ATM II RPG

[Hookbill the Goomba]

The wind stirred about the shelf as Alatar the Brown stood as menacingly as he could before the group of odd individuals. Alli picked up a sword that was lying on the floor as a writer's convenience. Smilog drew his axe and Tollin his Morning star. Alatar raised his staff and laughed.

"Dost thou think that mortal blade canst harm me?" he cried, "thou fool! Thou FOOL! Do you not know death when you see it?" The earth trembled slightly as Alatar approached them. His brown robes began to whirl around as his wizardry began to take shape and his eyes blazed like a fire. Smilog lapped forward and swung his axe, but the Wizard moved his staff slightly and the dwarf was sent back down to the ground with a thud.

Alli held her sword up and said, "Before you kill us," she coughed, "I just need to know one thing. Why are you doing all this? Why Mordor?"

"It is coming!" replied the Wizard, "the battle."

"Yes," said Aime, "we can see that. There is that big army of yours over there."

"No," laughed Alatar, "the battle. The Dagor Dagroth. The end of the age. It is coming. Did you not hear the words of the seer?

'When the grey Wizard sheds his cloak
And the mountain is moved by dwarven folk
When the Black land is left abandoned
then the door of night will be opened.
War is begun by two powerful Mage
And thus will fall, the end of the age!'"

"Yes," coughed Aime, "but those are the words of Mal beer eth, the false seer. The only visions he had were from getting blind drunk."

"His methods were unusual," admitted Alatar, "but you cannot deny that some of it has come true. The wizard has shed his cloak... on many occasions. The dwarves have moved the mountain. War is begun by two powerful mage. Can you not see it is all coming true. The Dagroth is coming. We'd just like to be on the winning side."

"You're a loony," pointed out Smilog, "and your friend agrees does he?"

"Well..." Alatar thought for a moment, "why not? I think he does." The brown Wizard raised both his hands and grinned. " But now," he said, shaking his head, "Here we all end!"

"You first, old chap!" came a familiar voice, as a gold blade passed through Alatar's leg. The Wizard shrieked and fell down to his knees. The Barrow Wight crawled across the shelf to the other side, leaving a trail of blood as he went. Smilog stood up and kicked the Wizard in the face.

Alatar laughed, deeply and horribly. His face beamed brown light and his arms grasped his staff. The Wizard raised himself up and pointed his staff towards The Barrow Wight, saying, "You won't survive this time!" But at that moment, the sound of trumpets resounded around the grave yard. They were not the Wizards war horns. These were Gondorian horns.

The Wizard leaped off the shelf and ran as fast as he could back towards his army. Alli peered out in the direction the horn had come from and there she saw a group of nine riders, all dressed in purple with hoods over their faces. Their horses were jet purple with what she swore were yellow spots.

"What are they?" asked Smilog

"The farsegul," replied Alli,

"Gosh," said The Barrow Wight.

[littlemanpoet]

Elempí had ducked behind a rock. Lûgnût was huddled beneath Elempí.

"What're you doing there, Lug?"

"It's safe by you, oh Grand Anakronist."

"But I'm not-"

A forlorn yet angry howl cut Elempí off in mid-denial.

Panakeia looked at them both, hands on hips and shaking her head. "Some warriors you two make."

"I'm not a warrior, I'm a lover."

"Shut up, Lûgnût," said Elempí, "and don't mimic my voice."

"What should we do?" Lûgnût whined.

"Stay out of the way of werewolves, sword wielding madmen, angry balrogs, and all-knowing omnipotent types. Not to mention armies."

"And watch out for Alatar the Brown and his purple riders," Panakeia said, pointing.

"But what should we dooooooo?" Lûgnût pleaded with irritating vehemence.

"Oh go snarl at somebody!" Elempí yelled dismissively.

Lûgnût pouted.

"Oh knock it off, Luggy, you're hopeless when it comes to battle and so am I. I belong in an ivory tower in Umbar. Or at least a jet black one, so long as it has books and scrolls and students that think my every word is golden gossamer lore. And you," he said to Panakeia, "quit standing there like you're disappointed that I'm not some kind of hero and come here out of the line of fire!" Elempí grasped her hand and pulled her beneath the rock. At least now the ugly Luggy cowering beneath him was offset by the winsome Panakeia beside him. He smiled.

[Celuien]

There were many unpleasant places in Middle-earth: the Dead Marshes, Barad-Dur before its fall (or so Panakeia had been told), a little tavern in anakronistic Mordor where men with unruly beards and strange devices drawn upon their arms wore black leather jackets and spoke of something called a Harr-Lee.

