Thief Hunt::Series IV

"Going to Mordor!" Cried Pippin. "I hope it won’t come to that!"
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At last she had a reprieve from hauling that fredegaring tricycle up those long, narrow stairs again. She did have to trek back through Cirith Ungol, though, which while not as exhausting as the stairs was still an experience in and of itself. It would help if she could find One George to take with her. You had to meet ferocity with ferocity, of course.

The question, though, was who had made off with One George. Perhaps Frost. Since he worked around them, it would make sense that they would possibly let him handle them.

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Yup, that’s me again. This time I’m on fire, lots of fire. How did I get here? Well that’s a bit of a story. Go ahead and sit down. Are you sitting? Look, I’m not gonna wait on you so either sit or stand. Okay, fine. Stand all you want. Okay. I was on fire. Purple flames if you can believe it. Purple! Right? So strange. What had Reg done to make that happen? Needless to say, despite the excruciating pain I was in, I was impressed. Then I was more on fire. Way more on fire. What had my hErMaNo de SoAc done?! I should have been mad. I should have been furious. I was on fire for Melkor’s sake! This was worse than that time I got stuck in Cirith Ungol (I think the place should be called Curing Ungol, but no one agrees). Remember that? When I was stuck in a pickle barrel? Of course you don’t remember. What am I even telling you this story for? Ugh!

Okay, okay. Fine I’ll tell the story. Not the pickle story, you lost out on that one. Yeah, you’re worse than Reg. He’s just dumb. What’s your excuse? Okay so there I was, on purple fire. Uruva, the Cat Queen of Mordor, was in the pub that night and she thought it was the funniest thing. She gave Reg a free drink (how she did that when she didn’t own the pub I’m not sure but that’s really not that important). Reg, weird as that Nazgûl booger is, freaked the fredegar out over the bartender, who was just doing his thing without a shirt. Right? Okay, I’m not the only one that things that’s strange. Hey, only I get to insult Reg you little weasel! Anyway, Reg freaks out and trips over this Hobbit that keeps showing up wherever I am. Jorgy. Yeah, that’s his name. Why he keeps showing up is a mystery. Don’t. Don’t say it. I asked you not to say and you did anyways. You’re an ass.

At least Jorgy was useful this time. He freaked out over the fires, saying they might hurt his pearls (again with the pearls, what is with that guy). He threw some water on my and suddenly, all the wonderful purple fire was gone. I was sad. Yes, despite the fact it was going to kill me. You don’t understand the ChAoS bRoS so you don’t get an opinion. Melkor’s mercy! What do you even care? Killing each other in interesting ways is our thing. I get it. You don’t approve. But you know what? I don’t care. Go feed Ketchup the Fell Beast with your face. You know what, I’m not doing this again. You didn’t want to listen to my story and you whined the entire time. You suck!
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Dwim crept up to the Morannon. The nearer he got to the way out of Mordor, the clearer and sunnier the weather got. The land was becoming brighter and it was harder to find dark places to hide in. Hiding was something he'd not been counting on having to do. He was here because he'd been told it was a great place for sightseeing. He'd expected to see a whole bunch of tourists standing around, gawking at the Black Gate and the Towers of the Teeth. But nothing of the sort seemed to be happening. He was awfully exposed as an outsider. There was an army of orcs and trolls chanting "GROND! GROND!" over and over. It seemed as if the battering ram was just returning home, and Sauron's armies seemed quite pleased about that.

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Somehow, Naelia ended up back in her home base, the mighty tower of Barad-dur, trying to track down a thief who made off with the Pink Tricycle. "Why someone was permitted to bring such an item to the Dark Land in the first place is beyond me!" the minioness often wondered, since like many, she despised any kind of foo in her native homeland (and the item in question was of a color that Elves like her half-sister, Lathana, would prefer).

Not liking to be reminded of someone she thought was nothing but a nuisance, Naelia could have sworn she saw Taethowen tearing around a corner as if a Balrog were after them. "Or was somebody on to them, since they guessed they were up to no good?" the minioness thought as she began to track them through the one place in Middle-earth that always felt like home, though it filled many of the free peoples (as well as some minions) with dread.
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What was that dumb hobbit's problem?? Why would he put out the fire? What was his name? Georgie? Yorjy? Jorgy? Augh argh, whatever. It didn't matter. Reg was pissed. He'd been longing to watch Fleeg's face melt off in the purple flames! He'd built up to this moment for so long!

Cursing, Regdûsh ran up to the little lava-snake-turned-hoppit and kicked him, sending him sailing over the bar. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to interfere with a mutual murder pact?!?!" he yelled. It'd only be fitting if Ketchup the Fell Beast ate that stupid critter, just as Ketchup had eaten Lailorn: in one, big bite.

