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Tara was in for a bit of a surprise. Although she had found the life form she was looking for, she'd also found many more--an ambush! The Ash-cloud people honked their aggressive honks and began shooting projectiles at her from a distance, and she was completely vulnerable. She rushed for cover (the ashen cloud did not help, for these people had lived in it since birth and had adapted. Or so it was said. They covered their faces, naturally, living in a cloud of ash, and so you could not tell if their facial features had mutated or even if they were human.) and discovered more Ash-cloud people waiting for her. When she was brought into melee, she lasted nary more than a few seconds. Dropping to the ground, she passed out. What she did not know was that someone, an old legend, was looking out for her. While she was unconscious, she would be rescued.

Gwai sat on the bank outside the tar pit next to Frost and Zôr, a bit surprised, albeit relieved, that she was still alive. The Cloud of Ash was proving to be quite a dangerous place. She was fairly certain she had seen the ghost of Zaram earlier, and would not have been surprised to have joined her as another ghost. Thick black tar slowly dripped from her extremities, and getting quite close to being caked on in a semipermanent manner. A bath would be lovely, but probably not to be found. Lunch was the next best thing.

She followed Frost to the pub for a bite of grilled Lava Snake. It tasted like chicken, with a bit more spice than usual. Not too bad. Was this on the pub menu? It probably should be. Frost was a good barbecuer. She was still a bit miffed at him after the hoppit darts. Apparently he knew of another hoppit, Jorgy, and had made no effort to bring the hoppit into the game. Lack of targets contributed greatly toward her loss, but this meal was going a long way toward her forgiving Frost.

Zôr had just pulled Gwai from the tar when a loud voice yelled in her ear. She jumped and nearly let go of the Rohir's hand, then laughed upon realizing it was just Frost. "Yes I did, love," she murmured. "Were you getting worried?"

Gwai having made it safely out of the tar (and no signs of the wizard, hmmm), Zôr took in the fascinating situation: three tar-soaked people, two of whom had been playing hide and seek, one of whom had killed a hoppit with darts, and a bunch of alcohol. Not how she imagined the game ending, but Zôr would roll with the punches.

Without a word, she followed Frost and Gwai out of the Cloud of Ash and to the pub. Soon the aromatic scent of grilled snake filled the place, punctuated by the tangy zest of the cactus. She had never eaten cactus before, so she was looking forward to this. Frost was introducing her to all sorts of things.

Zôr felt only mildly odd about eating Lava Snake when she so badly wanted one for a companion. In fact, this feeling was intensified by rumors of one particular snake who'd somehow transformed into a hobbit. What had been his name? Jorgum? Jorguts? Jorgy? Yes, that was it. The hoppit was called Jorgy. While Zôr had no problems with torturing the little creatures, she did not relish the idea of eating one.

Pearl was in for a treat! An absolutely magnificent treat. She had been so wonderful in helping Jorgy understand all the ins and outs and upside downs of being a Hobbit that he felt he should do something as equally educational and fun for her. Naturally, in Jorgy's mind at least, that meant going around all the places in Mordor that he found interesting and telling her all about it. It was a scary place, yes, but with Jorgy as her guide, she would not have to hide Beneath a Rock.

First thing’s first though, he needed to make sure Pearl would be warm and Toasty at night, when the temperature could drop faster than the ale at one of Silas parties. In order to get the right kind of fabric though, he was going to need to find a woman named Gwai. Gwai her name was why, no that's wrong, why her name was Gwai (there we go) was a Jorgian mystery. It was a punny name though and Jorgy found puns to be quite fantastic (Once he learned what a pun was of course).

She seemed more than accommodating, though she seemed more concerned with several different Georges. One George in particular seemed to trouble her quite a bit. Jorgy wished he could help but as he had no idea what Gwai needed and he wanted to get back to Pearl, he left the capable Rohir to her own devices, warm clothing aplenty.

Pearl peeked hesitantly around a large boulder. Her eyes widened with shock and horror as she took in the sight of the vast plains of Mordor. She considered hiding Beneath a Rock like this one but steeled her nerves, gulped, and stepped out from her place of shelter instead. It would most definitely seem rude if she suddenly refused to go any farther after her best friend Jorgy had led her all this way to show her his homeland. When he'd said he was from the South, she had thought he meant the SouthFARTHING, not the South of the whole known world as depicted on every map of Middle-Earth she'd ever seen. But here she was, trailing him as he approached a Big Person to get some fabric for a cloak or shawl or something.

