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Post by Elidor on Sept 26, 2003 12:11:27 GMT
Yeap. So far no luck yet. It seems that hobbits go to bed early for came across none while riding. What party poopers. *Eli lied, not flinching one bit. If the other wraiths knew that she enjoyed the Shire's scenery, she would clearly be under some metal torture*
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Post by The Witch King on Sept 26, 2003 21:57:00 GMT
*The Witch King gave a long sigh.*
What else can we do?
*He pondered for a moment, listening to the distant call of an owl in nearby woodland.*
We could tip their bins over or set fire to the sheep.
*He scratched his head feeling postively low on inspiration.*
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Khamul
Pizgal (Corporal)
Drinks: 10 Mai Tais (then impaled innkeeper on swizzle stick).Killed: 17 human men. Go us!
Posts: 51
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Post by Khamul on Sept 28, 2003 8:58:59 GMT
[Khamul takes a seat on an old tree stump and ponders.]
We could steal all of their pipeweed? Stomp on their crops? OH, we could set loose the Wolves of Isengard! They'd have a field day, what with all of this un-marked territory.
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Post by Elidor on Oct 11, 2003 14:52:12 GMT
They escaped last week. Was found in the Shire, chewing some orcs sent by the Witch King to bring it home. They got a spanking from Sauron later Just their luck that sauron decided to tour Iseguard on that day.
Why don't we just steal their hats? That's something we never done before...
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Khamul
Pizgal (Corporal)
Drinks: 10 Mai Tais (then impaled innkeeper on swizzle stick).Killed: 17 human men. Go us!
Posts: 51
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Post by Khamul on Jul 6, 2005 5:02:23 GMT
Khamul scowled and trembled with rage. How soft and foolish his fellow riders has become... To make matters worse, the Witch King was capable of out nancing Legolas, brat of Mirkwood, during the last feast. The second general had never been ashamed to call himself a Nazgul, but fate seemed to have a twisted sense of humor.
When the black clad figure heard of the wargs escaping, his shoulders and head drooped.
"Did they really run away? Even Pickles? Why...? I loved Pickles..." he mumbled. After a good mope over the loss of his beloved warg companion, Khamul raised a spiked gauntlet to the sky.
"We shall steal all of their hats, yes... but what we will do next will truly send fear into their rodent-like minds. After every last hat in Hobbiton has been nicked, we will burn every last mushroom in the Shire. No fungi shall be spared our wrath."
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Post by The Witch King on Jul 6, 2005 11:21:06 GMT
"Burn the fungi? Are you insane?"
The Witch King shot Khamul an incredulous look, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle as the cold began to aggravate his old battle wounds. Right then, he wanted nothing more then a hot mug of coco and whipped cream and the opportunity to warm his toes and toast marshmallows in front of the roaring fires of Minas Morgul. This needless and prolonged episode in the Shire was begining to sour his mood no end.
"You know as well as I the ...er..interesting and beneficial properties mushrooms have to offer. I say we harvest and transport them all back to Minas Morgul where we shall hold a giant fungi fest in celebration of our victory over the halflings!"
A slow smile crept over the Nazgul's face and he brightened considerably at the idea, and the excuse to hold yet another party.
He would dig out his psychedelic robes which never failed to raise a laugh amongst his guests, and surely such an original and innovative idea would see him firmly ensconced in the top 10 Mordor socialites list..
"Well, get to it man. There is precious time to waste..."
The Witch King leaned back in his saddle, already planning his guest list and entertainment.
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Khamul
Pizgal (Corporal)
Drinks: 10 Mai Tais (then impaled innkeeper on swizzle stick).Killed: 17 human men. Go us!
Posts: 51
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Post by Khamul on Jul 6, 2005 14:02:06 GMT
"What? Wait, I don't remember any-OH..." The Black Rider trailed off as a few interesting memories flooded back. The images weren't too clear, but he distinctly remembered hearing lots of female Elvish laughter, seeing pretty colors, and the orcs entertaining one another by waving two flaming torches through the air in swirly patterns. Ah yes, then one of the other Nazgul become convinced that small butterflies had managed to fly inside his armor. Khamul had lost conciousness right after flying into the vortex of clouds hidden inside the palantir.
"Yes, quite. Good idea, oh master of the macabre! Elidor, you heard our Lordship! Hurry on then and arrange the orcs to come get the mushrooms. I could go for a Mt. Doomberry scone right about now. M'Lord? Scones, clotted cream, and tea when we get back to Minas Morgul?" he inquired cheerfully as he sent a stream of fire into a rabbit warren. It simply didn't feel like a productive day unless small creatures were running away in fear and something was set on fire.
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