Thief Hunt::Series V

[Lady of Shadow]

"Who would want to steal Ketchup the Fell Beast?' And how?" Naelia thought to herself when she first heard the rumors.

Now all she had to do was find them and track down their hiding place. Deciding to start in her home base of Barad-dur, the minioness' mind drifted off to that of her nuisance Elven half-sister (like it always did when she witnessed somebody heading off to the Pits, since she still secretly feared someone would try to set Lathana free. just to get back at her for whatever reason) as she began to search for clues as to the thief's identity and why they would want to try to make off with a creature that was reserved for the Nazgul, in case one of the others came to an unfortunate end.

Out of the corner of her eye, Naelia could have sworn she saw the she Elf Fuin, seemingly up to no good. "How did that she Elf get in here?" the minioness thought to herself, still wanting to get revenge on her for setting a trap upon her when she herself seemed to become immune for working her way up the thief hunt chain, as it were. "Let's see you try that again, when you're found guilty of making off with one of the Nazgul's favorite steeds!" Naelia sneered, as she continued to follow the she Elf.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Baphởmet]

[The first part of this missive is missing. Scorch marks, blood stains, and ink blottings litter the rest of the parchment. It appears to be a letter from Fleeg Phlegmson to one Bubosha. The hand writing is terrible, with words misspelled, smooshed together, crossed out, rewritten, and crossed out again. Below is the best approximation of the letter]

So I had him. I had the Toad by the throat. Do toads have throats? Anyway, not important. The point is, I had him. I’m glad I had that gunpowder. I would have never been able to capture him without it. What luck eh? The next time we see each other I’ll enact what I did so you can see exactly how heroic and badass I looked. Beyond the point. Sorry, I get sidetracked sometimes. Okay. I had the Toad and I was taking him to The Morannon where I was gonna toss him into Ketchup, the Fell Beast’s mouth and the world would suddenly become a better place. We really just need to get rid of all the lawyers, right? I’m sure you agree, given where you work and all. Just toss into the volcano and wipes our hands.

Sorry. So I was going to toss the Toad in, but Ketchup was missing! What the hell? He’s never out and about. He just sort of… I have no idea. I don’t know what Fell Beasts do in their free time. Point is, he was missing. I was just sitting there with a licked toad in my hand and, wait a second. It just occurred to me that maybe licking the Toad made me hallucinate. Was Ketchup there the whole time? Oh Great Fleeg in the Sky that would be embarrassing.

Anyway. I needed a way to get rid of the Toad and complete my revenge. So there I was, alone, against a sea of enemies. Where could I turn? I, the lone goblin. There was no one I could trust, no one I could turn to for aid. But then it occurred to me. Blinky! Blinky the Lava Snake.

I have a question about lava snakes. Are they made of lava? Or do they just live near lava? Are they immune? I should ask Blinky.

Anyway. I found the old lava snake, hanging out The Georges! Can you believe it? Crazy right? What are they up to?

Sorry, got to go. The Georges are getting antsy and they keep looking at me like they’re going to eat me.

Fleeg

[Moriel]

The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Baphởmet]

So, there I was, facing down a horde of The Georges with nothing but my wits and my charm to keep me alive. I’d offended them, how I wasn’t sure, but they were hissing mad and they were all looking at me. Suddenly I forgot my mission to destroy the Toad of Consistency; the only thought I had was to escape. I had too much to live for, too much yet to accomplish. I wasn’t about to be taken down by some giant, admittedly terrifying weasels. No ma’am! So what did I do? Well, to answer that, I need to ask you a question. What Would Fleeg Do? I knew what Fleeg would do because, well obviously I’m Fleeg, but if you weren’t Fleeg, which you aren’t, what would you do? Would you try and fight your way through? Grovel and beg? Distract them with a steak the size of a goblin? If you’re answer was steak, then you’d probably have handled it better than I would. I’m not to proud to say I groveled and begged. I’m alive, right? I told them all about my plan and my motivation for getting the Toad (who had escaped in the meantime). It seemed to placate them. I owed them a huge favor, but I managed to get out of that situation with my face intact. It seems they too had had a run in with the infamous Toad and were willing to let my go on my way to enact righteous vengeance. The Toad had many enemies it would seem; he was, as they say, Consistent. Once free of the Georges (I’ll tell you the favor I owe them here in a minute) I began to look for Blinky, the snake I was meaning to see. It wasn’t actually him that was hanging with the Georges like I believed at first, it was Georgie. I guess that makes sense in some weird way. I had no idea where to look though. I had sent him a letter once through the post office, but I had no idea what the address was or how it got delivered. I was too scared to visit the pub, every time I go there it seems there’s a portal to Mt Doom that kills someone, and I couldn’t let myself get killed, not now with vengeance on the line. I was not going to let the Toad get away with all his dastardly plans! No. I did the next best thing though. Through my contacts in the underworld, I was able to pass a message through to him at Cirith Ungol. What he was doing there I could only guess, and I’d rather not speculate on what sort of criminal activity goes on up there. Scary place that, it’s were spiders and scholars hang out. What’s more terrifying than that? He said he’d meet me, told me a location (I’m not gonna say where yet just in case someone is listening in), and told me to be there in three hours. Ketchup, the Fell Beast is as good as found and fed with the two of us on the case.