Perhaps it was time for the cHAos BroS to move on to a new spot. It might be fun to mess with the Eye! And so Reg motioned to the door with a vast sweep of one hairy arm, clocking Fleeg in the face as he did so. "It's time for some cAoS at Barad-dûr!!"
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She felt like she was closing in on the thief, well perhaps not the thief she was apparently quite wrong about the whole Narv thing. She really needed to stop blaming Narv. Narv was a good cavetroll. Or something like that So as she kept heading to see if Ketchup was at the Morannon after all there seemed to be a bit of activity there and honestly Ketchup might be hungry who knew honestly as long as she stayed away from the bitey end she figured she'd have a chance of seeing if Tzu was there as well.
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The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!
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As Dwim neared Grond so he could get a better look at it, suddenly a great winged creature swooped down from the sky. At first he thought it was coming straight for him, but with a great gust of wind it flew over him then swooped back around and landed on Grond itself. The creature was Ketchup, the Fell Beast, and the air around the Morannon now carried the stench of the beast. Atop its back was a brave rider. Upon closer inspection, Dwim thought the rider looked suspiciously like someone he'd seen at the pub earlier. It looked like Taethowen.

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Could Naelia have been right to assume the thief was hiding out somewhere in Shelob's Lair? The only way to find out is that she had to make her way back there and hope that Her Ladyship was still busy expanding her territory. "This thief sure gets around!" the minioness thought to herself as she continued to track Taethowen out of the Dark Tower and back towards Mordor's secret "back door" as some liked to refer to it (even though it was probably more of a side door).

"Was this person trying to take the Pink Tricycle back to where it originally came from?" Naelia wondered as she continued to track them through her native homeland. "If they were, then good riddance!" the minioness thought to herself, though she knew that the big bosses that controlled this land weren't about to let that happen (since no matter how it ended up in the Dark Land, they weren't about to let it disappear to be used by those that adhered to the light against them, or whatever it was that the free folk did with such items).
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No she wasn't right . This couldn't possibly be right however it appeared to be so so she changed tracks while she was already in the Morannon, and she was still questioning if it was Tzu. But if it was not Ketchup what would be important enough? EXTRAVEGANT ENOUGH, to have Tzu possibly want to steal it? GROND! Yes that was what she needed to be looking for. She was certain that would have Tzus attention well enough that she'd steal it. She had to be getting closer she was certain of it. She snuck around trying to see if she could find Tzu and how hard would it be to find Grond honestly? Wasn't it suppose to be Huge? She honestly wasn't sure she'd never seen it before.

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They’d had enough of the pub (in actuality, Írimë threw them out for trying to set the bar on fire) and thus Fleeg and Reg were off ChAoSiNg in all sorts of BrO-lIkE ways. Fleeg had an idea he called a fast ball special. All it would require from Reg, sweet stupid Reg, was to throw him. Fleeg thought nothing could be simpler. Naturally, Fleeg was wrong. Reg had no idea what a fast ball special was so when the goblin told the orc to throw him as hard as he could, he ended up two feet away and one foot deep in ash. Fleeg, upon pulling himself out of the muck (where he landed just happened to be where his handlers took Ketchup the Fell Beast to use the bathroom), decided it was a good idea to yell at Reg. Again, Fleeg was wrong.

Fleeg could not believe Reg had never heard of a fast ball special! Hadn’t Reg ever watched that humans play baseball? Oh… no? Really? Huh. Fleeg was taken aback. He thought everyone watched baseball. He did. Mig did. Granted, Fleeg had no idea what the game was supposed to be about because they never used the bats and the balls the try and kill each other but he loved it, nonetheless. Mig, for his part, loved the stats because he was a nerd. He would sit in his little booth with Jorgy (again with that weird little Hobbit thing) and Lailorn (looking very much alive despite Reg’s claims to have thrown her to a fell beast to be eaten whole).

So Reg hadn’t heard of a fast ball special, had never watched baseball, and threw Fleeg into a pile of fell beast dung. Midmornings had gone worse (yes they were kicked out of a bar before noon, what of it?). There was a debate now, though, about where to engage in some chAOs BRo behavior. Reg wanted the Dark Tower, a like a doof, and Fleeg, the king of turd blossoms, wanted to go to the Morannon. So where did they end up? Find out next time!
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It was a relief when she left Cirith Ungol behind, and headed for The Morannon instead now. She'd had quite enough of long, steep, narrow trails and was ready for some flat lands to tread across. On her way, she overheard some other thief hunters talking about someone called Taethowen, though she couldn't quite figure out if the woman was supposed to be riding the cursed tricycle or Ketchup the Fell Beast. If it was the fell beast, then Taethowen must be fierce.

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When we last saw our heroes, they were bouncing about like a couple of chAotIc pinballs in an especially ashy pinball machine. Reg was stomping around, fists in the air and full of exasperation for his feces-covered brO, who was insisting that he was a baseball and ought to be chucked at the next person they saw.

