"Damn, it's cold!" chortled Giggly, doing a very odd version of the Macarena.
Day had finally come.... well, sort of... they thought it was day... it was so
cloudy that they couldn't see five feet in front of them (except for Lego-lass,
who could see perfectly in lowlight and detect secret passageways, to boot).
But they had slept a good four hours and were ready to start looking for
hobbit-prints again.
       "And don't forget that old man!" said Giggly. "I should be happier if he left
a few prints behind."
       "Why would that make you happy?" said Legolas.
       "Ummmm..... I dunno."
       "It doesn't really matter anyway. Aragon only LOOKs like he knows what he's
doing. AND it was an evil wraith-like-thingy that looks like Aruman and doesn't
LEAVE footprints. Saruman is at LEAST high-experience technocracy mage. Maybe a
thaumaturgist, actually, but I'm not so sure."
       "A thauma-whatza?"
       Aragon spoke from the ground, where he indeed looked like he knew what he was
doing. "Thaumaturgists. Freaky undead who make your blood boil. Ex-wizards.
Love to study."
       "Make your blood boil? Well, I should say!"
       Lego-lass got them back on track. "So... any IDEAS, Aragon? About the horses,
I mean, not the Thaumaturgists. Where did they GO?"
       "Wherever they went they sure sounded happy. But I can't read the riddle
without a Wits + Animal Ken die pool of at least 7, re-roll 10s or not."
Lego-lass gave a small hmph. "So we look first and guess later! How bout we
search the bodies? You and Giggly go over there--" here he motioned to a place
far off to the east "--and look for clues. I'll continue over here." One last
glare from Lego-lass and the two were off. Aragon smirked to himself. He then
turned to the woods behind him. "It's all right. You can come out now, My
Morningstar!"