[Moriel]

The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

@Call of Bearthulhu, within Cirith Ungol you have stumbled upon the Heart of Orodruin! You immediately pass through a portal into the very heart of Mount Doom where you suffer a fiery death, and cannot play for the remainder of this round (until the thief has been found and we start again)! You are free however to describe your torment or/and death and haunting of other players.

[Baphởmet]

fredegar. fredegar, goddammit, I fredegar knew it was going to happen! fredegar shire ass balls baggins fredegar Curufinwë! I… well I suppose you can infer, gentle readers, that I found the heart of the volcano. Of course I did! I’m mother fredegar Fleeg! I have the worst flea-bitten ass fredegar loser in Mordor. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to Cirith Ungol. I knew it. Blinky fredegar tricked me! That little snek bastard! I’ll Yank his face off! Arhghhh! There’s only one thing to do now. fredegar shire up. I figured out Blinky was in league with the Toad, buncha scale fredegar sneaks those two. What the hell did I ever do to them? Sure I licked the Toad, but that jumped up squat faced dick had it coming. He’s a toad! Melkor made them so we could lick them. They aren’t supposed to be lawyers! fredegar it. fredegar it all! Just leave the bottle. I said… wait, you can’t fredegar hear me anyway. I’m a goddamn ghost. Imma wreck this place and there’s nothing you can do about it, you good for nothing shire monkey. “Oh I’m Frost, I’m all spidery and tall and will fredegar anything that moves.” You’re an asswipe with chiseled abs and lats for days. You ain’t shire. You have great hair, sure. But guess what, I don’t even have hair so I don’t care about how shiny and perfect yours is. You have tattoos? Big deal! My friend grows fredegar mushrooms in his belly button! Yeah, bet you can’t do that, you little baggins ass, tall as a drink of water stud! I want my tequila! How dare you cut me off in the middle of my story! You pretentious blue eyed asshole. If my friend Reg were here… he’d hide under a table because apparently, he’s scared of you. Well fredegar you. Yeah, I said it. fredegar you. You horse hung lonely jerk. Ever been fredegar in the ear by a ghost? Wait… did he see me? Oh shire! fredegar! Dammit, not now! Oh… oh that little Toad has some nerve coming in here and sitting in my old spot! That daft Curufinwë! That madman… madtoad? Whatever… I have to admire the cojones on him. Do toads have cojones? Is it like withers with horses, where you think it’s referring to something dirty but it’s completely ordinary and boring. I’m dead, I have a lot of time to think. Oh fredegar hell! Reg! You traitorous asshole! Why are you sitting in our spot with him! He’s the enemy! Wait… no! No! You were working together?! Reg, you smelly twhit twoo! You betrayed me. I loved you like a brother and you betrayed me? Et tu Reg? You know what, I’m gonna shire in your lutefisk and you’re gonna eat it. fredegar fredegar!

[Lady of Shadow]

"So, it was that slithering snake known as Blinky that tried to make off with Ketchup the Fell Beast!" even Naelia herself was having a hard time believing it, unless Blinky wasn't what he appeared to be.

Flabbergasted at such a foolhardy idea, the minioness still wasn't successful at tracking down the thief's hiding place. "If I were a Lava Snake, or just a regular snake, and was guilty of such a crime, where would I hide out?" Naelia thought to herself. Where would Asmodeus hide? the minioness recalled, thinking of the new Lava Snake that her trusty Orcish helper, Orngor, managed to find for her after her last one was carried off by a spawn of Shelob in a IK Racing practice run. At least Asmodeus happened to actually win a race, rather than being eaten! Both Naelia and Asmodeus were taking a break from racing while the minioness was catching up on some neglected duties.

She now found herself searching through the Halls of Injustice for some odd reason. "Would this be a good place to hide for such a creature?" Naelia thought to herself as she began to search for one of the littliest creatures guilty of a crime in the Land of Shadow.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!

[Lady of Shadow]

"Looks like I was wrong about the identity of the thief!" Naelia thought to herself, now realizing it was actually none other than the Georges that were guilty of making off with Ketchup the Fell Beast. "That makes a little more sense..." the minioness thought to herself, since how could a Lava Snake be guilty of taking such an item? "Unless Blinky isn't what he appears to be." Naelia thought to herself, even though she now knew that was not the case.

Continuing to search through the Halls of Injustice, she wondered why the thieves would want to make off with one of the preferred steeds of the Nazgul. "It looks like someone, or more accurately, two someones, suffer from some delusions of grandeur!" the minioness thought to herself as she continued to pinpoint their exact location.

[Moriel]

DING DING DING!

The thief has been caught!! @Lady Winchester has successfully apprehended those creepy thieves The Georges in their hiding place in the Halls of Injustice, where they had made off with Ketchup the Fell Beast. LW, you are now a Minion Second Rank Hunter! You may choose to specialize in Thieves, Places, or Items, and will be able to guess two possible Thieves, Places, or Items, according to which specialization you choose, in each post.

As always in Mordor, thievery is rife, and it's time to set out after one again... a new culprit is abroad, the traps have been reset, Thief Hunt Round Seven, commence!

