Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's works, nor do I own the “PPC“. This is just my own little branch of it. “PPC“ was founded by the wonderful Jay and Acacia! —bowbow— These honorable agents are now retired, as far as I know, but I admire them nonetheless! I do happen to own the Fireblade in the story. She's crazier and rather scarier than I am, actually. I also own my partner, since for now I'm having more fun writing on my own. Though if I find someone who would be a good partner for me, I may retire my first one. And I do not own the mention of Rouroni Kenshin. Or Spiderman. Or Graham Chapman, who, scarily enough, died the day I was born. Don't own Aragog either. This is not written for Mary-Sue writers' benefit. It is written for fun. Humor. Jokes. Parody. Get it now? Good job! Oh, yes, and to keep the Lord of the Rings canon in shape.
Anyway…my inaugural chapter of "Protectors of the Plot Continuum”! Meet my mini-balrog, Arngorn, who shall pop up in the story from time to time, and my partner…well, you shall meet my partner in the story.
I do not own “OFUM“—that belongs to Miss Cam, and any mentions I make of GrammarBootCamp or mini-balrogs, for that matter, originate from her.
Neither do I own any mentions of Discworld. That belongs to Terry Pratchett.
I think that covers most of it…oh, yes, this story is on fanfiction.net called "Legolas and the Mysterious Creature." I had intended to start out with "I Will be Waiting For your Return", but I decided to save that one for a while. Muahaha.
Agent Fireblade, a shiny new member of the Department of Mary Sues, and therefore not very insane yet, wandered through the halls of HQ, looking for her office.
[BEEEEEEEEP!!!!] came a sound from one of the doors, followed by a bang and some swearing. Fireblade listened for a moment, taking a few mental notes, before walking on; sure she was in the right section.
Or, rather sure.
A bit sure, really. Reasonably sure, to be sure.
"This would be so much easier if the doors were marked," she said at last, glancing down at Arngorn, who nodded in hopes of more bacon. Fireblade tossed him a slice, which the mini caught deftly, and continued walking.
At last, she stopped and stared at a door that was apparently no different from the others. "I think this is it," she said to Arngorn, who roared hopefully. Fireblade opened the door and entered the room.
Sure enough, her boxes were there, and the room had been set up to her request. Upstairs had decided that if they humored their agents a bit, they might stay sane longer…though Fireblade had still had to buy all the supplies she wanted on her own.
"At least the bookshelves are here, and the computer's on the low table I asked for," said Fireblade, letting Arngorn bound into the room and hop up to the top of one of the knee-high bookshelves. Fireblade opened a box and started pulling out the contents.
Within record time—Fireblade had always been a fast, if disorganized, unpacker—the room's floor was strewn with pillows and beanbag chairs. Fireblade let Arngorn burn the cardboard boxes as she set up his fireproof cushion on the top of a corner bookshelf.
The shelves soon had contents—fantasy novels, with The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy set up neatly on the tops of the bookshelves for easy grabbing if an exorcism happened to be needed. Not usual by any means in the Mary-Sue Department, but still…
Fireblade looked at the computer and said, "Don't even think about it until my partner's here."
The computer somehow contrived to look innocent. Fireblade shook her head and collapsed into a beanbag with The Silmarillion, flipping to the tale of Beren and Lúthien.
A knock on the door brought her attention back to her surroundings, and Fireblade shouted, "Come in!" to the knocker.
Whoever it was opened the door, and Fireblade's partner stepped in. Fireblade stared at him. He stared at her. Fireblade's partner stepped in. Fireblade stared at him. He stared at her.
Both of them whacked their foreheads as the small time-distortion passed through the room. "Probably escaped through an agent's portal," said Fireblade as the time-distortion meandered towards Arngorn.
The mini-balrog snapped at the distortion. It burst into flames. The mini-balrog snapped at the distortion. It burst into flames. And with that last feeble attempt at a repetition of time, the swirl was eaten, presumably to replicate some bacon in the mini's stomach.
"That was surreal," remarked Fireblade, before looking back at her new partner. "Sorry." She stood and held out a hand. "I'm Fireblade, you may call me Blade but everyone else who does dies, so new I don't have the shiny rubbed off, yada yada, and that's Arngorn over there. Hope you don't mind the beanbags."