"You really think I want to touch you now you're covered in Ketchup the Fell Beast's poo?" Reg roared at Fleeg. "And I know what baseball is, you son of a booger." He rolled his eyes. Just because he didn't care about odd stats like ERA (Earned Ruin Average) or OBP (Orodruin Blood Parasites) didn't mean he didn't know what baseball WAS. Sweet Melkor's earwax, Fleeg! "And don't you dare mention that Mig to me!" he went on, growling at the mention of Fleeg's nerdy older brother. "He's almost as big a pile o' guano as you or Uruva."

"I'll only go to The Morannon with you if you let me punt you off the top of Barad-dûr later," Reg offered reasonably, spreading his hands helplessly to indicate this was the best he could offer his herMAnO. "You can even wear a bungee cord if you wan'." He failed to mention that the bungee cord he'd brought with him was very old and very frayed in several places. Hehe.
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The thief has NOT been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!


Please note that Shelob's Lair is a TRAP, and not a location on the hiding places list!
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The rider of Ketchup the Fell Beast, who looked like Taethowen, was not in fact Taethowen. Dwim had been given Akrag's old "Book of Faces". His thief-hunting predecessor had compiled a big book of faces and figures which he'd sketched. They were all suspects and criminals that the orc had hunted over the years. It had been accompanied by another book, the "Book of Footprints". Dwim flicked through the ratty old book but he could not find the mysterious looking rider on any of the pages. In comparing the pictures, the hobbit began to realise that the figure's garb looked more like that of a lieutenant of Barad-dûr than a rider of Rohan. That was when he'd quickly realised that his previous accusation was wrong.

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Eeeeee....... She was punted thoroughly but something, she wasn't sure what entirely but she was no longer searching the Morannon. no. She had somehow learned out to fly, the question was did she know how to land. She had a horrible feeling that no. No she could not land. However She was making straight for Barad- Dur so perhaps she could somehow find something soft to land on there. Like a spider or Frost or something. She wasn't sure. or Maybe if she was lucky Ketchup would be there and would catch her. Probably eat her too but who knew.
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If there was anyone worse than Jorgy Underash, it was that bartender, Frost, or whatever stupid presumptuous name the man went by. What kind of a name is Frost anyway? It’s not scary or ominous or cool. It’s dumb. It’s dumb and he’s dumb and all of this is dumb. Fleeg and Reg, upon a arriving at Barad-dûr (the Morannon had been nothing but a huge bust, and not a good one), spotted the Númenórean skulking about. Normally, Fleeg wouldn’t have given two dung hills (equal to Reg’s brain power) about him but Reg was so weirded out that he cancelled the flight! Fleeg had been so excited about getting punted off the top of the Dark Tower that he'd made a rudimentary pair of wings to flap about and a banner to the to his feet that everyone would have been able to see. He had spent, well minutes writing that sign. “REG WANTS TO STEAL URUVA'S CATS” it was going to read. But all that effort was wasted because the great oaf and a half couldn't bear the sight of a shirtless Númenórean. Why was he shirtless, actually? Reg brought up a valid point, the dude had less and less clothing and more and more ladies around every single time he saw him. Humans are weird. Fleeg could attract a goblin ladies attention by riding around her house in a Pink Tricycle for three days and nights. She’d then display her acceptance of his courtship by throwing a giant centipede at him. That how he got his wife after all! Though the bites he got from that centipede on their honeymoon still ached after all these weeks of marriage.
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It was after she was halfway across the Morannon that she heard another rumor. Apparently, Frost had been trying to steal the Pink Tricycle all along to give to his strange kobold child. If she wanted to catch him in the act, she needed to get back to Cirith Ungol, and quickly! It seemed that climbing long, winding stairs on steep, narrow paths was her doom after all.

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OOC@Moriel: Sorry about that, I probably got the locations mixed up!

Naelia now found herself searching through Cirith Ungol, hoping that her Ladyship was still busy expanding her territory elsewhere. "Man, this thief is a crafty one!" the minioness thought to herself, as she continued to try to pinpoint the thief's exact hiding spot.