[Baphởmet]

Fleeg woke with a start, falling off his bed and onto the cold stone floor. He’d just had the most awful, horrific nightmare. He’d died! And it wasn’t even Reg that killed him! Fleeg had imagined several ways to die, usually when he was high on toad, usually it was Swiltang gutting him with a spear and using his skin as a standard or Búbosha poisoning his centipede martini. Falling into Mt Doom was not high on Fleeg’s list of cool ways to die. Anyone that fell into the volcano was a loser that deserved it, prancing around on the edge of a lava flow, what is wrong with some people? Okay, okay. So dying was a dream, that much Fleeg had established. But what about the rest of it? What about the Toad? That part he was sure wasn’t a dream. That slimy amphibian was always out to get him. Whether it was a dream or no, Fleeg needed to be ready, so he bounded off the floor, brushed off all the grime, snail slime, and rotten lime that was sticking to him, got dressed in his best sneaking outfit (he simply turned his orange jacket inside out so that it was brown on outside), and brushed his teeth. It had been a few weeks since he’d brushed his teeth and wow, the things he found on his toothbrush!

No matter though! He was on his way to the Black Market where he hoped to upgrade his spygear. What is goblin spygear I hear you ask (don’t deny it, I know you’re curious) well it’s all the things western culture believes about ninjitsu. Fleeg, an insensitive and ignorant nunce, believed all the exaggerated reports he heard from dubious travelling salesmen. Did he ever bother to confirm what they told him? Did he ever bother to check for himself? Did he ever question why there were so many holes in the narratives he was told? Of course not. This is Fleeg. He might be descended from the greatest fighters the world has ever known, but he doesn’t know the different between a grappling hook and a gimp suit, he was in fact sold one believing it would help him blend in with his environment better. If you don’t believe me, I’ll bet you all of Írimë’s Wine Collection.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Lady of Shadow]

"Finally managed to apprehend another one!" Naelia thought to herself as she began to search for Mordor's latest thief. ""Don't these thieves ever learn?" she thought to herself as she found herself searching through MInas Morgul once again.

Even though she wasn't as familiar with the area as her trusted Orcish helper, Orngor, was, she knew enough about it to get around and search for clues, which is all that mattered to catch these thieves, but nearly tripped over not one, but two items. "So, these thieves are getting a little more crafty with attempting to take more than one item!" the minioness thought to herself as she surveyed the items in question. They were the Cat O' Nine Tails as well as the Pink Tricycle. "I wonder if Lathana had anything to do with this,,," knowing that that nuisance of a half-sister of hers often liked foo-ish colors like this, eyeing one of the items she came across, but since the she-Elf was still imprisoned in the Pits (last time she checked anyway, since Lathana was always trying to find ways to escape the Dark Land and go back to her home in Northern Mirkwood, even though Naelia was her only surviving family member), the minioness continued to search for clues as to the real thief's identity.

As she was contemplating this, she could have sworn she saw the Elf than once sprang a trap upon her, none other than Fuin obviously up to no good. "Ah, the plot thickens..." Naelia thought to herself as she continued to track the she-Elf.

[Baphởmet]

Fleeg learned a very important lesson, don’t buy a gimp suit that’s a size too small for you, even if it’s half the price of the one that is your size. In fact, he learned not to buy gimp suits in Mordor at all! Shedding the misappropriated spy gear, Fleeg abandoned his attempts at ninjutsu. He was not cut out for that kind of life after all. Blue was not very slimming on him and he preferred his warg skin jacket. So if he couldn’t sneak about, what was Fleeg going to do? He needed an ally, or allies preferably. The problem with Fleeg finding allies (aside from the myriad members of the Fleeg Fan Club) was that everyone seemed to want to kill him for some reason or another. Reg was always an option because, despite his Ch AosBr O’s desire to murder him, he knew that it wouldn’t happen when he was expecting it and therefore expected it at all times (and got very confused when he was trying to express this line of thinking). What about Elenhir? Sure he was a surly man (orc, balrog, thing?) but he was effective, and best of all he had no reason to want to murder Fleeg forthwith, which was always a plus. Sadly, the services of this angry, snarky, and acerbic genius were not cheap. In fact, they might be more expensive than all the money Fleeg had spent on an ill-fitting gimp suit (he stretched uncomfortably thinking of it) and spy gear he bought alongside it, all without the possibility of a refund. Bottles of tequila and absinthe were not easy to come by in Mordor, but in order to even gain a meeting, Fleeg was going to need them. And so, in order to find and steal (preferably) the bottles of precious, Fleeg made his way to Barad-dûr. Why the Dark Tower? Well, if there were riches to be found, they would be found in the place with most powerful people (or things) in Mordor. It was risky, but fortune favors the bold. That’s what Fleeg’s grandfather, Fleeg, said when Fleeg was a little goblette. Of course, his grandfather was eaten by Lava Snakes so maybe take his advice with a large grain of salt.