The stranger shook her hand, smiling. "I'm Keitaro. Taro for short. Once worked in anime, Rouroni Kenshin to be specific. I got transferred after a Lord of the Rings agent got into a bit of trouble and I was the only one off-duty and aware of the incident to rescue her. They liked how I handled myself, I suppose. And I like beanbags. Oh, yes, and I've been working solo for some time. My partner went mad after Zanza had one character rupture too many."
"Lust-object?" said Fireblade. "Sorry, but we're supposed to know so we can stop the other being irrational. And if we have the same one, we have to be separated, though you lusting after my lust-object is unlikely unless you happen to be gay." Fireblade shut up after the round of babbling to wait for an answer.
Keitaro thought for a moment and at last said, "Lúthien Tinuviel." A slightly dreamy look passed over his face. "As Beren looked into her eyes within the shadows of her hair, the trembling starlight of the skies—"
Fireblade gently clapped a hand over Taro's mouth. "Very well, then," she said, "Mine's Thranduil."
Taro thought for a moment and said, "Ah. Legolas's father." He grabbed Fireblade's wrist and took her hand from his mouth.
Fireblade nodded, smiling a bit dreamily.
[BEEEEEEEEP!!!!] went the computer, and both agents glared at it. Arngorn shifted a bit uncomfortably—the time-distortion in his stomach was replicating the bacon a bit too quickly for his taste. Fireblade plopped down onto the cushions, sprawling to look at the computer. "Eleven, twelve, twenty-one, twenty-five—"
"What?" said Taro, confused.
"Sorry," said Fireblade, not looking away, "Female, astonishingly beautiful, not human or Elf, as far as I can tell, and has some sort of extraordinary Sue-powers. That's all I've gathered from the first few paragraphs…I have a key I use."
"Oh," replied Taro, dropping to lie beside Fireblade, grabbing the mouse to read the fic from the beginning. "Ew. Silver blood. I'm sorry, but silver blood should not come from anything but Harry Potter unicorns, and even then it's gross."
"Disguise?" said Fireblade, finding the setter.
"Are we in Mirkwood?" said Taro, after a moment. Fireblade nodded.
"Hmm. Spiders?" continued Taro. Fireblade smiled scarily.
Taro poked the buttons as Fireblade puttered around, picking up The Silmarillion and The Hobbit, a deck of cards, and some long, sharp knives. Her smile was just slightly disturbing…
Taro shook it off and went to find his own pack, adding the Character Analysis Devices—and a spare—and the Portal Generator, fondly called the "portal thingy."
"Want to come, Arngorn?" said Fireblade, stopping to look at the mini. Arngorn shook his head unhappily. Fireblade's face immediately took on a look of concern. "Is oo getting a tummyache?" she said, peering closely at the mini. Arngorn didn't look quite normal…
"Does the distortion not agwee wif widdle Arngorn's tummy?" Fireblade cooed, in a way Taro found slightly frightening. Arngorn sighed heavily. "Mommy won't be gone long," said Fireblade, comfortingly, "Go to sleep and we'll see the doctor when we get back if you're not better, all right, sweetie?"
In answer, the mini-balrog curled up into a ball and shut its eyes. Fireblade nodded and stood, pausing to look at Taro. "Got the CAD?" she said.
"Lessgo," the partners said, in unison. There was a moment of confusion when both tried to enter the portal at the same time and stuck. "Ladies first," said Taro, backing up. Fireblade gave him a Look and jumped through.
Taro followed, and the portal snapped shut. He looked at himself…with all eight of his eyes.
"Thissss issss sssso cool!" cried the other spider—the one Taro assumed to be Fireblade. "Excccept for the hisssssing the 'essssessss' thing."
Taro tried to take a step, but couldn't work out which legs to move first. Fireblade looked at him—or he thought she did—and said, "It takesssss a while to get the hang of thissss. But thissss isssss ssssso cool!"
She scampered forward, managing to get a few feet before falling over. The spider rolled and came to her feet…well, ends of her legs, anyway, without mishap. Her pack was strapped to her front section, and didn't seem to hamper her movement.
Fireblade scuttled around Taro in a spider-parody of a dance. "You can't mo-ove!" she taunted, as Taro tried again. "Whee!"