Panakeia would have preferred any of them to her present location. She had been standing in the midst of the battle, irritated by the absurdity of her companions. To start, Alli and company (Panakeia had not seen who was with the head spy) had slipped out a back door before she even had a chance to say hello. In Ego Toyota was continually shouting his name and announcing his fencing strategies to his opponents, giving them time to create a defense against his attack. The Blue Istari had mysteriously eschewed their usual colors for drab brown. And worst of all, Elempí was hiding under a rock with Lûgnût. Undoubtedly, under a rock was the safest place to be in all the mêlée, but oh! Wouldn't Anakron have been at the head of the battle putting these purple riders and whatever else turned up in their places, all the while with his black robes fluttering magnificently in the breeze?

A volley of flaming Crêpes Suzette flew at Panakeia's head, and Elempí snatched her hand to pull her behind the rock. There was an odd smile on his face.

Panakeia sighed. This was all still terribly confusing. Anakron. Elempí. They were one, and yet so different. Anakron had, of course, been her One True Love. But he was gone forever, replaced by his grinning alter-ego.

The battle grew. Arrows began to land around the stone and an ominous brown light flashed all around.

She had to tell him. Now. Before it was too late.

"Elempí...I...I..." Words failed her.

"What's the matter?"

"I...You asked me before if I was glad to see you." She looked down at the ground. "The answer is...Oh, Elempí! How could I be anything but glad to see you? It was you I loved all the time - you were the part of Anakron I always struggled to bring out. I don't know if we'll ever make it out of here, but I wanted you to know that. I love you."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

The purple riders were at the head of the great army, Pallando the Blue and Alatar the brown were stood somewhere in the midst of things, grinning like mad-men. A horn sounded, then another, and another until the whole land was filled with the ringing noise. The army began to move; rank upon rank, battalion upon battalion, an endless sea of foes. Drums boomed and fell voices cried out. Banners were unfurled and swords were drawn. The Were creatures howled.

The Dwarf and his little band of odd folk stood atop the central hill in the graveyard. The leader of the Mordorian army that were alone here to defend them shivered in his armour. Alli gulped deeply and Aime took hold of a sword. Tollin finished putting The Barrow Wight back together and then drew his Morning Star.

"So," he sighed, "here at last is the end." Tollin breathed deep and looked out over the grave yard.

This was the fashion of the graveyard before the beginning of the battle: it was about a half mile in diameter, circular (almost) and containing many tombs. Grave stones were dotted all about the hillside and atop the great hill was a flattened slab, under which was buried some significant person who probably appeared in ATM 1. There were four gates; North, South, East and West. A fence of iron surrounded the place and spikes of steel had been forced into them.

The army of the Istari was surrounding the Graveyard; the noise of their trampling shook the bones of all who heard it. One of the Farsegul stood at each of the entrances, their purple robes looking like they had been preserved for years just for this moment. But so vast was that force that it was unlikely that they would be finished soon.

All of a sudden, there was a commotion below the hill. Smilog looked down and saw a strange figure forcing his way through the army of Mordor. It was a man who looked battle worn and swamp ridden. He fell at the feet of the Dwarf and panted like a dog who has swum the Anduin lengthwise... against the current.

"Andvari!" cried Smilog, "I thought you were dead."

"Nay, not so," he replied, raising to his knees, "but come, I have found the final clue. The greatest Gold hoard is in our grasp! Come away from this place and have gold a plenty!" The man's eyes seemed to be full of tears and desperation. He panted more and laid a hand on Smilog's shoulder, "We can escape through the tunnels and come to the hoard in a day or two. Shall we leave now?"

The Barrow Wight pointed out over the graveyard and said, "Sorry, Old bean, but can't you see we're a bit busy?"

"And can't you see that I am trying to save your friend from death?" Andvari shook his fists. But then, as if catching himself, he turned back to Smilog and smiled hopefully. "The gold is beyond count, sir."

Smilog stroked his beard and then turned his gaze all about. He looked at the forces of Mordor, gathered against all hope to fight to the death. Tollin, who, until recently, had spent his life in a labyrinth, now ready to die for the same lord who made him live there. The Barrow Wight who... Actually, he wasn't sure why he was here, but it was probably for some knobel and interesting cause.

"I'm sorry," said Smilog, "I have a thing to do here. It may be that I shall die here, this day. But this doom I take. Keep your gold, I do not want it." The eyes of Andvari widened in horror. He turned his head right and left, whimpering.

"You must come!" he cried, "they'll kill me it you-" he stopped and looked away, biting his lip.

"Who?" asked Alli, "who will kill you?"