[Moriel]

The thief HAS been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Baphởmet]

Armed with the absinthe (that adventure will be revealed at a later date, full of Fleegian shenanigans and very poor decision making) Fleeg made his way to where Elenhir made his abode. It was not until he was halfway to the Sea of Nurnen that he suddenly realized he had no idea where the elven/mannish/orkish curmudgeon actually lived. Too late, as usual with all things Fleeg, he realized this too late. Reg would have a great old laugh about this. Reg laughed at anything though, especially his belly button mushrooms. The thought of those semi-sentient things gave Fleeg the willies. No! No, enough of that. He was going to stop and have a good think. The problem with all Fleeg’s plans were that he, well he had no plans within in plans. Admittedly it was a bit of a fatal flaw. So, sat on a rock overlooking the Towers of No Return, Fleeg began to contemplate his predicament. He was in no real danger, physically. He was in great danger socially though. The Toad had made an absolute buffoon out of him and if word of that got around, well Fleeg could kiss his fan club goodbye, Bubosha too probably. Who wants to be attached to a goblin that was duped by a mere toad? It simply would not do! Why, Fleeg would much rather be caught in a Sequined Bumflap Onesie! At least it would be nice and cozy and he could poo without taking his pants off. Right then, a plan. Find Elenhir, ply him with alcohol, tell him the Toad was praising David Day and saying all sorts of things like MERP was canon to rile him up, point in the direction of the Toad and boom, profit!

[Moriel]

The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Baphởmet]

Fleeg whiled away the hours, watching a lava bloom explode out of Mt Doom (from a safe distance of course), and daydreaming. It was when he was hit by a semi molten rock in the face that he realized he was supposed to be doing something els. “Fahhh! Dammit Reg would you…” he looked around and didn’t see his ChA OsB rO anywhere. Reg had been missing for some time now. Despite his hatred of his best friend, Fleeg missed the bemushroomed oaf. Perhaps he’d find him after he was done with this whole Elenhir business. Surely he was around here somewhere. Maybe they could ambush some poor sap on the road and use his severed head to play a game of kickball? Fleeg slowly picked himself up off the ground, slipping when he accidently grabbed the semi-molten rock. He screamed, as he was wont to do from time to time, and hurled the rock into the wind. Thankfully, some god was looking after the idiot goblin and the rock did not fly back and hit him in the face.

Right, enough daydreaming. Fleeg was on his way to the Halls of Injustice. Why there? Well because perhaps Bubosha would know where the mysterious Elenhir was or at least have some clue. While he was there, he was going to see if she would be in on stealing the designs for a Sequined Bumflap Onesie. There would be no conflicts of interest there, right? It wasn’t like Bubosha and Sil were the same person. It wasn’t that important, but if he was here to see the gobliness of his dreams, he might as well make the most of it, and she might tolerate him more if he were there for more official reasons than begging for information.

[Moriel]

The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

@Ambivalent Octopus, within the Halls of Injustice you have stumbled upon the Murder Hornets! The thief has managed to relocate a nest of enormous, deadly, ANGRY hornets from the far east into this place. You must figure out a way to escape with your life before hunting again.

[Marceline]

Reg wanted to kill Fleeg, who wanted to find
Elenhir, who would probably be
Grumpy about being caught wearing a Sequined Bumflap Onesie
Despite his reputation for serious discourse.
Ûhhhhhhh anyway, the
Spa was probably full of Fleeg Fans
Hellbent on meeting their crush. Reg rolled his eyes.

[Baphởmet]

Betrayed! Fleeg had been betrayed! In his quest to bring vengeance to the Toad of Consistancy, he’d gone to the Halls of Injustice for help. It was there that someone had unleashed a horde of murder hornets. Yes! Murder hornets! It was not that he was being attacked that made the goblin feel so attacked, it was that whoever this was had broken into his stall in the Black Market and stolen his murder hornets. How dare! How dare! Thankfully, Fleeg knew exactly how to get these little bastards in line. He waved his hand about and produced a jar of apple cider vinegar from within his pockets (goblin pockets are endless if you were curious, that’s how they always have so much stuff with them at any given moment). He opened the jar and waited for all his babies to come back to him. Then that didn’t happen. What? Oh crap. Oh shire! Oh balls ass baggins! They’d been retrained (or more likely, trained in the first place) to attack Fleeg! He ran from the Halls of Injustice, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. The Toad had an ally it seemed, one that was devious and clever. That ruled out one person Fleeg knew. It was time to pay that one person a visit.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!

@Ambivalent Octopus, you may now hunt again!

[Baphởmet]

Fleeg, dejected, stung half a hundred times, and sober, dragged himself back to the Uhhhhhhhhhh Spa. He didn’t want to be here. He’d much rather be at his apiary in the Black Market. But his apiary was empty and there was no way he was going to go there, heartbroken and dying to stare wistfully at the empty cages while an indie solo artist song no one has ever heard of plays over the top. He was not going to break down and cry and rage and do whatever it is people did in stories. He was going to get drunk. Well and truly fredegar. The Toad was clever, he’d managed to stay one, two, even five steps ahead of Fleeg this entire time. Fleeg was going to have to go back to drawing board on this one. His plan had clearly failed. He unlocked the liquor cabinet, well didn’t unlock it so much as smash it open in a fit of rage when none of the keys worked (had Reg changed the locks on him?), and found it all empty. What the fredegar?! Someone had been stealing his…

What was that?

Fleeg whirled about and sitting there, sipping green fairy absinthe from a crystal goblet was Elenhir, the elusive bottle of rage himself. He was not amused, so he told Fleeg, that he’d been summoned here to this ridiculous place, a spa of all things in Mordor. It was not canon, he said. And he also told Fleeg that the Sequined Bumflap Onesie was a stupid idea and it would never catch on. However, he’d help him kill the Toad.