The female agent looked at a tree and climbed up with little trouble as Taro at last figured out his legs. He followed and shouted—well, hissed—"Legolassss sssshould be up ahead! Not too far—"
Fireblade leapt from a branch, landing on another tree, which shook with the impact. "I feel like Sssssspiderman!" she hissed joyfully, bounding to another tree.
She froze when she saw a white light. "Here we are," she said, dropping a few feet—using her web. "Hey, that wasss fun!" she added, bending herself double to look at her web. "I think I'll dangle."
Taro sighed—well, as much as a spider can sigh.
Fireblade read the Words and winced. "Firssst charge, bad grammar," she hissed quietly, "And abussse of the comma."
Legolas came riding a horse beneath them, not bothering to pay attention to the fact that a: it was night, and not a good time to be riding alone in Mirkwood, and b: that he was alone in Mirkwood, where the spiders were.
Namely, right above him—one dangling from a piece of web, the other perched on a branch.
The Elf shot the light—"Pointsss for that," said Taro, "Ssshoot firssst, asssk quessstionssss later. Too bad it wassssn't fatal. The orcssss-from-nowhere ssssshould be here sssoon—"
And suddenly, orcs were throwing rocks at Legolas, and shooting at him. Since the Words did not specify what was being shot, however, Fireblade and Taro's bemused sixteen eyes counted four bullets, six arrows, a piece of old celery, and a large ruby, which went way off the mark and hit Fireblade in the leg. She caught it reflexively and looked it over. "That wasss interesssting," she remarked, crawling up her web to hand it to Taro, who put it in her pack. Fireblade lowered herself back down to watch. "Here'sss the part where they ssstart dropping like 'filessss'," she said, as Legolas shot back.
Sure enough, as the orcs were hit, they fell to the ground as manila folders with papers in them stuck through with arrows. "Amussssing," said Taro, "Yet ssssomehow…anticlimactic."
Legolas realized he was shot in the arm. Apparently not noticing the piece of old celery, or possibly thinking it was an arrow, he picked up the Sue and looked at her.
Fireblade and Taro snickered—rather ominous sounds, coming from spiders—as the Sue was revealed to have "long golden hair, gold as the rays of the sun—" they cast a brilliant light, creating an instant target should any more orcs—or spider assassins—remained in the woods. The Sue was then revealed to have silver blood—Taro's right, it is gross, thought Fireblade—eyes the "color of the ocean on a stormy day—"
"Princcccesss bride ripoff," muttered Fireblade, as Taro refrained from comment.
Legolas remounted his horse, and another arrow whizzed past him. Both assassins watched with amusement as the Sue's hair acted as a shield for the Elf, twisting until the blinding locks were shield-shaped and looked rather metallic.
They rode, and unbeknownst to either, two spiders followed them. One of them seemed rather taken by using web to swing from tree to tree and jumping a lot—the other was content with crawling from branch to branch, occasionally jumping if it was too far to step.
"Fireblade, will you pleassssse sssstop imitating Sssssspiderman?" said Taro, finally. "It'sss embarrassssing to the racccce of sssspiderssss."
Fireblade gleefully ignored the senior agent, pausing for a moment only to wave her legs at him vaguely, before resuming leaping from branch to branch and muttering phrases that sounded suspiciously like, "Take that, Goblin!" "Ssso long, Sssinissster Ssssixxx," and, "Wheeeeee!"
Taro rolled his eyes—or tried to—and continued to follow her.
A palace suddenly loomed ahead of them, and Fireblade shrieked as she misjudged her jump and barreled into the wall. She fell to the ground as Legolas's horse galloped through the gates—luckily not noticing her, and there were no guards on the wall—and rolled to her feet shakily.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," she muttered, standing slowly and shakily—it was a good thing that eight legs gave you good balance, really.
Taro lowered himself with some web and looked at his partner. "Ready to go?" he suggested, impudently.
Fireblade hissed something uncomplimentary and turned to the wall. She shook a claw at it and jumped onto it, beginning to climb.
Taro followed, enjoying the way the spider body moved, if in a rather abstract way. It was extremely cool how he could cheerfully climb a sheer wall, for instance. And very useful…
Fireblade recovered from her fall quickly enough when they entered the palace—"It makessss my eyesss hurt," she complained as she squeezed through a door, "Really, issss it sssso hard to underssstand Mirkwood casssstle—fortresssss—whatever they call it—issss underground? It issssn't an effing palaccce."