She tiptoed nervously forward, fearful that One George (or several) might suddenly come rushing out of the darkness to attack her. She had no idea how she knew to fear the Georges (or how she even knew there were several), but fear them she did.

Pearl could not quite explain why she'd elected to leave her Toasty smial back home except that she really and truly enjoyed the company of her oddest friend. Even in Mordor, apparently.

It was a new day with a new thief and somehow she was alive again. Zarâm blinked, wondering if the whole thing with the falling into the pit of stakes was a nightmare. Well, at any rate, she was ready to catch another thief. With a sigh, she wondered if Thalionwen had been around at all lately. On the Rocks was certainly not the same without the lovely Rohir woman to cook delightful food. She greatly missed eating the eggs and the other day had had to resign herself to One Rotting Leg O’ Las for her dinner. Hopefully the thief could be caught quickly and easily this time, and without death.

She crossed the Morgul Vale quietly, leaving a trail only an experienced tracker would have noticed, and that with difficulty. She was used to avoiding being seen, a skill that had been put to the test more than once in the past.

Known professionally as the Whisper, Damask to her few friends, she was a professional Burglar. Word of Mordor’s rampant thief problem had reached her to the north, and, as business was slow, she had headed south to seek her fortune.

Most places had a pub of some sort, an informal place for intelligence gathering, so the Whisper made for On the Rocks. A drink would be welcome after her journey, and sitting at the bar would be a good chance to listen for information. Better than Beneath a Rock, most definitely.

It was not long before she heard of One George being missing. Simply mislaid, or stolen? She wondered. The name Toasty was mentioned more than once as well. She sipped her drink. This would be a good starting point.

The Whisper finished her drink at the pub and tossed a coin on the counter. There were more individuals here than she had anticipated, and quite a wide range of characters as well. Surely at least one or two of them would have been a thief. She felt she had overheard enough to begin her thief hunting.

The one she noted particularly, Sil, seemed particularly suspicious. She overheard a conversation about an item known as the Cat O'Nine Tails. What this was exactly, she was unsure. She casually looked up and down the street, and settled on walking toward the Ringwraith Review. It seemed an excellent opportunity to get a closer look what she suspected were likely suspects.

When Tarawen awoke, she was miraculously safe. The Ash-folk were gone, as was the cloud itself. It was very quiet, other than a muttered conversation. She looked around and peered into That Dark Corner, trying to make out who had rescued her. Her thoughts ran toward home as she did so. Her uncle would be furious and so worried! She could see in her mind's eye the Cat O' Nine Tails he had prepared for a whooping, but that he would probably end up not using as he cried in relief. This was all assuming she actually made it home. Was she even safe here? It was hard to say until she met her mysterious savior. Perhaps she had been saved merely for dinner (if you know what I mean).

Despite being a hardy hobbit who quite enjoyed camping while hiking about the Shire, Pearl had to admit that Mordor was a creepy place to spend the night. She was not very comfortable and she constantly felt as though she was going to sneeze - no doubt from the large quantities of ash drifting lazily through the air. She even thought she saw hazy Silhouettes wandering to and fro every time she started awake during the night, and though none approached the spot where she and Jorgy had camped, they still gave her goosebumps.

She missed her home, her family, and her cat. All they had in Mordor, Jorgy had told her, was a Cat O' Nine Tails, which Pearl couldn't quite wrap her head around. It was all quite strange. But she had resolved at the start of their journey to nod politely and not raise a fuss because it was Jorgy's home, after all, and she liked Jorgy - so why not give it all a chance?

She sat up and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and began peering around. There were many places on their itinerary to visit, including the Ringwraith Review. Pearl imagined this might be a place where scary hooded figures passed judgement on your deeds. She just hoped they wouldn't eat her.

It was time to bed down for the night. Jorgy made sure he brought all his camping and walking gear this time. He didn’t want to be left with no blankets or no bonbons. Never again! He had learned from Pearl that one must never be without necessities, whatever those necessities may be. The necessities for this trip were vast and varied and Jorgy had a pack that Narv the Cave Troll might have found difficult to carry, but for Pearl, Jorgy would carry anything. Some one those things that were brought made very little sense to the definitely fully Hobbit, like Sil-as’ paw’s monocle (what an embarrassment that had been to find it out wasn’t a yo-yo), an actual yo-yo that he bought at the farmer’s market, and a sack of purple potatoes.