Alright!

[Marceline]

Fah! Reg was angry. He was still looking for his Orb SoAhc, but he
Lacked the wits to untangle the mystery of Fleeg's whereabouts. He did see
Elenhir arguing with someone while wearing his Sequined Bumflap Onesie. Did he look dignified? No. Fabulous? Yes,
Except that he was covered in gravy from the Mushroom Delight,
Generous portions of which could be acquired at the Uhhhhhh Spa.

[Moriel]

DING DING DING!

The thief has been caught!! @Ambivalent Octopus and @Tarawen have BOTH successfully apprehended that acerbic thief Elenhir in his hiding place in the Uhhhhhh Spa, where he had made off with the Sequined Bumflap Onesie.

Tara, you are now a Minion First Rank Hunter! Nothing special happens.

Frost, you are now Minion Third Rank Hunter! You will not be affected by any traps, in addition to the 2nd Rank abilities. If you stumble on a trap, you may redirect it to the player of your choice.

As always in Mordor, thievery is rife, and it's time to set out after one again... a new culprit is abroad, the traps have been reset, Thief Hunt Round Eight, commence!

[Baphởmet]

Armed with a “plan”, Fleeg exited his spa. The sky was black and full of ash, the same as it always was. Still, Fleeg thought as he looked up at the lack of stars or astral bodies, it was a beautiful sight. It was not a beautiful sight, it was grim and grey and dismal. Goblins tend to see things differently, especially goblins who believe that they are about to get what they want. Elenhir had suggested that Fleeg go drown himself in mushroom grog and die and, while that plan had some merit (how is anyone’s guess) Fleeg was not overly eager to die in his revenge plot. Faking his death, though, would be a stroke of genius. Elenhir thought the death should be authentic, but Fleeg went ahead without him. Yes, he’d fake his death and frame the Toad for his murder. But that might not work, Elenhir had pointed out. If the Toad was accused, he might be celebrated, given how many people hated Fleeg and wanted him dead. He was right of course. But who to blame? He’d blame that one elf that was always skulking about. What was her name? It rhymed with ruin, Stewin’? No that wasn’t it. Doin’ as in “what are you Doin’ stay away from the ruin? No, no that wasn’t it either. Fuin? Who would have a name like that? What did that even mean. Fleeg would think of the name later, he knew the elf in question. He’d blame his death on her. She’d be celebrated sure, but it would make the Toad jealous, he always liked attention. He’d kill her in retaliation and swing that Rotting-Leg-O’-Lass about as if he’d avenged poor Fleeg’s untimely death by an outsider and Freep. Then Fleeg would pop out, preferably out of a cake, and expose the Toad for the fraud (and probably frog) he was! It was brilliant! Fool proof (unless you counted Fleeg)! This was a plan that was even worth Swiltang’s Dignity, surely he’s forbearer would come down from his lofty tower on The Morannon and congratulate Fleeg on a scheme well-played.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Lady of Shadow]

After taking a short break from thief hunting to catch up on some of her other duties (including checking in on Lathana to make sure her nuisance of a half-sister wasn't plotting any new escape attempts), Naelia was on the hunt once again. This time, she found herself searching through both the Towers of No Return and Minas Morgul for the thief that thought that they could get away with taking something from the Dark Land and the item that had mysteriously disappeared.

It seemed the thieves had upped their game, as of late, since instead of attempting to hide in once place, they tried to hide in two places! Or did they hide in once place and stash the item in the other? Either way, the minioness wasn't going to let them get away with it! "Not on my watch!" she thought to herself as she nearly missed the Cat O' Nine Tails hidden in plain sight. "Now who would want to make off with this?" Naelia thought to herself as a person of interest caught her attetion.

It was none other than Blinky, and as he slithered around the nearest corner, the minioness wondered what he needed with such an item. Was the snake once targeted by him and now he wanted revenge? The only way for Naelia to find out was to capture him, so she headed in the direction she saw him slithering away to. "Perhaps I'll get lucky!" the minioness thought to herself as she continued to track him.

[Baphởmet]

There we have it folx! Fleeg was dead* and it was time for the Toad of Consistency to come make his rounds as the hero of Mordor. No one else could have killed that disgusting, pervy, unhygienic, loudmouth goblin. Well, that’s not true. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of Black Land residents that could have killed him. But it was the Toad that finally did the deed. As such, he was hailed as a hero, the hero really. Even Sauron, through a series of emissaries, congratulated him on a job well done. Írimë’s Wine Stash was all but depleted at the pub, as round after round after round was bought in congratulations. That night was filled with the noise of celebration and merry making. There has not been this much rejoicing in the Black Lands since Khamûl bested the Witch King in a rap battle back in the Second Age. Blinky, the retired Lava Snake, took the opportunity to announce the publication of his newest book of poetry: What’s that Smell?: A Day in the Life of Reg. It was a smashing success, he sold out all of his copies at the pub in an hour!

To say it was not quite going according to Fleeg’s plan, was to say that Dhâd Bûrz was a place of minor discomfort. Yes, he knew there would be celebrations and merrymaking at his expense, but damn. Sauron! Blinky! It was all a rather crushing blow to his enormous ego.