To her astonishment, Naelia nearly tripped over the Pink Tricyle while she was heading around a corner, convinced that she saw Lailorn dart in that general direction. "Oh ho! The plot thickens!" the minioness thought to herself, keeping a watchful eye out for Shelob whilst hunting down the latest thief that thought that they could take something from the Land of Shadow.
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Regdûsh was annoyed. So annoyed. So, so annoyed. WHY could that Frost guy not keep his shirt on?!??! Whether or not Frost was mad, the expression "keep your shirt on" could apply quite literally to that slick ladies' man. Reg kicked at a passing chicken when Fleeg started berating him for being too afraid to sneak past the half-naked bartender to get into the Barad-dûr. "'s not my fault he's not wearing a shirt!" Reg ranted. "Go tell 'im to dress like a proper person! Then we can talk about puttin' yer Balrog-blessed wings on!" Reg shook his head. At this point, it would be much easier to just hitch a ride to the top of the tower on Ketchup the Fell Beast. Where was that beastie, anyway? Perhaps he was off seeing the sights for once, on a well-earned day off. Who knew the ways of Nazgûl and their steeds, though. Reg certainly didn't. Reg didn't know much, really, though he would never, ever, ever admit that to Fleeg Phlegmson.
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The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!
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She was thinking she was gonna land in Barad-dur however clearly that was not the case she gulped worried not sure where she was going to land. And then she saw what looked like where she would be landing.... Cirith Ungol looked like her current landing place, she was still very much hoping to use Ketchup as a landing pad. I mean she could be in danger of dealing with Shelob knowing full well Cirith Ungol was her lair but hopefully she could avoid that. Frost she could land on them to, it wouldn't hurt her feelings if she squished him in her landing.
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It became quite clear, rather quickly, that the Lieutenant of Barad-dûr had landed the Fell Beast for a reason. Very soon after landing, the beast began scooping up orcs, tearing them apart with her hideously sharp teeth, then forcing them down her throat with a struggle. Like a seagull trying to swallow a Dorito whole. She must have been terribly hungry and landed for a feed. Dwim did not understand how the orcs were fitting down the passage of her neck, but somehow she was making it work. He also didn't know why the lieutenant found it necessary to make a show of this in front of the audience at the Black Gate.

But perhaps the Fell Beast was overindulging, because she began to suffer from what looked like indigestion. What at first was just a hideous belching type of noise, soon became a retching action. The smell coming from each retch was almost too much for the hobbit to handle, even at the safe distance he was watching from. Then all of a sudden, after many painful retches, there came a disgusting explosion of vomit from her mouth. Legs and arms and heads covered in gross goop flew out over the crowds of orcs standing by the gate. Other strange things came out of her too. Swords, shields, livestock and other things. And something very strange stood out among the puddle of spew, a pink tricycle. Why on earth had the beast eaten a tricycle?

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“If Frost would just put on a shirt…” Fleeg mocked Reg, pantomiming his oafish BrO'S scaredy cat whining. “Get over yourself you buffoon! He’s just a guy! Would you be seeing your pants if off was Dwim?” Fleeg looked at his companion and rolled his eyes. “Don’t answer that, of course you would. And you call yourself an orc! A big orc like you, scared of a tiny little Hoppit! Just wait until I tell everyone your deepest, darkest fear!”

Fleeg kneed Regdûsh in the groin and smeared some the left over fell beast poo on his face. Before his ChaOS brO could react, Fleeg was off, running as fast as him ugly green limbs would carry him. Sadly, his legs were very out if shape and Fleeg got shin splints halfway out of the shadow of Barad-dûr and fell to the wayside, crying like a wounded goat.

Who should appear then, riding up triumphantly on a Pink Tricycle? None other than Fleeg’s blushing bride! Wait a second, why is she carrying that mace? Why was she getting off the tricycle with that evil grin? Oh… oh no! She’d just found out they were married! Fleeg was in deep trouble.
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When she had, once more, (with hips and thighs and calves screaming at her once again) reached the summit of Cirith Ungol, she was surprised to find that the Pink Tricycle was indeed there, but there was no sign of the thief she had expected. Rather, skulking in the shadows, she thought she saw a... much shorter form than she had anticipated. It must be that hobbit, Dwim!

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"Dwim this, Dwim that, why don't you just go MARRY Dwim if you love him so much!" Reg thundered at his scrawny chAos brO. "I ain' scared of him, you miserable beemonger! That Frost guy just gives me the creeps."

The great hairy orc doubled over for a moment when Fleeg kneed him in the groin, but only for a moment because Fleeg wasn't actually that strong. In fact, it was rather like being slapped with a green onion. Reg knew this because he'd been slapped by his fair share of green onions in his day; it was a common hazing ritual in the frat his bookish brother had joined at Cirith Ungol University, and Art had brought the ritual home to fend off Reg when he attacked him during "quiet reading time." It was mostly ineffective, and Art had the scars to prove it.

Regdûsh's plan to slit Fleeg's throat with his papery fairy wings was interrupted by the sudden appearance of his stupid chAos bRo's bride! What was she doing here?! Didn't she know that brO time was sacred!?!? Reg gritted his teeth, then screamed. "I'm no prayin' orc, but if you're out there, Ketchup the Fell Beast, come take this scheming wench away!!!"
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As Naelia continued to search Cirith Ungol for the elusive thief, she made sure to keep a lookout for traps, even though she hadn't run across one in a while, but you never knew what was going through the mind of someone who was desparate.

As she was coming to a particularly dangerous part of the location she was sure the thief was hiding out in, the minioness could have sworn she saw Jorgy, who seemed to be of the race of Halflings, dart out as if something big were after him. "Oh please don't tell me I've come across her Ladyship once again." Naelia thought to herself as she began to track him, almost running into the Pink Trycycle. "If the Lord of this land permits it, I can easily rid the Land of Shadow of such items." the minioness thought to herself, since the item in question always seemed to be popping up in the most odd places, usually in Naelia's way as some sort of distraction to possibly throw her off the trail of the person responsible for trying to take such an item.
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DING DING DING!