That night he dreamed of the strangest cat. It was a Cat-O’-Nine-Tails. What a scary looking cat! He remembered seeing an old tomcat (or was it a michaelcat or a stevencat?) yowl and hiss at him when he tried to pet them and they only had the one tail! Just imagining a cat like that with nine tails. Oh goodness it doesn’t bear thinking about. Still though, he needed to confront this cat, what if it tried to go after Pearl? Even though it was all just a dream, this was Mordor and you could never be to careful.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of ale, bacon, biscuits, and fried cactus (apparently it grew aplenty in Mordor but some people didn’t know that and did silly things like jump in tar pits to get it). It was delicious. This was going to be a very fun morning for the Hobbit duo. They were going to go to the Ringwraith Review and be a part of all the unhelpful answers that people would get to their questions. It was going to be a blast!

Apparently hunting the thief had become a group exercise, much to Zarâm's amusement. But, at least at the moment she had no interest in joining in on the hunting party and prefered to search alone. With a shake of her head, she headed towards Grobby's Cupboard in the kitchen. With any luck, Grobby would be in there and for all she knew, the odd little creature could easily be hiding the Mouth of Sauron’s Toothbrush. It could use a toothbrush at any rate, that much Zarâm was certain of.

Another morning dawned, or at least that’s what Jorgy thought as He quite literally rolled out of bed. It was not easy to tell when morning came in Mordor, the amount of thick clouds made one reliant of an internal clock more than anything. It didn’t seem like Pearl was awake yet so Jorgy took the opportunity to take out his favorite book, “Why David Day Sucks,” by Elenhir. Jorgy couldn’t read all the big words, but he loved all the pictures. He'd shown Dwim the book once and the Hobbit found it quite hilarious, though he called it a bit mean. Jorgy wondered what Pearl would think of it. Surely she'd find it just as funny.

But it was going to be breakfast time soon and Jorgy wasn’t going to wait for the dinner bell's One Ring to get ready. There was no dinner bell of course, but sufficive to say, Jorgy was ready. He made scrambled eggs (don’t ask what kind of eggs) with nopales, tomatoes, and purple potato hash browns. He hoped Pearl would approve of this delicious meal.

He was sure about what they would do today. Naturally the Ringwraith Review, but what about after? Surely would be something going on or some place to visit for a meal. Hopefully it wasn’t going to be hiding in The Shadows and munching on rice cakes. Those were so dry! Oh, that’s an idea, get some ale for second breakfast.

"WHY?" shouted Zarâm as she opened the cupboard and a hoard of angry Murder Hornets flew out to greet her. "Why on earth are these creatures in here?" She swatted at the in the vain attempt to get them away from her, but that just made them even angrier. Thankfully, her thick orcish skin prevented them from doing much damage, but the stings were still a bit on the painful side. "It wouldn't be Mordor if nature didn't want to kill you," she muttered as she left the cupboard behind. She would have to have a talk with the little creature later on on what was appropriate to keep in his cupboard.

The Whisper took her time as she walked to The Shadows. She had little information as to the location of the thief, and wanted to be ready for any surprise which might overtake her. Not to mention, there was were quite a few odd characters around. For example, why were hobbits in Mordor? It struck her as the place they would want to avoid the most.

But there was apparently a ring missing. The One Ring, if rumor was to be believed. Most likely it was right where it should be, she thought to herself. But interviewing one of these suspects seemed a good way to get news. She cornered Dwim in a dark alley (in fact, it was a normal alley, but all the alleys were dark), and began her questioning. "Did you take the One Ring?" she demanded, holding tight to his shirt collar.

Just a few months ago, the sight of Jorgy even holding a book would have shocked her. And now here he was, doing a bit of light early-morning reading before breakfast?! She shook her head in amusement as she sat up and stretched. Jorgy had always been odd, so it wasn't surprising that he put off eating as soon as he woke up (unlike most hobbits), but it still made her laugh. Dwim had been among those present when Jorgy hadn't even known what second breakfast was, so she imagined her old friend would share in this amusement. Some said Dwim had gone off in search of One Ring or another to add to his collection of jools.

"An interesting book to be reading before first meal," she commented. "That David Day must be truly awful if there's a whole book about him." Pearl took a bite of the meal Jorgy had made - yet another surprise, for it was actually delicious, even if purple potatoes were a strange choice.

"Well, Jorgy, what's the plan? Will we go around or through The Shadows today?" she asked after finishing breakfast.