*Not actually dead, just hiding under the floorboards of On the Rocks whilst fending off a George or two.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Baphởmet]

Things were going according to “plan”, if by going according to plan meant that everyone in the world was celebrating Fleeg’s death. Or maybe it was just the Toad they were celebrating. At a certain point the lines blurred and Fleeg was no longer able to distinguish which was which. Fleeg, still hidden under the floorboards of On the Rocks, along with One George (the others had run off to find more interesting prey among the drunken revelers upstairs), contemplated his life choices. It was a weird night. Fleeg never contemplated anything. That was how he was able to be friends with the half myconid orc Reg (where was that doofus anyway, he’d promised to be down here with him) and come up with ideas like a murder hornet apiary. Where murder hornets still a thing? Somehow it felt they had been forgotten in all the weird shire going on in the world. Focus!!! Jeez, what was Fleeg, some Dumb Orc who couldn’t stay focused long enough to count to four? Okay, okay, okay. Let’s stay on target, we don’t need another episode of a wandering mind in the middle of an important task. Remember the attempted theft of the Hauberk of Angmar? Fleeg’s wandering daydreams cost ten goblins their life. Not a huge price sure, but it had resulted in a failure (and a warrant) that Fleeg could not afford. How long was he going to have to wait on the party upstairs? How many hours had they been partying and swinging from Those Shadowy Rafters? The time was coming soon to reveal his murder was actually some random elf in Mordor (what was her name again?). He had to be patient. Not easy, not when you have a giant weasel that keeps looking at you like you’re filet mignon.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

[Baphởmet]

Dear Swiltang,

I hope this letter reaches you. I’m not sure the mood you’ll be in, but since this letter is from me, I’m sure you are in a very foul mood already. Please don’t crumple this up and toss it into the fire. I know, I know, everything about me disgusts you and makes you wish you’d sided with Fingolfin back in the day or that someone would cut me open, fill my innards with worms, and sow me back up again. But please, just listen. There’s an elf hanging around that doesn’t look like she belongs. Bit redundant, I know but hear me out. I started following her from the pub (Reg was passed out so I was making my way alone) because she was acting suspicious, like she was trying to spy or something but doing a piss poor job of it, like elves do. I wanted to catch her in the act of something, so I decided to keep following her. You’d be proud I think, I managed to remember all the things you tried to teach me back when I was a gobling and tracked her without being seen at all.

There were several times during this hunt I was nearly seen, but I managed to hide Beneath a Rock before the elf made me. Hiding under rocks does come in handy. I don’t want to say “I told you so” here but well, when you told me the only time to hide under a rock is if Sauron crushed me beneath seems to be inaccurate now. Anyway, hiding aside, I managed to follow her all the way to the Isenmouthe where she looks to be trying to break into the supply warehouses. I can only assume this particular elf is trying to steal the Grond prototype we, that is to say you, are building. I can only assume this because, well she tried to unlock a door that said “GROND PROTOTYPE – KEEP OUT” for several minutes. How she was unseen by the guards in all this time I have no idea. You should get better guards for your most sensitive projects, you never know when your brother might show up and try to steal from you. I heard he’s a git who would do that sort of thing. I would never steal from you, everyone else yes, but never you.

She failed, for the time being, but when I did examine the door to see how far she got, I read a note: “On a hot dog, Ketchup’s a Fell Beast” What do you suppose that means?

I’m sending this letter by courier, I hope it reaches you in time. I am beginning to fear for my safety with this elf. Come quick.

Fleeg

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!

@Prometherion, Beneath A Rock you have stumbled upon the Ratking! Here you happen upon a huge ratking. Normally when one discovers a massive group of rats who have gotten tangled and stuck together by the tails such as this, they're already dead... not this time. The ratking is alive, and full of rage. It attacks you en masse, and you must fight it off before hunting again!

[Baphởmet]

This was not part of the plan. Nowhere in Fleeg’s genius manifesto of revenge was getting caught up in a ratking attack part of the plan. This was a disaster. The thing seethed and screeched and squirmed. It was the creepiest thing he’d ever seen (and he’s seen Reg in the morning before he puts on a shirt). He found it (or rather a George found it and led it to him) under the floorboards of On the Rocks. Really, Írimë needed to keep her place cleaner, having a ratking under the floorboards is a specific violation of the Barkeep Guide, Section 5, Subsection 3, Heading 5, Line Item 7:” No ratkings shall be permitted to live in, under, or above an establishment created for the purposes of selling alcohol. Any violation of such can result in a fine of no less than five hundred pounds of silver and the forfeiture of the liquor license.”

Maybe this was a way for him to steal the bar from her? He had no ill will toward her, except that she wouldn’t let him drink and murder people in her bar and he was never invited into her upstairs apartment. It was discriminatory of course, but not in the sort of overtly illegal kind. Still, he wanted a bar. He could add it to his list of accomplishments. Just think of the branding opportunities he could have with a bar and a spa. Silver flashed before Fleeg’s slimy face.

He forgot about the ratking.

It bit him a dozen times before he came out of his CHEERS centric daydream.

He wanted to scream. It would have felt so good to scream! But he couldn’t not without giving away his major plan of blaming the Toad for murder and sending him to the Pits to be tortured forever and ever. He had only one recourse. He had to fight the ratking the same way the ratking was fighting him. It was gross but someone had to do it. He opened his mouth and started biting.