Taro followed her and paused. "Let'sss go ccceiling," he said, eyeing the fairly narrow hallways.
"Yay," muttered Fireblade, and gave the lie to her voice by scampering up the wall.
It was really rather frightening to see a spider scampering…
Taro took the lead, following Legolas, the Sue, several Random Elves, and Thranduil down the halls. "Try not to drool over Thranduil much," he hissed back to Fireblade, turning to look at her—the spider nodded, a rather strange gesture, but Fireblade already looked dreamy. "Erm…if you can drool..." Taro sighed at the inattention of his partner and returned to tracking them.
They hung from the ceiling as Legolas and his father talked to each other. "Charge two, being a raccce not found in Arda," said Fireblade, glaring at the Sue with all eight eyes.
The Sue awoke and blinked up at the Elves. Both assassins scuttled into the farthest, darkest corners of the ceiling, but the Sue seemed absorbed in being afraid of Legolas.
"Legolas, kela!" said Thranduil, and that's when it happened."GO AWAY!" boomed a voice, translating the Elvish, nearly making the spiders fall from the ceiling.
They looked from the Sue to the ceiling to each other. At last, Fireblade said, timorously, "Wasss it my imagination…or doessss the transssslator sound like Graham Chapman playing the voiccce of God?"
Taro blinked in astonishment. "Well…yesss," he hissed back, careful not to let the Sue hear him.
They had just enough time to brace themselves before the next translation came…and the next…
"What the hell?" said Taro, as Legolas came back in. "Thranduil tellssss him to leave, then makessss him carry her to another room?"
"Charge three: making Thranduil an idiot and transssslating in the middle of sssssentenccccessss," said Fireblade, twitching. Taro laid a foreleg on her foreleg and patted it awkwardly. "Thisss one'ssss mine," said Fireblade, glaring down at the Sue.
Taro went back to his corner as Legolas picked up the Sue. They followed as Legolas put her in a bed before leaving through the window to sit—well, stand—in a garden. The last translation made both of them wince, before the chapter ended.
There was a long silence. "Portal?" said Fireblade, at last.
"Get it out of my pack," said Taro, bending the many joints in his legs to crouch on the ground. Fireblade stood on her back four legs as two braced against Taro and two fumbled with his pack. "Damn thing," she muttered, "Really not dessssigned for eight legsss."
At last, she managed to open the pack and pull out the Portal Generator.
Taking it in one leg while two others closed the pack, Fireblade handed it to Taro. "Ussseful thingsss, eight legsss," she hissed happily, apparently forgetting that she had been complaining about them a few seconds earlier, and dropping back to the ground.
Taro painstakingly poked a button or two, and the portal opened. Fireblade scampered through first, without waiting.
Taro waited. He didn't have to wait long.
"AAAARRRRGH!" came Fireblade's enraged scream from the other side of the portal. First assignment and I already know her… thought Taro, picking up the portal thingy and stepping through.
It winked shut behind him.
"What were you ssscreaming about, pray?" said Taro, sidling—and nothing could sidle like a spider—up to Fireblade. He paused to look at her.
The other spider was twitching. Taro blinked in alarm and waved a foreleg in front of her eyes. Fireblade closed several sets of eyes and said, in a low, ominous, hiss, "Sssshe called him Greenleaf. It'ssss not hisss effing name, but ssshe isss sssaying it isss."
Taro stared at his rather incoherent partner. Valar, let the next one be a tenth walker, he thought, Keep her far, far away from Thranduil…
"Charge…four, issss it? Four. Calling Legolasss 'Legolasss Greenleaf,'" muttered Fireblade, making a mental note.
Taro listened to their conversation, tilting his body a bit by bending the legs of one side. He did things like this—though normally it was only his head he tilted—when he was listening, and he heard with great amusement…
"Ssshe sssays ssshe is a 'Sssivvyn.' And her name isss 'Aroura'."
Fireblade, if she had had the anatomy to do so, would have snorted. She settled for clicking her pincers—Very Aragog, thought Taro, But I won't tell her that.
Unaware of his thinking, Fireblade said, "And ssshe sssaysss 'okay'. Onto the charge lissst that goesss."
"Calling Elves 'Elvin'…making Legolasss a painter…Greenleaf again…can we kill her before the dinner, pleassse?" said Fireblade, interrupting herself.
"Very well, then," said Taro, stretching, "Cardsss? I have a pack sssomewhere."