It turned out that Tarawen's savior was none other than the old hermit, Uruva. She had met Uruva before, but never in such a time of critical need. And it turned out that the hired help knew Uruva too--and coincidentally had a very important message for her! Tara didn't really understand the message. Something about a secret mission involving the securing of a particular bit of information on a weapon...Grond? And needing to make it safely to Minas Morgûl, but being unable to...and now Uruva was this lady's only hope. Wow, she was a pretty lady too. Tara was immediately sure that saving this woman was her number one priority, even though she was also full to bursting with questions. Yet it was difficult to move the elderly in so swift a fashion. So, questions first.

The hobbit had no idea of what The Whisper spoke of, and, not being one to be needlessly cruel, she let him go. Nobody spoke up about her treatment of him, and she hummed a tune under her breath as she went along her way, toward the Towers of No Return, enjoying her time here. She may need to stay longer.

Regretting not bringing Irimë’s Wine Stash with her, she nevertheless proceeded with her investigation. Moriel has been mentioned as someone with information, perhaps because she was the thief, and the hunt continued.

So the Ringwraith Review had been a bust. There were no silly questions to give utterly obfuscating answers to. How disappointing! Oh the wasted leftover! Instead, there were serious questions from Winddancer that Jorgy did not dare answer in a silly manner. He was a lava snake long enough to know that she was not someone you were silly around. He needed get Pearl out of there quick! What to do, what to do! He grabbed her hand and raced out of the building faster than you could say “why aren’t caffeine cheerios a thing?” and leapt into the back of a cart labelled “Moriel’s cart, keep out” but of course Jorgy couldn’t read that so he assumed he and Pearl were safe.

Little did he know that they were on their way to a place known as The Towers of No Return. He had never been there so it would have seemed perfectly logical to go there, after all they were not returning to a place you could not return from, if only he knew he was going in the first place! It would have been a logical mindbender that poor Jorgy was simply not ready to undertake, though Pearl would have been able to solve it quite quickly.

In the back of the cart, however, there was something fantastic and wonderful: Irimë’s Whine Stash! He had decided he like wine, even though Pearl was always telling him to stop whining and work on his letters. Maybe if she had some with him, she wouldn’t always tell him to stop. Which bottle though, there were so many! This was a true Jorgian conundrum.

Pearl had survived the Ringwraith Review. No one had cast judgement on her, nor had they tried to eat her. It just seemed like everyone was looking for answers to their own deeply personal sets of questions. Pearl certainly had not expected the folk of Mordor to wear their emotions on their sleeves like this. She had expected all the places in the dark land to be like the fabled Towers of No Return.

Despite the Ringwraith Review being rather innocuous, Jorgy flew into a panic and dragged her out of there and into Moriel's cart. "What the - " she began as they hid. But before she could finish swearing - a most un-ladylike thing to do, in her mother's eyes - the cart began to move! They were bound . . . somewhere at the mercy of this Moriel person.

While Pearl was panicking about all this, Jorgy began poking around a large assortment of wine bottles labeled Írimë's Wine Stash. Pearl had no idea who this Írimë was, of course, but she feared to steal from anyone's stash of anything in this scary place. "Jorgy!" she hissed, so as not to be heard over the trundling cart. "Put those down! We can have wine back in the Shire!"

Uruva informed Tarawen that the empire run from the Barad-dur had a nasty habit of executing family members. They needed to return home to her uncle and Aunt Landy as soon as possible, or they would be nothing more than smoking corpses.

It was too late, though. The Pink Tricycle circled forlornly in front of the farmhouse, right around the bodies of Tara's only known relatives. There was now nothing left for her here.

"I want to be a Knight that's definitely not from another franchise, like my father before me." she stated resolutely to Uruva.

So far, nobody was having any luck catching the thief or finding the stolen item. Zarâm groaned as she checked yet another spot. Surely the thief would be hiding out in the Cloud of Ash. It was certainly the most likely place that the mysterious Winddancer would be hiding out in. There were rumours that one of the lava snakes had disappeared from the race track and Zarâm had a feeling the woman would know about it. Hopefully she would get on the right track for hunting soon and catch that darned thief!

Oh Jorgy, what have you done now? In an attempt to leapt out of Moriel's wagon, the young hobbit caught his foot on a piece of rope and tumbled ass over tea kettle out of the wagon, making a rather noisome crash in the process. It was unfortunate for him that Moriel was in no hurry to get to the Towers of No Return and she had all the time to question him about his ability to read signage and understanding of property laws. Jorgy, of course had no idea what Prop or Tea laws were but he assumed they were important. But she was carrying wine, not tea. All of this was confusing to poor Jorgy. At least Pearl was still safe and unseen.