The thief has been caught!! @Fuin Elda has successfully apprehended that promiscuous thief Frost in his hiding place in Cirith Ungol, where he had made off with Ketchup the Fell Beast. Fuin, you are now a Minion First Rank Hunter! Nothing special happens.

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!
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Umoya landed witha bit of a splat, it was not a very good landing like she had figured it might be. However she was very quickly swept up...mopped up? she wasn't sure what the correct term is for what she was but she was reconstituted as a whole Haradrim. She staggered to her feet her head was pounding after all she had been a put back together off of bouncing off of a giant fell beast it was surprising she was in as good of shape as she was...

She tottered sideways and over the edge of the pass and had to be reconstituted again as it were, this time they were smart enough not to do it on the top of a very high precipice. that said they did make out a few things as she howled in pain at a second reconstituting.
"PEARL!"
"GROBBY THAT HAIRLESS PARROT"
and
"THE SHADOWS"

Needless to say after that it was recommended that reconstitution only be done once per day after that because none of it made sense.
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Fleeg, caught between his wife and his friend (both of whom wanted him dead), did the only thing that made any sense to him: he ran. It wasn’t courageous, in fa t it was the most cowardly thing he could have done. But he was a goblin and courage wasn’t a trait goblins were well known for. Deviousness, treachery, ingenuity. Yes, yes, and yes. Courage got one killed, or pressed into the army as bodyguards for the higher ups. Fleeg had no interest in either. Screaming like a goat set on fire, Fleeg made his way through the Black Market, upsetting apple carts (crab apples obviously), tearing through tents (avoiding his own murder hornet tent naturally), and bounding over thatched roof (not a sound investment in the Black Lands, next to an active volcano). He ran a zig-zag pattern, doing his absolute best to lose both Reg and Bubosha. He was not sure who he feared more. Thinking he’d lost them, Fleeg needed a place to hide. The pub was out, that was the first (and probably only) place Reg would look. Bubosha would be harder to fool. Perhaps… perhaps… a wickedly dumb idea took shape in Fleeg's purile brain. It was barely even an idea, more a “what’s the closest building next to me" plan. However, The Halls of Injustice would have to do just fine. Bubosha worked there right? She’d never expect her erstwhile husband to be hiding right under her nose.

There would be, of course, people to have to pay off and false trails to create to give him time to formulate... what, another escape? An excuse? A new identity? Fleeg hadn’t actually thought that far ahead yet. If he could get a message to Blinky and pay him enough whatever it was lava snakes wanted, he could distract Reg endlessly. He could slither in circles around Reg, and his CHAos brO would never be able to catch him. Fleeg crapt (unholy Melkor, Reg’s dimwitted inner monologue was infecting him!) down to the patent office with the Halls and man aged to steal some paper and an envelope. Fleeg then realized a giant, illiterate snake sized hole in his plan. Blinky was a lava snake. Lava snakes didn’t read. Lava snakes also didn’t have addresses. Well, not one to be tied down by common sense, the owner of a murder hornet apiary wrote his plea and put it in the outgoing mail slot.

That done, Fleeg decided he was going to congratulate himself by stealing a Cat-O'-Nine-Tails. Why and where a cat with nine tails was hiding were mere inconveniences to the tireless intellect of Fleeg Phlegmson. Mother would be so proud of him! Now to get some catnip.
Last edited by Akhenanat on Wed Sep 30, 2020 10:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Disappointed in herself after that last round of thief-hunting, she debated for a bit whether the career change from maid to thief-hunting would be a worthwhile one for her. But, alas, the maid position had already been filled when she went to inquire about getting her old job back, and so thief-hunting it was. For now.

She made her way to The Halls of Injustice rather reluctantly, and scowled at the very vague set of requests. How could this be called thief-hunting when she has to determine where the thief was hiding, what they had stolen, and who they were?

Really, this was just taking a shot in the dark.

It was as ridiculous as Gwai stealing the One Ring.

Orc Chieftain
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"At least I got the location right." Naelia thought to herself when she heard the results of the last hunt. Even though Shelob was busy elsewhere, the minioness was glad to be out of her original lair and began the hunt for a new thief. "Will these thieves never learn?" Naelia thought to herself as she began wandering through The Shadows hoping the current thief hadn't set a trap for her (since it happened one time before when she ended up in this location, so she liked to be on the lookout for anything unexpected, so to speak).

While searching through the area for the elusive thief, the minioness came across the Hauberk of Angmar hidden in the last place she expected. "I haven't come across this item in a while." Naelia thought to herself as she continued to search the area to track down the thief's exact hiding spot. As she was searching behind some bushes, she could just make out the weapons that someone like Uruva might carry and decided to see if her suspicions were correct.
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He who commands the Ruling Ring... commands all

Black Númenórean
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Fleeg had fled, and Reg was left in the little trouser snake's dust. "Hmmmph!" Reg growled, baring his teeth menacingly. Unfortunately, no one was around to see this display of his mighty fangs, as Fleeg's wife had screeched with glee and ridden off on her pink tricycle, probably to hunt down her good-for-nothing husband. For all the contempt with which he treated his wife, it would serve Fleeg right if he was devoured by One George, or two, even. Look at yourself, Reg! Taking the side of that foul gold-diggin' hag! Argh augh!