Fireblade reared up and began to dig through Taro's pack again. "We forgot to analyze them," she pointed out as her foreleg brushed the CADs. Taro sighed. "Get it out and do Thranduil and Legolasss. Then we'll play cardsss. On sssecond thought," said Taro, quickly, "I'll do Thranduil."
Fireblade sighed and took out one of the Devices. "Could you get a picture of Thranduil for me, then?" she said, pleadingly, closing Taro's pack.
"Fine," sighed Taro, as Fireblade dropped, and reared to root through his partner's pack.
They split. Thranduil was easy to find—he was waiting for his next entrance in the dining hall, his eyes strangely blank. Crap, realized Taro, Forgot the neuralyser…ah well, he'll be fine when canon jolts back.
Waving the Canon Analysis Device at Thranduil, Taro waited…
[Thranduil. Male. Elf. Canon. 56% Out Of Character,] read the screen.
"Not that bad," Taro muttered to himself, "At least his character hasn't ruptured yet…"
Raising the camera in one of his other legs, he snapped a picture of the Elf.
Fireblade was having rather more of a problem. Legolas was near Aroura nearly the whole story, and since Aroura could see her…well, the consequences wouldn't be good if the Device went off too loudly.
At long last, Aroura shoved Legolas out of her room. What kind of name is 'Aroura' anyway? It sounds like Sleeping Beauty gone…I dunno…French or something, thought Fireblade as she waved the device.
[Legolas. Male. Elf. Canon. 68.57% OOC, CHARACTER RUPTURE!] flashed the device, along with long, shrill beeps.
Fireblade bailed before the Sue heard her and managed to turn the device down by waving it at a Random Elf, who wasn't enough of a character to be out of character. The volume control really wasn't designed for claws.
The assassins met in the garden again and stuffed the Character Analysis Devices and camera into their respective packs. A deck of cards was produced, figuring out how to hold the cards in claws duly commenced, and soon a vigorous game of Egyptian Rats was underway.
To anyone who would be able to see them, it would have been a most strange sight—two spiders in a garden, with packs on their backs, holding cards in their hands and arguing about whose leg out of the four or so piled on the cards between them was actually farthest underneath.
At last, the stomach-twisting disorientation that indicated a chapter switch, and the dinner. The cards were put away, and the spiders paused to read the Words.
"Before or after ssshe drinks the whine?" sniggered Taro. Fireblade cast her partner an odd look and read the Words. "Whine?" she said, starting to snigger herself. "After. I have to ssssee thisss."
"We're early," observed Taro, continuing to read the Words. "About half an hour."
"Raccce you around the palaccce?" suggested Fireblade. "If you bump into anyone, you're disssqualified."
"You're on," replied Taro, as they scuttled to the ceiling again.
"Go!" shouted Fireblade, and the race was on. Through the halls, down to the dungeons—where a picture or two was snapped—on the floor through the kitchens, where both of them hit servants and were disqualified and quickly un-disqualified, through the painting hall where Aroura had been looking at Legolas's paintings, and up the towers. "Dead end," said Taro, stopping on the roof. Fireblade looked down speculatively.
Crawling to the highest part of the tower, Fireblade began to lower herself to the ground on spider-silk, but crawled back up when she was halfway down, an idea occurring to her. "What are you doing?" called Taro down to his partner as she doubled up the silk.
Fireblade ignored him and made sure her silk was well-attached to the tower....
"WHEE!" she shouted, leaping from the top, flinging herself out and down. She came to the end of her silk and bounced back, not spinning web anymore, rocketing upwards, then down…
"Bungee jumping?" said Taro, incredulously. But Fireblade did look like she was having fun…
He followed, spinning out his silk as he fell. He stopped and held, and his momentum bounced him back…
And a wild ride was had by all. All meaning the two assassins, that is, who at last found themselves dangling by strands of silk high above the grounds. Taro looked around himself and said, at last, "I want thisss ssstuff. It'sss ssstrong, it'sss light, and it'sss awesssome bungee cord!"
"Yup," said Fireblade, lowering herself to the ground. "I want sssome too…we ssstill have about ssseven minutesss to dinner."The spiders eyed each other speculatively.
