The Battle of the Pelennor fields was not going well. The forces of good had just been dealt a crippling blow: King Theoden was struck down, badly injured by the Witch King of Angmar, and this demanded avenging.

Which, as it turned out, was a lot easier said than done.

"Fool! No living man of woman born can slay me!" said the Witch-King, as his fell beast was killed beneath him, forcing him to dismount.

"But no living man am I!" declared the warrior who faced him. "You look upon a woman!" Eowyn stabbed the monster in the chest, and looked upon her prey with grim satisfaction.

Only to be thrown against a catapult a moment later, by the still-living Witch King, falling to the ground with a thud.

"You know," said the Witch King, dusting himself off. "That prophecy was originally in Black Speech. The word 'man' is translated from a word which is gender-neutral. It doesn't matter if you're a woman; you're still human."

"Well, no human am I, you look upon a dwarf!" said Gimli, who had decided to try next.

He was similarly ineffective.

"As well as species-neutral." said the Witch-King, "It would probably be more accurate to say that I cannot be slain by any living being. The translator was simply being poetic. Face the facts: I am invincible."

"No living men are we!" said an army of ghost warriors, as they swarmed over the Witch-King of Angmar.

This bought the rest of them a few minutes to rest and regroup.

Aragorn helped up a fallen warrior. "Lady Eowyn, are you alright?"

"I'll live," she said. "But I would gladly die if it meant taking out that monster."

Legolas was busy checking an unconscious Gimli for broken bones. He managed to finish before the Dwarf awoke, and feigned ignorance when the Gimli inquired as to who had put a splint on his leg.

"Perhaps it was a shield-maiden," said Legolas, cleaning his fingernails. When he was done, he turned to the Wizard. "Gandalf," he said, "The Witch King cannot possibly be invincible. That's not how prophecies work."

"Indeed," said Gandalf, leaning on his staff. "Every monster has a weakness. Sometimes it simply takes the most innocent of hearts to find it."

"You don't mean..." said Aragorn.

"Oh, please no," said Eowyn.

"Hi, guys!" said Brick. "Anything I can do to help?"

The speaker was taller than Gimli, but shorter than Legolas, with long black hair styled into a mullet. He had no beard, but his sideburns were most impressive. He fought using a sword, and looked more like a human than he did any other race.

None of the party had known him before the battle, but Gandalf seemed to think that he was valuable to have around, so they bowed to his wisdom, if reluctantly. The humans were put off by his extreme enthusiasm. The Elf and the Dwarf, however, were morally against letting a twenty-four year old onto a battlefield, even if he had been raised by humans.

"No, no," said Eowyn quickly, "we're doing quite fine on our own. Why don't you go back to the battlements, Sir Brick?"

"But I want to help!" said Brick, obviously disappointed.

"As a matter of fact, young Brick," said Gandalf. "We were just looking for a warrior to defeat the Witch-King of Angmar."

He brightened immediately. "I can do that!"

Gandalf tipped his hat to him. "Well then, best of luck, young warrior."

Brick flashed them a grin, before unsheathing his sword and taking off towards the Witch King with a battle-cry.

As Brick ran off to face his foe, everyone turned to stare at Gandalf, as though the Wizard had just announced that he was joining the ranks of Mordor.

"Mithrandir, you do realize that you just sent that boy to his death," said Legolas.

"Aye," said Gimli. "He was not the most grounded of warriors, but that's no reason to do this, wizard. He's just a boy."

"It seems cruel," agreed Aragorn.

Gandalf just smiled. "Watch and see," he said.

"Yaaaaaaaah!" said Brick, continuing his war-cry, sprinting towards his target.

"No living man of woman born can slay the Witch King!" the Nazgul was saying, as he defeated the last of the ghost warriors. "And 'living' was translated from a word which means 'thinking and acting of your own will' and not, as it turns out, being in a state of life versus death!"

"No living man of woman born am I," said Brick. "You look upon an Earf!"

"What's an Earf?" asked Aragorn.

"Half Elf, half Dwarf, laddie," said Gimli.

"They are not often seen," said Legolas.

"Weren't you listening?" said the Witch King. "'Man' is species-neutral!"

"Die monster," said Brick, slicing the enemy's head off with one swipe of his sword. "Fall before Legobrick, son of Thranduil and Thorin Oakenshield!"

"What?" said Gimli.

"What?" said Legolas.

The Witch-King's headless corpse fell to the ground.

Aragorn couldn't decide what expression fit his current mental state. His mouth was open, and it seemed as though he were trying to offer a smile of camaraderie, but couldn't quite accomplish it.

Eowyn's eyebrows looked as though they were frantically trying to hide in her hair, judging by the twitching, but her expression was otherwise much more composed than was the heir of Isildur.

Legolas and Gimli were no longer looking at Brick but had, instead, slowly turned their heads to stare at each other, their expressions ones of confusion and quickly solidifying horror.

"Friends!" said Legobrick, grinning immensely. "Look! I did it!"