It was time to do some of his best thinking work. “All righ', brain. You don’ like me and I don’ like you, but let’s jus' do this and I can get back to killin' you with alcohol,” Reg muttered as he trundled off to - NOT the pub, for the love of Sauron, Fleeg - Minas Morgûl! Reg had heard that the Witch-King had a special stash of especially potent spirits, and it couldn't hurt to grab some as he looked for his stupid cHaoS brO to try and save him from his wife's clutches. (Reg did not realize that these were soul-type spirits trapped in bottles of varying shapes, but really, what did it matter? He was already on his way.)

Along the way, he caught and devoured a wee Ducky, feathers and all. It was delicious. All the meal needed, really, was some taters. He gave a loud belch and licked the blood from his hairy hands, then shuffled away in search of his soAhc oRb.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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


@Zôrzimril, within Minas Morgûl you have stumbled upon a Variety of Snakes! Here the thief has left a variety of poisonous and non-poisonous snakes to attack whoever enters. You are bitten and must RP your way out of the situation before hunting again.
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Balrog
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Fleeg was doing well. He was stuck in The Halls of Injustice, but he was hidden. Neither Búbosha nor Regdûsh had found him. Had his letter reached Blinky? Had the lava snake managed to distract his ChAos BRo with something like a variety of snakes? Fleeg had a feeling this was the case, that or Reg had merely bumbled unto the snakes on his own, too busy eating the fungus growing from his belly button to pay attention to the loud hissing and rattling. Either way, Fleeg would take it. Naturally, Fleeg didn't want his HeRmano dE cAOs to die (not yet at least). A bit of a distraction, perhaps a trip to the hospital… wait. Is there a hospital in Mordor? Seems like something that should exist, and be utterly, utterly terrible. And a corn maze! What? What does a corn maze have to do with an evil hospital? Unless this is a Halloween thing. Probably. Who knows what exists in The Shadows of Fleeg’s non Euclidean mind.

One thing was on his mind. Fleeg needed to pee. But he was stuck in a closet. Did he dare just… no! He was a goblin! Not a human child! Yes sometimes they were one and the same and those were wonderful but this was not the case. Fleeg needed to pee! With a crash, he tumbled out of the closet and was immediately buried under a shelf of pens, paper, and sticky notes. Winddancer, inexplicably ignored in her petition against a Rohir, was stalking the Halls at that very moment and came to investigate the crash. Oh no! When Fleeg saw those terrifying red eyes he thought he was done for. He closed his eyes, prayed to Melkor to take his soul, and waited to die.

But death never came. He opened his eyes and looked up at the uber scary AF elf and she looked back at him. Fleeg was too dumbfounded to speak and she didn’t because… well this is Fleeg's POV so we'll never find out. After what seemed like thirty minutes, the elf assassin demon finally spoke. “Where’s the One George you owe me?”

Whaaaaaaaaaaaat!?
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

High Lord of Imladris
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Her head was right pounding and she had a few more choice words for it that will not be mentioned here as she put her hand to her head. Was that her PINKY in the place her index finger should be? What? She was not having a good time but at least she was no longer staggering around mumbling inane babble, though apparently she'd kept herself in the hunt that was good, she decided and she slipped to see if she could find out if in fact she was right about Grobby and the Shadows. She wanted to find something to drink to keep her mind off of the pounding headache she had, and her first reaction was of course to blame Sil, it was always her first reaction to blame Sil whenever anything went wrong but this this felt different.

This time she was thinking that perhaps it was Jorgy to blame for her headache.

Orc Chieftain
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As Naelia continued to hunt down Mordor's latest thief, she found herself in the Halls of Injustice, since every thief that thought that they could get away with stealing something from the Land of Shadow thought that they could lead her on a wild goose chase, as it were. "Right, like Mordor has any kind of wild goose," the minioness thought to herself, "but I have come across a chicken or rooster, does that count?" though how such fowl ended up in the Dark Land was anybody's guess.