What a pickle! Jorgy could not run, and leave Pearl behind, nor could he stay and endure a la cute about Prop or Tea. Which was the lesser of two evils and which was the lesser of two weevils? Quite a Frosty situation he was in now! But look! Another cart was rolling back down the opposite way! He could be saved! The owner of this new cart, an elf by the name Tarawen, seemed far more amenable to Hobbit companions than did Moriel, who was very cross indeed to find Pearl also stashed away in her wagon. Tarawen said something about catching their DEATH out here but Jorgy had no idea what that could possibly mean.

It was settled. Jorgy and Pearl would ride with Tarawen for the handsome price of explaining what exactly two hobbits were doing in Mordor. Jorgy tried to explain, but his lack of understanding metaphor and his overuse of puns rendered his tale a flummoxing one that made very little sense. In the end after they were long gone from Moriel and her Prop or Tea Laws, Tarawen thought of a better price, one of the bottles of Írimë's Wine Stash Jorgy had managed to tuck away. It was nearly second breakfast time, or maybe elevensies, Jorgy couldn't really tell. He was tired. Maybe Tarawen knew about caffeine cheerios?

Tarawen had no idea what she was doing in Mordor, but apparently she was here on a mission for her uncle and had already ridden a lava snake, met with Uruva, and decided to become a knight. This was almost as odd as the blue bird-shaped cake in the Shire. And speaking of the Shire . . . were those hobbits she spied ahead?

Pearl had just reprimanded Jorgy for stealing from Írimë's Wine Stash when he went flying out the back of the cart. "Jorgy!" she cried, following him out of the moving vehicle to check if he was okay, staggering a bit on landing but not tumbling over like her companion.

Tara paused her own cart to check if they were alright. Upon closer inspection, one of them - the girl - was most definitely a hobbit. The other was hobbitlike in appearance but decidely less so in demeanor. He had a furtive air about him, as if he was used to spending his life hiding and sliding out of sight. In all her years of patrolling the Shire's borders, she had never seen anyone quite like him.

"And what are two halfings like yourselves doing here, in Mordor of all places?" Tara asked. "Can I give you a lift? This is not a place you want to be traveling alone and on foot." And so it was decided - the hobbits would provide her with some wine, and she'd give them a ride.

"We're just on our way to The Towers of No Return!" Pearl explained eagerly as she climbed into the cart, being too young and innocent to think twice about telling a perfect stranger their plans (though she did think this woman looked strangely like the ranger who'd once caused so much trouble at the Green Dragon).

Tara regarded the hobbits curiously - even more so when the odder one asked after something called "caffeine cheerios." Eyebrows raised, she replied seriously, "I have absolutely no idea what that means. Have you tried Frosted Cheerios, though? Those are quite good."

The Whisper jauntily whistled (another good name, the Jaunty Whisper), as she meandered down the streets bordering the Towers of No Return. So far she was quite enjoying her time here in Mordor. Perhaps she should stay for a while.

She carefully took a sip from Irimë’s Wine Stash, wishing she had brought a Frosty glass with her. She knew she made a poor wine snob, but she preferred a room temperature red. Unfortunately, room temperature here was warmer than she preferred her wine. Still, she could make that work, should she decide to stay. All she needed was to meet a bartender and get some recommendations on what to do about her palate. (That, or switch to liquor).

"Well, darn it," muttered Zarâm, as she stumbled upon the variety of snakes yet again. "Why am I always the one who has to find the blasted snakes!" At least by this point in time she was familiar enough with the snake pit to be able to avoid stepping on them for the most part and actually managed to get away from the cloud without any bites to her ankles. She groaned and shook her head at the lost time for thief hunting. Well, once she got far enough away from the snakes, she would be ready to start hunting again.

Snakes now far behind her, Zarâm headed for Barad-dûr. Perhaps in that fortress she would be able to find that devilishly sneaky thief Nerwen. The reasoning for the dwarf enter the Black Land seemed rather strange, but then, dwarves certainly enjoyed thievery as a trate. It would make sense for her to have made off with the Írimë’s Wine Stash. Dwarves did enjoy their drinking parties, she certainly knew that. And she wondered if the rest of the group would be following her in their strange game of "follow the leader".

Tarawen and Jorgy’s conversation about breakfast cereal and caffeine hit an abrupt halt when they rounded the top of a ridge and caught sight of the terrifying gates of Barad-dûr. Even as a lava snake, Jorgy had never been able to look at that place without feeling scared. As a Hobbit, somehow the feeling was magnified. He was larger now, but the abject size of the thing as… staggering. Luckily, they didn’t stay very long and the feeling of being watched passed. He did not like that! No! Not one bit. He hoped Pearl was not afraid. She wouldn’t be of course, she was very, very brave.