Andavri made no answer, but stared at the ground. Eventually, he looked up and laughed a deep and haunting laugh. "My masters ordered it!" he cried, "Allatar told me, 'Take the Dwarf far away! He will get in our way. Tempt him with visions of gold and take him away and kill him.' So it was that I have followed you since the beginning. Oh, yes! But if you will not come away..." he sprang forward and landed upon Smilog. There was a yelp of pain and then Tollin tore the man away from the Dwarf. In his hand, Andvari held a knife, now stained with blood.

Smilog cried out in pain and Aime picked him up. The man laughed as the Mordorians pointed their spears at him. "Fools!" cried Andvari, "Fools! You cannot see it can you? Now there is no hope. The Dwarven army will not come for one of their kin shall not be in the battle."

"Yes they shall," cried the leader of the Mordorians, "We saw them mustering not one night ago. They will march with war against the Were creatures. They will be here before dawn."

Andvari twitched in Tollin's grasp. His plans were failing. But then, it seemed, that he laughed, or a voice from within him laughed. He raised his face and they saw that it was white and that his eyes were gone. Then, slowly, he began to chant:

The Great Hound Barked and the world turned white,
The Great Hound Sighed and the forest died,
The Wizard Blew His Horn. The Wizard Blew His Horn.
The snow snake hissed and the world turned round,
The snow snake grinned in his fine cold sin,
When The Wizard Blew His Horn. The Wizard Blew His Horn.
The horse wept blood and the earth did groan,
The tall horse reared from a lake of tears,
To seek a Champion. To seek a Champion.
The world was bleak and the Earth did fear,
The Wizard's Horn, the magic Horn.
So it screamed for a champion! It screamed for a champion!
The eagle laughed and the world grew black,
It stretched giant claws and it snatched the Law!
And the Champion stirred in his sleep! The Champion stirred in his sleep!

Andvari laughed and it seemed that a shadow grew about him.

"Look!" cried Alli, pointing to the North Gate. There stood Pallando with a great horn in his hand. He placed it to his lips and blew. The sound was like a thousand war drums and a thousand screams of terror. Andavri seemed to grow in stature, his face becoming like a hound. He was a Were wolf!

Thus began the Great Battle of the Grave Yard, of which many songs are sung. Few, correctly.
Will our heroes survive until dawn?

[littlemanpoet]

"I love you."

Panakeia had said the words Elempí had hoped to hear ... some day. Today it seemed all too soon, and he was shocked.

"Oh boo hoo hoo!" blubbered Lûgnût. "I'm in romance heaven and all my vicarious dreams have been fulfilled! Kill me now! Boo hoo hoo!"

"Get hold of yourself!" Elempí said. "Nobody's going to kill you. Go find an Orcette somewhere and have your own romance. Just wait till after the battle."

He turned to Panakeia, his little speech to the ninny having given him a wee bit of time to get a grip on his own situation. For he felt something like courage rising from deep inside. It was something he had been sure was part of Anakron, but now that he knew she loved him, he felt like he could face anything, for her, and as long as she was there to stand with him. It was downright derring do! He smiled at her.

"Never doubt my love for you, Panakeia, my Valinor, my Silmaril! Together we can face anything! Even this battle. Come! Let's join the others. All we need is swords!"

"Oh boo hoo hoo!" cried Luggy.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Andvari's form grew great and terrible. Fear went before him and dread followed his wake. All fled before before his face. All, save one. One figure, tall and broad with a heavy morning star drawn forth stood firm and would not flee before the Champion of Were Creatures.

The Barrow Wight leappad down the hill in amongst the hundreds of soldiers who rushed towards the army of Were Creatures who still poured into the grave yard. On his back, he bore Smilog the Dwarf. Smilog's eyes were bloodshot and his breath was short. He groaned and the rough ride went on. Yet, fortune had an odd plan for them, for at that moment, The Barrow Wight tripped on a stone and he fell forwards; Smilog landed on top of a large creature that was blubbering to itself.

Smilog lifted his head and cried out. Elempi quickly turned from what he was doing and stared at the Dwarf. The Barrow Wight scampered to his side and said, "I say, aren't you that Wizard chap?"

"Erm..." said Elempi, "sort of." Smilog cried out again, as his wound seemed to throw forth more blood. The Dwarf clutched at his shoulder and shrieked in pain. Elempi bit his lip and knelt beside the Dwarf. "There is some devilry in his wound," he said, "Dwarves are sturdy folk and should survive such a wound easily."

"Well?" said The Barrow Wight,

"Well what?"

"You know... do some jiggery pokery and get him on his old feet again."

"Jiggery pokery?"