As she was contemplating this, she once again came across the Hauberk of Angmar, hidden in the most likely of places. "Are these thieves running out of armour, and think they can steal ours?" Naelia thought to herself as she noticed that somebody was snickering just past the next pillar. It was none other than Dwim, thinking that he had pulled the wool over her eyes once again. "That halfling is going to be the death of me. Unfortunately for him, it's not going to be today!" the minioness thought to herself as she continued to track the person that didn't belong in such a place.
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He who commands the Ruling Ring... commands all

Black Númenórean
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As Reg tottered through the mist toward Minas Morgûl, a vague hissing sound reached him. He dug his hairy pinkies into his ears, hoping the noise was just some earworms going at it again. Alack and alas! The hissing persisted and grew, if anything, louder. He stopped and patted his ears with his palms. Really, what was the deal!? Had Fleeg cursed him? No, Fleeg was definitely not a magical being. Was he secretly hitching a ride on Reg's back without detection and pranking him by hissing into his ears like this, then ducking anytime Reg craned his neck around? Reg craned his neck around and jumped about wildly to throw Fleeg off, just in case he was there. It seemed pretty boring and tame for Fleeg, but he had to make sure. While the hairy orc was busy with this wild jumping dance, the hissing crescendoed as a huge variety of snakes emerged from the creepy mists of Minas Morgûl and attacked.

"ARRRRGGHHHH!" Reg roared as they sunk their fangs into his feet and slithered up his legs. "Blinky! Issat you!? What's going on?!" Reg spun in place, attempting to fling off the snakes by sheer centrifugal force. It kind of worked, and he was left with only a couple hanging on with their fangs sunk into his arms. He plucked them off carelessly, ripped off their heads, and ate their bodies. What? He wasn't about to waste more food. Anyway. Where was he? Right. Saving Fleeg from his weirdo gold digger bride!
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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


@Zôrzimril, you may now hunt again!
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Storyteller
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Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 9:09 am
Gosh, Dwim had been way off once again. That served him right for going sightseeing anyway. He had to get his mind back on thief hunting and come up with a new strategy.

The first strategy he came up with would be to hunt around the Black Market. Last time he was there, he was certain he was going to find some stolen goods, but Naelia had ran him out real quick before he could do any real investigating. Anyway, the market was the most likely place to find thieves and stolen goods, so he headed back there.

The first thing he heard when he arrived was a shop keeper complaining that something called the One George had been taken from his stall. "Excuse me," the hobbit piped up. "What exactly is a One George?" He had to know that before he could figure out who would have wanted to steal the thing. "Is there any chance that Narv may have stolen it?"

High Lord of Imladris
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DEATH always said time was of no consequence so Umoya decided it was time to look into seeing if DEATH himself had slipped into the Black Market and made off with Grobby. Of course Umoya was also curious of Grobby merited the sword or the scythe. Something she didn't figure she'd find out until she ended up getting 'released from the mortal coils' as it were. Coils. Coils belonged to snakes snakes were bad. maybe Jorgy could give her pointers on avoiding snakes he seemed like he knew a lot.

Balrog
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Oh, thank the Lidless Eye! Fleeg was beside himself with relief. Winddancer realized her mistake; she thought Fleeg was some other goblin that had agreed to steal her One George from the company of seven. Fleeg was allowed to live for another day! He rejoiced! Well, play he didn’t. He had only managed to convince the terrifying starspawn that he was the wrong goblin. He had, in fact, completely forgotten that he had agreed to procure one of the monster weasels for her. Another day, another problem for everyone’s favorite goblin. Maybe it was time to make up with Reg and hunt this thing down.

That of course, was a problem. Not the making up with Reg part, that would be easy. All that would require was a barrel full of whatever Reg’s favorite liquor happened to be that day, getting him piss drunk with it, then hatching a devious plot with him as he faded into unconsciousness (Fleeg, naturally, would draw all sorts of things on his passed out friend, slather him in honey and horrible goose feather, and give him a unicorn horn). The problem was finding a way to get Reg to leave his snake pit in Minas Morgûl. Fleeg had no idea why he was still there, probably asking the snakes that bit him if they’d seen Blinky. Oh! That’s right! Fleeg needed to get over to his apiary at the Black Market and get the letter from Blinky that he assumed would be there.

Now just to sneak out of the Halls of Injustice, avoiding his wife for the time being (going home was going to be awkward as fred). He saw Thalionwen berating a clerk for screwing up her patent form (Form WD-40 if anyone wanted to know) and thought of a plan. “Allo!” he said in his most genial, toothy grin (which for the record is horrible, green, and sharp). “I couldn’t help but overhear you had a problem. They have so many forms to fill out here it’s ridiculous. Lucky for you though, my brother is a whiz at them, loves ‘em. Weird right? Anyway, I’d love to help you out. Shall we?” If he pretended to be escorting her out, maybe he could escape notice.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Orc Chieftain
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Joined: Sun Sep 06, 2020 6:23 pm
Could Naelia have tracked down the item in question already? As she continued to track the elusive thief that somehow managed to make off with the Hauberk of Angmar, the minioness now found herself wandering through the Black Market. "I hope her Ladyship has moved back to her original lair." Naelia thought to herself as she was a bit iffy of any location where she ran into traps in the past.