[Moriel]

@Prometherion, you may now hunt again!

[Baphởmet]

With the taste of rat still in his mouth (he preferred grilled rat over raw, but needs must and all that), Fleeg thought he heard the party dying down. He could crawl out from Beneath A Rock, or On the Rocks, or whatever. He was tired, had a bad taste of rat in his mouth, and was dreadfully sober. He hadn’t killed the ratking, only eaten a few of the members. He knew it would likely be back for revenge. Unless he was able to get exactly what he needed. There was a chance, even if it was a small one.

He crept out of the basement crawlspace and saw that, indeed, most of the party had moved on elsewhere. The Toad was likely being carried about on the broad, lumpy shoulders of Narv the Cave Troll to another location, maybe for the ritual celebration sacrifice. Woe to the poor lava snake they catch for that. Fleeg almost felt bad, almost. He didn’t actually feel bad. Lava snakes were just big glowy snakes (or not, still not sure), they didn’t have feelings or emotions. Right? Blinky was different, but Blinky was an anomaly. Whatever, we’re getting off track again.

Fleeg was in a bind. The whole thing was taking too long. The letter to Swiltang might not have been delivered on time, which meant that both Swiltang would still be disappointed in him and that the plan was stalling. Oh glob! What if the plan never finished and the Toad was promoted to 10th Nazgûl? Was that a thing? No. Surely not. But… no, not thinking about that at all. The Toad was just a toad. It was not as if he was going to find the One Ring and become the Dark Lord’s new favorite. The Witch-King would never allow that.

There’s an idea. Ally with the Lord of the Nazgûl to take down the Toad. It was foolproof. Well, no, it wasn’t at all. It was a bad idea. A really bad idea. He’d have to go to Minas Morgul to even try it and there was no way he was going to go into the creepy city again. Never, ever carry around a Dead Chicken on a leash in that city… weird stuff goes down

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!

@Prometherion, Beneath A Rock you have stumbled upon the Ratking! You know what to do.

[Lady of Shadow]

Taking a break from thief hunting to catch up on some of her other duties, Naelia was now back on the case. She heard from her trusty Orcish helper, Orngor, to steer clear of a certain location, due to rumors that the Ratking may be about, so the minioness found herself searching through that "watering" hole known as On the Rocks once again. "Let someone else deal with that freak of nature known as the Ratking!" Naelia thought to herself.

Not finding anything of interest there, the minioness now headed towards Cirith Ungol and came across none other than a Dead Chicken of all things and wondered (not for the first time, since she came across this item before) if it was that fowl she saw attempting to conquer the Tower of Might when she went to challenge such a Tower herself once upon a time. "It seemed more like a dungeon than an actual tower." Naelia reminisced as she tried to track down the latest thief.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw the Georges sneaking around the area looking for something. "Probably making sure that Her Ladyship isn't about." the minioness thought to herself as she continued to track these "people of interest" so to speak, though "people" was a relative term, especially in a place like Mordor, where the "shadows" lie.

[Baphởmet]

Well, here we are again. Fleeg knew it was more than a possibility, that it was an inevitably. The ratking was back. Why was the ratking back? Because Fleeg ate half of them. He ate the wrong half though. If he’d eaten the bold, angry ones instead of the weak and scared ones, he would not be in this situation. Granted, they were all bold and angry, but still. Fleeg was in trouble once again. He was on the floor of the pub, scuttling around like a booger colored beetle when he saw the beast coming for him. Predictably, round two did not go his way. That was how trilogies go, and this was likely going to be a trilogy because let’s face it Fleeg is the dunce that will pick a fight with a ratking because he can’t think of anything better to do. The ratking was angrier than before and, because it had left the deadweight behind, faster and more agile. Fleeg was doomed from the start. This whole endeavor was doomed from the start, but this particular escapade was particularly doomed. He received over a dozen bites before he was even able to get on his feet. When he did, he stepped on a broken bottle, the largest shard going straight through his foot. When he goat-screamed, because he doesn’t know any other way to scream, a rat untangled itself from the ratking and jumped down his throat. He would have choked to death right there had it not been for the height of the bar behind him. He staggered back, hacking and pulling at the things tail as it tried to burrow itself into his lungs, and slammed his head on the edge just hard enough to push the rat out of his lungs and back to the floor. He stamped on the rat on instinct, sending a spray of rat guts in a hundred different directions, including his open, very infectable, wounds. He slipped and fell face first into the rest of the ratking. The resulting mess was not pretty, but it could be sold as art in the next show. He puked on the resultant mess. Maybe he could talk to Búbosha and see when the next show was… after all this was over. He needed a nap badly.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

@Prometherion, you may now hunt again!

[Baphởmet]

Fleeg must have passed out at some point after the second fight with the ratking. It was the second fight wasn’t it? They were starting to blur together. He needed to get out and away from On the Rocks, and for more reasons than just escaping the ratking. The evidence was planted to frame the elf that had been wandering about for his murder, not the Toad. She was also buried Beneath a Rock for Fleeg to uncover, also with incriminating evidence aplenty to pin the Toad to the wall. Fleeg wanted to make sure he saw everything happen. Any moment now, he was going to watch Sil or maybe Winddancer at the head of a line of guards and arrest the Toad. Oh how the tables will turn!