They continued their long trek through the black lands when lunch time rolled around (Pearl wanted elevensies but Tarawen could not quite comprehend exactly what Jorgy’s explanation of the meal meant and the whole discussion fizzled out). They stopped at a nice (for Mordor) spot that overlooked the Sea of Nurnen. The clouds were not too heavy and they were going to have guests! A man by the terrifying name of Krumhûr and an elf by the name of Dimcairien. Pearl once explained the importance of having guests at meal times but Jorgy thought it might be a bad idea here, still manners mattered… whatever manners were.

Between the five of them, they finished off the bottle from Írimë’s Wine Stash, a dozen oat cakes, a sandwich (not a sand witch) apiece, and countless apple fritters. Where any of this food actually came from or how it stayed fresh was anyone’s guess but that was something best left alone for now, asking too many questions in Mordor could make the whole illusion of a working country fall apart.

Pearl craned back her neck to look up and up into the terrifying heights of Barad-dûr. She shivered, and it was not from any chill. She felt a menacing presence there that she couldn't name or describe; all she knew was that she was very, very uncomfortable. Nothing in the Shire had ever felt this uncomfortable.

"Elevenses would be lovely," she mumbled, hugging herself to alleviate her feelings of unease. The ranger driving the cart had no idea what to make of this, however, because Jorgy immediately launched into an enumeration of the many courses he enjoyed for elevenses.

Elevenses or not, Pearl felt a bit better once they had eaten, though she was wary of Krumhûr. That man seemed to appreciate the menacing power of the tall tower they had seen - or at least he alluded to it over the oat cakes and wine (an odd Jorgian combination to be sure).

Pearl was sad to see the last of their bottle from Írimë’s Wine Stash poured out. She imagined she might want more than one drink before she left Mordor . . .

It was not long after the strange trio of Tarawen, Jorgy, and Pearl (the first two were not so strange, but any trio involving Jorgy was bound to be) had finished their meal and parted ways with the even odder duo that Tarawen announced that this was as far she could take them. It was going to be dangerous were she was going and she didn’t want to endanger the lives of the hobbits (fully believing Jorgy was a full-fledged, but odd, hobbit). When pressed by Jorgy, who was not keen on suddenly being left suddenly without transportation, she pointed toward Barad-dûr, or at least that’s where he thought she pointed, his sense of direction had been turned around and he barely had a grasp on which direction was up or down.

He felt terrible. He brought Pearl here to show her all the interesting places that he knew about here and so far the only interesting thing they had found together was Írimë’s Wine Stash. What was worse, he felt like they were constantly running from this person or that person or from this place to that place. Mordor was not at all what he remembered it being like. Had his transmogrifying from lava snake to hobbit changed how he perceived this place, or had it just gotten scarier? He was hoping for the latter, because at least he could deal with that.

It was getting on though and Jorgy wanted to make sure Pearl was able to have afternoon tea, a weird little meal she’d taught him about where they drank hot water with leaves in it from the daintiest of cups (Jorgy had to buy Pearl a completely new set when he accidently smooshed a cup by grabbing it too hard). It was often had with scones, tarts, or cakes and that was enough to sell Jorgy on it! He loved his sweets, just like a proper, real hobbit. He had begun to despair of having sweets when they met another Rohir in Mordor. This one was named Taethowen. Like Gwai before her, she seemed a little distracted, she apparently was on the hunt for a man (or maybe he was a balrog, she wasn’t very cealr on that point) named Reikon. Still, Jorgy decided to press his luck and ask her if she had any tea. Surely she would!

The Whisper was new to thief hunting, and felt as if she were falling behind. As if others were a step ahead of her. She turned toward Barad-dûr, determined to seek out this crafty thief.

Fortunately she still had a bit of Irimë’s Wine Stash left. She downed another sip, enjoying the freedom of questioning suspects in Mordor. Some places, Rohan, for example, had all sorts of rules about how you could not just grab a random passerby and threaten them with torture in exchange for information. Apparently they had gotten stricter, with new marshals, especially that Taethowen. She was apparently rooting out traitors, cracking down on crime, making Rohan a place to be avoided.

Pearl watched glumly as the ranger pulled away in her cart, leaving the hobbits alone. Apparently Tarawen was going to Barad-dûr on some ranger-y mission or other, and Pearl didn't like to think what horrors the woman might find on her journey.