       For some time, the companions---- [******* all questionable moments have been
censored for lack of plot vitality and occasional sadomasochism which may be
unpleasant for some readers. These deletions will be noted by a small sequence
of stars; *********, often combined with an interjection of a
sort ******] ----Suddenly, she saw Lego-lass and Giggly running toward them,
warned Aragon, and rushed back into the woods, but not before pointing towards
a more functional element to the plot: the next clue.
       "This is odd... twinkie wrappers in a place like this...."
       Lego-lass put in her two cents. "Well, OBVIOUSLY it was one of the hobbits.
NOBODY else would have TWINKIE wrappers."
       Giggly did the usual thing. "Heehee."
       Lego-lass continued. "And you've MISSED something. There's that freaky-looking
OLD guy again."
       "How can you tell? It's about as foggy as....."
       "I got FIVE successes."
       "Stupid elf-dice."
       Lego-lass smirked and pointed. Giggly followed her finger and exclaimed, near
laughter, "I see him! He looks like Santa Claus after a bonfire!"
       Indeed, emerging from the mists was one of the fattest creatures ever known to
be humanoid. He was as wide as an average desktop, and clad head to toe in very
dirty grey rags. He was also wearing a funny blue hat that seemed to be a
little bit small for him.
       Lego-lass drew her bow, and pointed. "Die, thaumaturgist, DIE!" She looked
like she was about to actually DO it, she pulled back and let the bow hang to
the ground. "What's wrong???...." She began to get a slightly homicidal look in
her eyes. "....why can't I....." And then suddenly she lashed about with her
knife, nearly stabbing Aragon where it might have hurt, shrieking "WHAT'S WRONG
WITH ME?!?!?!?"
       "Calm down, Mistress Elf," stated the fat guy. "I am no thaumaturgist, and I
wish to speak with you and your nearly impaled comrades." With that he jumped
way too lightly for his size onto a nearby rock, revealing a glimpse of white
cloth for about a nanosecond, and leaving the comrades bewildered. "Besides,
you couldn't kill me if you tried."
       "You speak as one that knows..... (get off me, you stupid elf) .....the
profession well.... (stupid!)....." Aragon attempted to say while Lego-lass was
at his throat. "Is that...." here he picked up the renegade elf and threw her
into Giggly, who lived up to his name and chuckled, "...so?"
       "Not well," said the fat old man, "that would be the study of many lives.
Caine leaves a long legacy. But I kill now and again. Why, I was just recently
in a glorious battle, with this really screwed-up slimy guy in Khazad-Mum, and
he almost beat me! But I gave him one good...."
       Lego-lass stopped her assault, got off of Giggly (but not without a quick
wink), and whispered in awe, "Mii-miii.. ...Mesprendeur?"
       "No shit, Sherlock."
       With that minor vulgarity he disrobed (cringe!!! cringe!!!), and jumped off
the rock, clad now in robes of white that only made him look even more obese.
The little blue hat gave place to a little white yamaka (some spell it
yarmakule, in the old elvish), and the great sword Gimidhat was sheathed at his
side.
       At last Aragon stirred. "Gandalf! What the hell happened to you? You're
all---"
       "White? Yeah, sure. It's an honor thing. Guess what? Aruman's been
excommunicated! I have the honors both of telling him and replacing him. How
about that?"
       "Yes, sir, but the---"
       "Yeah, I miss the grey one too. But that dratted Balrog went and burned it!
Luckily I was able to save my hat..."
       "Tell us about the Balrog!" called Giggly.
       "Well, we fought. it was fun. I whacked at him several dozen times with
Gimidhat, he got all slimy and whipped me. Then we took it outside, and I
finally beat him. After I diablorized the schmuck---"
       Lego-lass gasped. "You did WHAT?!"
       "Diablorized him. Took his soul. Quite a rush, really." He smirked knowingly.
       Aragon tried to ask, "Is that what made you so---"
       "Powerful? Yes, but not the whole thing. Dha-Manwë helped out quite a bit,
when I got to talk to him."
       It was Giggly's turn to gasp. "You mean, you got to meet Dha-Manwë and come
back to tell us about it?"
       "Yes. Gwaihir the Windlord picked me up after the diablorization of the Balrog
(oh, and by the way, he was very impressed that I could still---
[****** bestiality, yaoi, and vulgarity; a triple threat!*******] ---after
all these years!" The Elf, Man, and Dwerrat stood blinking while Gandalf continued.
"So he takes me to see Dha-Manwë, and I get powered up and sent back to help
you people. Plus I get the new white garb. By the by," he turned and modeled it
for the others, "does this robe make me look fat?"
       There was an extended sequence of blinking on the parts of Lego-lass and
Giggly. Aragon tried to speak up. "Well, I was beginning to wonder what was
making you so---"
       "Luminescent?"
       "Ummm, no....more like---"
       "Patronizing? Commanding?"
       Aragon gave an exasperated sigh and a sweatdrop, and collapsed to the ground
in frustration. With his head to his knees, he whined, "What of the Hobbits?"
       "Two go by the river, two go by the lampposts. You know which are which, and
they're all alive, so far."
       "And they're safe?"
       "More or less. Right now it's giving you these messages that I'm concerned
about, and packing you off to Edoras."
       A small thud was heard in the trees nearby, and a clump of black leather was
seen on the floor. Gandalf sauntered over to it and gave it a quick slap across
the less-covered end.
       A disheveled Arwen arose with a sheepish look on her face. "Ummm....hi,
guys!....errr..."
       Gandalf got the famous insanely patronizing look upon his face. "Do you know
what I do to eavesdroppers, Princess?"
       "If it's as famous as what you do to eagles, I'm looking forward to it."
       Dark glare from Aragon. A VERY dark glare, indeed.
       "No, actually, although that might become an option...."
       Even darker glare from Aragon, accompanied by a hand on the hilt of a famous
reforged sword. "You wouldn't dare."
       "Get that hand off your sword, son of Arathon, or I will personally see that
the one I'm here to fight for is cut off. And that will be of much
disappointment to Morningstar here, won't it?"
       Aragon growled slightly, but moved his hand.
       "Much better. Now where was I? oh yes, what I do to eavesdroppers. YOU,
princess, will be traveling with us..."
       Arwen breathed a small rapturous "Yes!".
       "...but will not be permitted to engage in any combat or physical action. That
includes sex."
       Aragon and Arwen's jaws dropped a good 3 feet. Lego-lass and Giggly snickered.
Gandalf smiled.
       "Consider the fun you had this morning to be the last you will get for the
rest of the voyage." More snickering from Lego-lass. "You also will not be
allowed to fight, or I will personally blow you to the Lonely Isle, or worse,
[****** just......disgusting ******], and spoil your children to hell. And
if you, Mr. Heir of Elendil, try to stop me, you can kiss the quest, the crown,
and your family jewels good-bye!"
       Giggly was starting to roll on the floor.
       Aragon muttered under his breath, "At least I can see mine, fatty." Gandalf
didn't hear. Instead, he continued with his speech.
       "I was given messages to you three from Galadriel. Aragon first;