And soon, on the ground, a strange sight—as strange as the spiders playing cards, even—was to be beheld as one spider held out two forelegs and the other spun silk around them. At last, Taro said, "That'sss enough for one coil…"
Fireblade clipped the silk and prodded the coil with a foreleg. "We should ssseriousssly recommend thisss to Bad Sslassh," she hissed, "Thisss isss better than the gaffer tape they ussse. Or at leassst cooler-looking."
Taro didn't comment, merely fixed the coil to Fireblade's pack and prepared his own spinneret. "My turn."
Soon, the assassins had nine or so coils of genuine Mirkwood spider-silk, and it was time for dinner.
The spiders hung out on the ceiling as the Elves ate, and Thranduil and Legolas talked to the Sue. The assassins watched in anticipation as the Sue reached for the "whine"…
"Everyone else has one! Kendall's mom lets her! I wanna go home!" said the liquid in the glass, whining in shriller and shriller voice tones as Aroura raised the glass to her lips.
The complaints continued whining all the way down, and it was quite a sight to see Aroura sitting there with shrill voices speaking in her stomach. The spiders hissed and clicked their pincers—their versions of laughing.
At last, Aroura left the table and went into the hall. "All right…" said Taro, as Fireblade positioned herself, "Fire."
The Mary Sue tripped and began to fall, but a lasso of spider-silk surrounded her and yanked her upwards. Legolas came out of the hall in search of her and couldn't see her—or hear her, either, as Taro and Fireblade had bound her and gagged her with their silk—and stood looking confused. "Charge her," said Fireblade, clamping three legs around the Sue as the other five held her to the ceiling. "Oh, crap—" The Sue had wriggled out of the grip and begun to fall, but Fireblade caught her before she had gone far and, dangling from another piece of the handy dandy spiderweb, immobilized her with all eight legs.
"You are charged with being a Mary-Sssue," recited Taro, "Creating a raccce that doesss not exissst, causssing Legolasss to be ssshot with a pieccce of cccelery, ssstruggling against PPC agentsss, having bad grammar, making orcsss drop like 'filesss', calling Elvesss 'Elvin'—it's Elven, with an e—sssaying 'okay', giving Mirkwood a palaccce, calling Legolasss 'Legolasss Greenleaf'—it's a transsslation of a name, Sssue, and nothing more—ripping off the Princccessss Bride, making Thranduil act like an idiot, making Legolass act like an idiot, transsslating Elvisssh in the middle of sssentencccesss, and generally pisssssing usss off. Oh, yesss, and drinking 'whine'."
"Any lassst wordsss?" said Fireblade, taking the spider-silk from the Sue's mouth.
"You can kill me, but I shall return for my true love—" bleated the Sue, before Fireblade sighed and corked her again. "Ssstrangle or feed her to Mirkwood sspidersss?" she said to Taro.
"Mirkwood sspidersss would be admirable," said Taro.
"Lead on," said Fireblade, delivering a blow to the Sue's head and knocking her unconscious. "Ew. Ssssue blood." She shook a bit of silver from her foreleg. "Looksss like mercury without the charm."
Thanks to a nearby plothole, the assassins soon found themselves near the real Mirkwood spiders. Fireblade dumped the Sue on the ground and helped Taro spin a rough web between some trees, chucking the Sue into the middle of it.
An interested spider meandered over and prodded her with a foreleg. The assassins backed out of the way as the Sue yelped. The spider's pincers clicked as he climbed onto the web…
And the Sue was no more.
Content in a job well done, and in the fact that they now had nine coils of Mirkwood spider-silk, the agents portaled back to their office.
"That was fun," said Fireblade, as she took her pack off and divested it of the silk that hung on it. Taro closed the portal and added his own coils to the pile. "Fun indeed," he said, taking the silk and hanging it on a hook in the weapon-cupboard. "How's Arngorn?"
Fireblade turned. The mini was sleeping peacefully. "Looks like he finally managed to burn the distortion into oblivion," she said, tossing her pack to the side and collapsing onto a beanbag. "I'm going to nap."
The Narrative Laws of Comedy kicked in…
[BEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!] went the computer.
Anyone passing outside the hall would have heard two identical groans and the roar of a startled mini-balrog…
That was very, very fun! PPCing is muchly entertaining. This Sue wasn't as bad as most, but she was incredibly irritating, if nothing else!
Until next time!
~Fireblade and Keitaro. Oh yeah, and Arngorn too.