She noticed that Jorgy was looking a bit down. "What's the matter, Jorgy?" she asked. "Have we missed something you were looking forward to visiting? What were some of your favorite places? Maybe we can visit them before we head back to the Shire! Oh, but I do wish we could have another glass of red from Írimë's Wine Stash."

But instead of alcohol, Jorgy turned his attention to tea and approached one of the Big Folk named Taethowen for help putting together the afternoon's tea service. Pearl wondered what in the Shire all these non-orcs were doing in Mordor, then realized she herself was one of them, too. Hmmmmm.

Apparently everyone else had also decided to show up at Barad-dûr as it was extremely obvious that was where the thief had decided to hang out. Of course, it was an ideal place to enjoy Írimë's Wine Stash, but hopefully the owner of said wine stash would not discover the thief, who Zarâm highly suspected was Reikon. Not many souls would be brave (or foolish) enough to steal wine from the pub mistress.

Afternoon tea turned out to be much more exciting that Jorgy had anticipated. He thought he and Pearl would be sitting down to a quiet, reserved time out from the world’s strangest tour when all of the sudden orc swarmed them and arrested the Rohir who had so wonderfully plied them with tea. Before Jorgy and Pearl knew what hit them, the woman was hauled away to Dhâd Bûrz and the hobbits were left with a plethora of tea, cakes, and wine. It was a pickle and no mistake. Oh, were there pickles? Yes! Yes there were! Jorgy had decided those were his favorite food. He loved them on sandwiches (not sand witches though, pickles were terrible with them) and in tomato soup. Fried eggs were good in tomato soup. Oh right! They were in Mordor and the Big Person (he had to remember to use that term for people) they had been with was being dragged to a fate worse that death. Hmmmm.

“What do you think we should do Pearl? Do you think she really stole that wine? I mean, did too a little and we’re not being put to DEATH over it. I think… maybe we should try and rescue her. I know I promised to show you the more interesting parts of Mordor and well where she’s going isn’t one of them (in fact it’s downright Toasty), but what do you say?”

Adventures, he had learned in the Shire, were anathema to all things Hobbit (boy did he love using that word) but perhaps Pearl was not so adverse to a spot of excitement and danger. She was here in Mordor with him after all. He put out his hand and the former Lava Snake hoped his bestest best friend in the whole world would come with him.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!" Pearl screamed. She felt like the hairs on her head and feet were standing on end with fear as a troop of orcs approached to arrest the woman from whom Jorgy had procured tea. "Jorgyyyyyyyyy!" She ran behind him and hid her face. If only there had been One Huge Barrel Full of Hobbits around, she could've camoflauged beautifully.

Once her screaming spell ended (she was quite impressed with Jorgy's patience with her for this), he asked what they should do regarding the Big Person who'd just been dragged away before their eyes. If Narv had been here, he probably could've given them some advice (not that Pearl knew who Narv was, of course).

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Pearl began in reply. "It wasn't long ago that I wanted to hide Beneath a Rock or in The Shadows, and now we're thinking of a rescue mission?" She didn't have to consider long before her bff offered her his hand. "Okay," she said, taking it and smiling tentatively (Mordor was still creepy despite this nice moment).

Alright. So they were definitely doing this. Jorgy and Pearl were going to rescue one of the Big People from one of the scariest places on earth. Okay. Okay. Ooooookay. Well, first thing’s first (where did that saying come from? Of course the first thing would be first, how could first thing be second?), they needed to talk to Tzu. Jorgy knew who she was, and she was an odd duck. Well, not so odd as most residents of Mordor, including Jorgy himself (who was odd everywhere). She was an excellent soothsayer, a sayer of soothing things, obviously, and Pearl and Jorgy could both use some soothing things said to them. He had seen her soothsay to Elenhir, a very frustrated, but very wise, man when he was worked up about someone named Tom Bombadil.

Normally, Tzu worked in the black pits, but recently she had begun to work at The Morannon, which was good because neither Jorgy and Pearl were not soothed enough to go to the black pits yet. Jorgy had been to the Black Gates once, when he was a lava snake and they had seemed huge and intimidating. Now, they seemed less so. Was it because he was a little taller? Or because Pearl was here with him and he wasn't so afraid with Pearl around.

They had to disguise themselves first. They couldn’t just walk around Mordor dressed in bright hobbit colors! Oh how foolish they had been so far! It was no wonder they had had so many odd encounters with people while they were here. They asked a somewhat friendly looking goblin where they could get some clothes but after trying to follow his weird directions (weird in a geographical sense not a weird, weird sense) all they found was a plaque that said “Grond was here".