               Where now are those ghuls of yours, El Lesser, El Lesser?
               Why do thy valderie-bound wander afar?
               Near are the days of a black, sunless sky,
               As a moon shines with blood and we're all gonna die.
               But much darker still is the road you must take;
               Thank god that your lineage isn't all fake!

Now I was HOPING to bear better news, but I guess that it's not gonna happen,
so I go to Lego-lass now;

               Lego-lass Greenbutt, longest in limb;
               You're out of your mind if you think about him!
               The Dwerrow is mine, and if you even try
               I will hunt your ass down 'til you're ready to die!

I thought that one was particularly interesting...."
       Lego-lass was turning redder than the eye of Sauron. Whether it was with rage
or embarrassment, nobody could tell. But Giggly was laughing as if there were
Nitrous oxide being spoon fed to her personally by a half-orc in a tutu. Arwen
and Aragon, meanwhile, were wondering whether of not their beloved Grandma had
really written that...
       Gandalf continued. "There was also one for you, Laughing Boy, but I don't plan
to say it publicly...." he went over to a much more sobered Giggly and
whispered in his ear for a good 15 minutes, as Lego-lass whetted her knife and
Aragon and Arwen undressed each other with their eyes. When the whispering was
done, Giggly was at least twice as red as Lego-lass had been, and yelling
through his laughter, "How the [insert potent dwarven swear word here] did you
remember all that?!"
       "It's an old routine."
       "[potent dwarven swear word]!!!!"
       "Well, a phrase like [****** odd. Very very odd. ******] isn't exactly
hard to forget, especially after it's been done so many times." Silence from all but
Giggly. 
       Arwen's jaw dropped. "Grandma is one sick cookie."
       "....Right." Gandalf whistled and then spoke to the others. "Well, it's time
to go."
       Giggly chortled. "But.... I can't exactly... walk.....!"
       The results of the whistle were observed as the footsteps of horses were heard
nearby.
       "There is more than one horse coming."
       "You lost two, I brought one, and a third is tagging along for our little
renegado."
       The horses ran up to Gandalf, with the exception of one of the new ones, who
just lolled in the grass. That one seemed to be Gandalf's, because the instant
he lay down, the fat Wizard was shouting at it. 
       "Come on, Slimshadë, please stand up! Please stand up! Stupid damn horse!
Slimshadë, please! Stand up!!! You can be such a good horse, when you put your
mind to it! Come ON, Slimshadë!!!"
       Aragon piped in. "Ummm, where did he take our horses?"       
       "Just to get a wider view of the area."
       "Right.... wider....."
       "What was that, young man?"
       "I said right, wider.... er, I mean White Rider... no... nevermind. What is
that sound in the distance?" He pointed toward Medusald, the hall of the gilded
snake, far to the north, and there was a faint trace of smoke as well.
       "Battle and war! Ride on, Slimshadë!" And with that he jumped upon the horse
(thankfully not squishing it) and rode into the distance, the others not far
behind.

This chapter of this epic work is presented through the courtesy of Mithrigil <erk1030@aol.com>. Copyright © 2000 by the author. All rights reserved. Some variance between this e-text and the original printed material by Professor Tolkien is inevitable. Using this as an electronic resource for scholarly or research purposes may lead to a certain degree of academic embarassment. All agree that the printed version of the text, available from respectable publishers such as Houghton Mifflin and Ballantine Books, is to be preferred, not least of all because censorship of the text would would certainly not take place.