Whilst wandering through the different areas of the Market (keeping a close eye out for anything out of the ordinary, in case the thief wanted to trap her once again), she came across none other than Taethowen, trying to conceal her identity as a means to throw any that were closing in off her trail. "Do these thieves really think that trying to hide their identity will save them from capture?" the minioness thought to herself as she continued to track someone that was obviously up to no good (which in this case was frowned upon, since most minions were guilty of some kind of wrong doing, but knew when to draw the line).
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He who commands the Ruling Ring... commands all

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place HAS been found!


@This is Fine, within Minas Morgûl you have stumbled upon a Variety of Snakes! Here the thief has left a variety of poisonous and non-poisonous snakes to attack whoever enters. You are bitten and must RP your way out of the situation before hunting again.
Image
Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Storyteller
Points: 1 509 
Posts: 1300
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 9:09 am
"No, it was Taethowen!" yelled the stall-owner in reply.

Taethowen? These thief hunts always seemed to revolve around her. Dwim still didn't know what the One George even was, or why it was worth her stealing it, but he knew once he caught Taeth it would all become clear. Where in the Black Market had she got to though? Maybe she was hiding out in the tattoo shop. He headed there to have a look.

Black Númenórean
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Minas Morgûl had been a bust. Not only was Reg covered in snake bites (some painfully swollen and maybe poisoned?), but he'd forgotten to get his potent spirits! What a waste of time and effort. Fortunately, the trip there had given him a bit of time to think. Fleeg's wife only wanted him for his money. Fleeg presumably made a little bit of money from his business ventures, even if he was also hemorrhaging coin just to keep them open. So, Reg reasoned, it was time to burn down Fleeg's stupid stall at the stupid Black Market! Reg knew his cHaOS brO had not been smart enough to purchase fire insurance (so dumb), and that this loss would ruin him. Hehe! He stuffed one of his handkerchiefs into a bottle of spirits and lit the cloth on fire.

Before he could cast it at the apiary and its enclosing, though, who should show up but a lady! She said her name was Thalionwen and how dare he set a fire where there were so many orcs and goblins and even a few people. Regdûsh was just about to tell her to shove off when the flames licked the alcohol and the fire bloomed around his hand. He screamed and ran in circles to find a way to extinguish the fire. Grobby was lurking about but would be of absolutely NO help as he breathed fredding fire, for Fred's sake, so Reg plunged into a nearby water tank filled with mini Watchers in the Water and hoped they would not strangle him too much.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Orc Chieftain
Points: 648 
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Joined: Sun Sep 06, 2020 6:23 pm
As Naelia continued to search through the Black Market, she came across someone that she hadn't suspected; Narv, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. "Now why would he do that if he doesn't have something to hide?" the minioness thought to herself as she began to track this new "person of interest" as it were. As she was following him around the next corner, she came across the Hauberk of Angmar hidden in plain sight. Because of this, Naelia wondered if the reason that some thieves tried to take something from the Land of Shadow is because if they had such items, perhaps they were damaged beyond repair and they thought that they could steal similar items from the Dark Land. "Good luck on that one." the minioness scoffed as she continued to track this new contender.
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He who commands the Ruling Ring... commands all

Balrog
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Time and space. They have no meaning to one so charismatic as Fleeg! With but a few words, a phrase, a clause, Fleeg can travel from the Halls of Injustice to Minas Morgûl. This was a power that only existed within the bounds of Mordor, only the highest, most revered minions of The Lidless Eye and the Lord of the Nazgûl could have. And Fleeg was one of those minions! He followed all the laws and statutes they passed down. He’d killed his way to the top (including the previous owner of the apiary tent) and had been granted this warping power.

What he wasn’t able to do, apparently, was avoid the same stupid pit of snakes that Reg had landed in. REG!!!!

He knew that saucy pox-marked malcontent was behind this! Why else would there be a giant writhing mass of serpents looking to… why are they looking him like that? No! Fleeg was not food! Fleeg was friend! Why was he talking like that?

One bite, two bites, three bites.

Fleeg screamed like a goat, the normal sign of goblinoid distress. That scared the snakes enough, or at least confused them enough, to buy him time to escape and run down the creepy, eerily lit green corridors. Why did it smell like star anise in here?
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
The thief HAS been found!
The item HAS been found!
The hiding place has NOT been found!


@This is Fine, you may now hunt again!
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Storyteller
Points: 1 509 
Posts: 1300
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 9:09 am
Yep, there she was! Taethowen was there at the tattoo shop, getting a tattoo of Minas Morgul on her thigh. He had to play it cool though, he could not yet accuse her of being a thief without sufficient evidence.

"Hey, no walk-ins!" the shop owner yelled at the hobbit. "If you want a tattoo, you'll have to make an appointment. Feel free to have a look through my flash book though..."

Dwim was a bit intimidated, so he obeyed and had a look in her book. There was some scary art in there. Fire, eyeballs, severed hands, and horrible things like that. As he flicked through the artwork, he began to wonder if she might possibly have a sketch in there of the stolen thing he'd been searching for.

"Say, you don't happen to have a drawing of the One George in here do you?" he asked, as he still did not know what it looked like.

Locked