"Tour of Mordor" was what she'd signed up for, but now it seemed like this was definitely a "Rescue Mission." Pearl wished that Dwim was here to help. Three hobbits would surely be better than two. But two was better than one, and she was happy that Jorgy was her companion on this very odd journey.

On their way to the Morannon, Jorgy stopped to ask after some clothes that would allow them to blend in well. Pearl secretly thought that it'd be just as well if a Cloud of Ash blew over them and made them look all dusty, just like everything else in Mordor. But she held her tongue and followed him in a circuitous path to try and find some orcish clothing. It did not turn out very well.

"Jorgy, I think we should stop for a snack," she said. "It is almost time for dinner, after all." She pulled her pack off her back and removed some peanut butter (caffeinated for good measure; one did not want to fall asleep at random whilst wandering Mordor) and crackers. "This should tide us over." The two hobbits sat down to share the snack with Minas Morgûl looming in the background. Unfortunately, Pearl found that her mouth was now quite sticky. She found she could use a toothbrush and some water, but the only toothbrush that passing orcs knew of was the Mouth of Sauron's Toothbrush, and she didn't want to touch that with a thirty foot pole.

The Whisper felt she may have found her new calling. Or, at least something to pay the bills, as work as a Burglar was in short supply these days. Hopefully something would pop up soon, but in the meantime, there was another thief to catch. More importantly, more reward money up for grabs.

She had not yet been to Cirith Ungol, and on arrival, had little compunction in deciding it was unlikely the thief would hide here. From what she had heard of the prime suspects, Sil and Moriel, neither were likely to be found in this dank place. She stumbled over something disgusting, One Rotting Leg O’Las, and shuddered. She had few qualms, but this was crossing a line.

Those crackers were absolutely delicious. Unfortunately, like Pearl, Jorgy suddenly had a very dry mouth. The sensation was exceedingly strange. As a lava snake, Jorgy had never had dry mouth and until now he’d always had a drink to wash down whatever food from the seventeen meals a day hobbits ate. This presented a very large problem. Well, not really, but it was very present on his mind when Jorgy and Pearl met with Landy. She traded them the clothes they needed, though the shirts smelled like moldy beans, and in return Jorgy and Pearl would deliver a message to Uruva. “Dogs are better than cats.” Jorgy wasn’t sure what that meant but it seemed easy enough.

The black gate was a bust otherwise. It was closing in on dinner time and all the food the orcs were cooking looked unappetizing (even the lava snake part of Jorgy was put off by that). So…. They needed to find Uruva and get some dinner. Now that was a problem. Uruva made her home in Minas Morgûl, a place so scary that even Jorgy didn’t want to go. But… there was nothing for it. He needed to tell her that dogs were better than cats and he and Pearl needed to eat. Perhaps there was some roasted goat they could try. Well that would solve his dry mouth for sure!

Being super duper sneaky, Jorgy and Pearl made it inside of the creepy castle but once they were inside they, not being very well oriented to non Euclidean geometry, became very, very lost. Well this was just not going to do! They needed to get out of the hallway before they were caught. It was only a matter of time before an orc asked them the wrong question. They ducked into the nearest door and lo and behold, it was a display room for the Hauberk of Angmar. Wow was that thing ugly!

The Whisper knew she should have avoided Cirith Ungol. Not only was it extremely creepy on it's own, with dark tunnels, large cobwebs, and an ominous buzzing sound. The buzzing sound was getting even louder as she progressed, and she paused, deciding no amount of reward was worth this.

She turned to go, but something large and buzzing brushed by her head. And then another. And another. Murder hornets! One landed on her shoulder, it's stinger dripping with poison. Her dagger was immediately in her hand, and she stabbed it through it's large belly. It dropped quickly, likely a snack for whatever was making those large webs.

There were plenty more murder hornets, and she swung wildly with her dagger as she ran down tunnel after tunnel. A large web was in front of her, and she ran straight at it, diving down to the ground at the last second as she reached it, hacking wildly with her dagger to make a small hole in the bottom portion of the web. She curled up, making herself as small as possible, and hastily pulled some web over her. She could feel the web vibrating as murder hornets kept hitting the web and getting stuck. They were smart, however, and soon figured out they couldn't reach her, and slowly drifted away. She waited a few more minutes, and hacked her way out of the web, not wanting to wait too long, as something large would likely be along to claim the murder hornet carcasses