Murder was a funny thing in Mordor. It happened all the time, more often than other petty crimes like stealing, money laundering, trafficking, or things like that. It is amusing to note that drugs, as a part of the sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll trifecta is not illegal in any way shape or form and many people took advantage of that. Murder was fine if it was orc on orc or goblin on goblin and so on, but the minute it’s elf on goblin or toad on elf, things get murky. Fleeg was counting on the strange bureaucratic interpretation of gray areas to pull off his scheme. The Toad was clever, but no toad was ever going to outthink Fleeg! Bufo the Wizard learned that! He had been licked into oblivion by Fleeg and Reg. And he deserved it! The way that wizard carried himself, you’d think he made the One Ring or something when in reality he was nothing more than a Dead Chicken licker.

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!

@Prometherion, Ratking time.

[Baphởmet]

Hello Ratking, my old friend
I don’t want to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its poo while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of goat screams

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of lava stone
'Neath the halo of murder hornets
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a toady light
That split the night
And touched the sound of goat screams

And in the naked light, I saw
Ten thousand ratkings, maybe more
Ratkings talking without speaking
Ratkings hearing without listening
Ratkings writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of goat screams

"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Goat screams like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might eat you
Take my arms that I might cheat you"
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of goat screams

And the ratking bowed and prayed
To the toady god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the Regdûsh are written on the bathroom walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered in the sound of goat screams

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item has NOT been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!

@Prometherion you may now hunt again!
Oh, and, uhh.... a little goblin whispered that you're a Minion Third Rank Hunter and aren't affected by traps. HAHA SUCKS TO BE YOU.
Carry on, if anyone else starts playing before you find the answer you will of course be able to redirect the trap to them as is your right.
Sorry about that

[Baphởmet]

That’s it! That’s it! He was done with the ratking. Fleeg was quite sure that no matter how bad things got from here on out, he was not going to have to deal with the stupid ratking anymore. He needed a patsy to keep the seething thing distracted if it came after him again. Perhaps it was time to reveal to Reg, his dearest most despicable ChA Osb R o, that he was still alive. The oaf would for sure come running to greet his best friend, then try to kill him with a dead crow or something. It was perfect. The fungal monstrosity wouldn’t suspect a thing (he simply didn’t have the brain power) and he didn’t need that horrid Lovecraftian thing crawling out from Beneath a Rock when he was trying to convince Swiltang or Ziltang or hell, even Diltang that he was not in fact murdered and that the Toad of Conspiracy had murdered someone thinking it was him. That was the plan, right? This little gag had gone on so long and he’d been bitten so many time by at least a dozen different ratkings that he wasn’t sure what was the plan and what was a treasure map to the One Ring on the bottom of a bottle of rum. Seriously, he was seeing things. Was that Diltang up ahead on the road? Surely not. That was too much of a coincidence. Right? The dude hadn’t even appeared in over a year. There was no way he was just going suddenly exist right in front of Fleeg. Still though, that did look like him. Had he been at the party for the Toad? Fleeg had heard some raucous laughter but he wasn’t sure if he could pick out Diltang’s very distinct laugh.

“Hey!” he decided it was a good reason to shout, finding out who this doof was playing solitaire in the middle of a dusty road in Mordor, “Hey you! ‘zat you Diltang?”

This could only go one of two ways…

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!

[Baphởmet]

Nope. That was not Diltang. That was, I repeat, NOT Diltang. How could Fleeg have mistaken a large goblin woman with a series of symmetrical warts for Diltang? They look nothing alike! She was bulbous with a hooked nose so sharp she could have stabbed Fleeg with it. But, Fleeg being Fleeg, decided to press his luck. He was distracted on his way to Swiltang because, well that’s what Fleeg does, he’s distracted by anything ugly enough to pull his attention away from his actual mission. He decided it was a good idea to talk to this woman after calling her Diltang at the top of his lungs a few dozen times. She was an angry broad, but can you blame her? Here was this idiot goblin who may as well have just crawled up from Beneath a Rock and started calling her by a man’s name! Might as well call the Dark Lord himself Karen. She did not waste words with him. Instead, she took the solitaire cards and stuffed them into his face at a very high rate of speed. He screamed, cursed at her (and she cursed back and kicked him in the groin), and ran away.

He was lucky she didn’t recognize him. One random angry goblin lady could have spoiled the entire plan. It was a good thing he didn’t run into Zôr (any of them mind you). He’d end up d e d. Either because they disliked him on principle or because he tried to hit on them. It was time to count his lucky stars. Did goblins have lucky stars? Lucky random bugs and rocks.

He had to scramble now though. His confrontation with the goblin woman (who was coincidently named Reiltang, no relation though) had put him behind schedule. More behind schedule that his multiple unnecessary fights with the ratking (really Fleeg you are a dunce and half). He had to get to Swiltang’s house. House? Did Swiltang have a house? Surely he didn’t just live in a fancy barracks or chamber. Dude’s old, he deserves a house (even Reg had a “house”). He found the largest, most impressive house near the Morannon and decided to give the place One Ring, and if it turns out it wasn’t Swiltang’s house, then no harm no foul… right?

[Moriel]

The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!