"Or what ever the devil it is."

~~~

Tollin swung his morning star left and right, snarling as he did so. Andvari stood up tall in all his might; his great arms spread out and his fierce head facing the sky. The Wolf let out a mighty howl and then laughed. He reached behind his head and pulled a large sword from an unknown place (the tales say it was probably magic or something).

"You will not descend from this hill," growled Tollin, "If by my life or death I can hider thee, I shall. Get ye gone to the black abyss!" The Wolf laughed and swung his sword down at the Minotaur. Tollin leappad aside and lifted his Morning star up, spinning it on its chain. The great head of the weapon connected with the right arm of the beast. With a pain filled howl, Andvari thrust his arm into Tollin and pinned him to the ground with a single paw.

"Thou fool," grinned the Wolf, "Fool of fools! I am your doom! Die now and know that all thy trials are vain." In a fit of rage, Tollin bit the leg of Andvari, causing him to stumble backwards. Leaping in the air, the Minotaur swung his morning star down upn his adversary. But Andvari stopped his blow with his mighty sword and he let forth a deafening cry.

A tremor ran through the earth beneath them. Something was on the move. Andvari looked northwards and with his keen sight he saw the Dwarven host fast approaching. With a snarl, the were wolf struck out at Tollin, but he ducked and rolled between the feet of Andvari and then leaped upon his back.

With a cry, Tollin swung his Morning Star down upon the head of Andvari. There was a crack and a thud as the creature fell. Tollin stood atop the great beast and looked down at his fallen foe. With a cry, he leaped down the hill and passed all the forces of Mordor. He swung his great weapon, sweeping aside foes like leaves in a forest.

~~~

"What on earth is Jiggery pokery?" exclaimed Elempi. The Barrow Wight shrugged and stood up.

"You know, magic stuff." The Barrow Wight looked uneasily at the battle before them. "something that can at least get him on his feet for this dreadful thing."

Elempi looked up at Panakeia and sighed, "There is nothing I can do." he turned to the Barrow Wight, "I'm sorry." With bowed head, Elempi placed his hand on the Dwarf's shoulder and said, "I wish I could help. But all I remember is something about... oh, now it's gone again." He sighed again and muttered something under his breath.

With a suddenness that made them all leap back, Smilog sat up. The Dwarf looked at his shoulder and, though it was blood stained, there was no wound. "Looks like there is something left in you yet." said Panakeia.

"The Vala are merciful," muttered Elempi.

"Enough of this," shouted Smilog, drawing his axe, "to battle and death"

"To Death!" they all cried... Thus the winds of change began.

[the phantom]

****At Henneth Annûn****

"You may sit," said King Mardil II.

A dozen or so rough and tired looking Gondorians slumped into chairs surrounding a crude wooden table that nearly filled the small side chamber. Mardil, seated at the head, signaled to a waiting servant and soon the table was set with food and drink.

After the men had finished eating, Mardil rose and addressed them. "You have all performed your tasks admirably. When this crisis is passed and the need for secrecy is gone, your names will be known and honored throughout Gondor."

The men smiled grimly in acknowledgement. The man at the opposite end of the table rose and bowed to Mardil, and answered, "We thank you for your words, Lord. But know that you would have our service without promise of glory to come, or even the silver pieces that you provide as compensation for our efforts. The cause itself is worthy of all toil, and it is honor enough to play a part in ridding Gondor of injustice and evil."

The other men raised their glasses and let out a hearty "Aye!" and drank. Mardil nodded to the speaker. "You and the men of your house are true Gondorians, Bergil III. A happy day it was that King Elessar released Beregond from his service to be a blessing to the House of Stewards."

At that moment a messenger entered, bowed, and spoke to Mardil. "Your father sends his greetings and wishes to inform you that your wife and son are in good health. He also requests a word on the status of the plan."

"You may tell my father that all but one of my team of smugglers has returned. The one who was captured was apprehended entering Mordor, but was caught with nothing but the clothes on his back. He is loyal, and will not utter a word of our plan. And even if he does, it is too late for Roggie, the Blue Istari, or anyone else to stop us now. Operation Vaccine is nearly complete!" declared Mardil.

The messenger bowed again and exited the chamber.

"How soon will the final phase begin, Lord?" asked Bergil.

"When you and those under your command complete your final run into Mordor, I will announce a date for the... procedure," answered Mardil. "All the preparations are made. You have the final list, don't you?" Bergil nodded. "How long do you think this smuggling run will take? Six days?"

"That would be my estimate, sir," answered Bergil.

"Good," said Mardil, smiling in approval. "Go ahead and rest for the remainder of the day. My men will see that you have all the equipment and provender you need for the journey. You leave with the rising of the sun."