge, don't drool.

"One last thing, Alli and Sai, after you've taken care of Tom, Orlando, JLo, Lurge, and assorted mindless twits of the female gender, be back here spot on sundown. Kapiche?"

Off they ran. Not a moment too soon, as up came an entire crew of Trollywood sets, actors, kamuraorcs, and all assorted hangers-on thereof. And Bleater Quackson, of course.

"We're ready for the big scene!" Bleater said.

"Have all the bureaucratic red tape and actors' contracts been completed?

"Yes!"

"Roggie's and Queen Quon's as well?"

"Of course!"

"And J.K.'s?"

But of course! I never overlook any detail, even if it doesn't belong."

"Well then, get on with it."

Bleater turned to his crew and gave the order, then pointed at what was left of Mount Doom. "Roll!" he shouted.

On the southern slope was Queen Quon, using two clawed feet and one hand to climb while holding something in the other.... which happened to be gesticulating madly and screaming at the top of its lungs.

"Rowling, I presume?" asked Anakron.

"But of course! They wouldn't let me direct her films, so this is turn about fair play!"

On the north face climbed Roggie, also holding something in his fist. Only, this particular 'thing' was watching everything that happened with a bored look in his eyes, his chin resting on his elbow, disdaining to show the least bit of excitement regarding his predicament.

"Mardil, I presume?" asked Anakron.

"Yes! And thanks!"

"He agreed?"

"He said he always wanted to be an actor in a movie. Now he gets his chance."

"He doesn't seem to be enjoying it."

"That's the way he's supposed to play it."

Anakron shrugged and waited for the moment when the two monsters would see each other over the crest of what was left of Mount Doom; not to mention, what would happen when Mardil was confronted with Rowling.

[Encaitare]

“How do I know you’re not a pair of dognappers,” the driver asked suspiciously.

Wilhelmina held up the yapping dog, displaying its bleached tail. “Tinkerbell has the dog flu!” she told him. “I’m Miss Hiltôn’s spiritual advisor, dearie; we’re very close, and she’s given me special instructions to take the poor puppy to the resort hotel where she can see a doctor friend of ours. I knew this would happen, of course,” she added. “It’s been in the stars for months.”

“And who are you?” the driver asked the kamuraorc.

“Uh… just fiwming, siw. Hewe to make suwe Tinkewbeww is tweated pwopewwy.” The orc glanced nervously at Wilhelmina and she nodded ever so slightly. Maybe the orc wasn’t a complete loss.

“Okay, then. I’ll take you to the hotel.” The driver opened the door, and Wilhelmina, the kamuraorc, and Tinkerbell (and Mr. Swanky, deep in the recesses of Wilhelmina’s hat) got inside.

“Thank you, young man.”

“No problem,” he said, getting into the front seat and promptly changing into an orc. “I’ll get you there in no time – I drive fast.”

[the guy who be short]

Fléin emerged, or so it seemed to the baffled orc, from nowhere. In one hand, at arm's length, he held a net with something large and round within. In the other arm, shoved against his chest and pressed to his body as well as held in his hands, was... gold. Lots of gold. The orc felt something wet splat on his foot, only to find that he had started drooling.

"Oi, you sod! Get over here!" the Dwarf bellowed across the field at him. All the birds around the park took off in fright, and the bandy-legged little creature snuffled across the grass to him. He noticed that the round thing-in-the-bag had started wriggling around at the noise, and approached with not a little apprehension.

"Carry all this, will you?" Fléin shouted at him over the twittering of Sparrow, and dropped all the gold on the ground. "And don't try and steal any... I've counted it all up.

The orc took possession of the gold - in the form of sceptres, crowns and necklaces, mostly - while Fléin bashed the Sparrow on the head to render it unconscious once more, shutting it up. He could feel the orc's curiosity, but decided to ignore it in the hope that the orc would know better than to disturb him.

"What'th that thpar-"

"WHY?"

"What?"

"Why, why, my orc, do you insist on bantering?" The Dwarf shook his head so ferociously that Sparrow woke up again, and added his twittering to Fléin's frustration, forcing him to shout. "Why must you speak? Just act. Your purpose is not to speak."

He threw a disgusted look at the orc, who duly started picking up the gold, and then turned it to the squeaky Sparrow. "And if you don't shut up, Jack, I'll bash your head it and spit roast you. Bringing you back alive wasn't part of my contract." The bird too shut up, and Fléin suddenly felt a lot happier.

Five hours later (he had had to wait for a bus, after all) he was back at the resort, a bird in the hand, and showing it to Anakron.