It's me again . . .
Writer From Rivendell: Argh! Why can't you just settle on one name? Nah, only kidding. I'm glad you finally got round to joining. Hmm, a golden and red hall . . . sounds like MarySue type descriptions, two colours at once. Yayfor cute Mini-Balrogs and evil demon elves!
Malfoyelf: Many thanks for forgiving me. Yup, Amariel is our little genius today. Ah, they're going to . . . I can't tell you that. Yes, I'll end up talking to my self. But not for some tome yet. We need to get back to normal pancaking first.
Roseblade22: Yes, me's back. Well done to you two for expert splatting. Yup, I'm gonna make a poster advert for Pancakes . . . someday, someday soon. Me? A naughty mind? Ahem. //Tries very hard not to think about this paragraph// A-ny-way . . . yay for lovely presents! My response to the next two paragraphs can be summed up in one word: FANGIRL! Okay . . . now i'm going to have horrible mental images of Bilbo chopping women up. Ugh. Long black coat? YAY! And I have updated now . . .
Writer From Rivendell: Yup, I updated too soon. Yay! Another Cam reader! Okay, keep the name. And the pebbledash pancakes were Caroline/Hirilnara's idea. Blame her.
Liliac (fangirl in training): Yeah, well, everyone kept complaining. Legolas' stuff turns up again in this chapter. The treatment of the horses ws, alas, necessary - they need to get to Legolas ASAP. No! Not the MEACP (Even if it *is* now called MEAPS).
Viktoreja Rose: And the moral of this story is: Never trust pancake-wielding maniacs. Mm, yummy waffle.
Bilbo-san: Well, with all the pancakes used in this chapter, they may well have been. Ooh, pretty random voice.
Merrylyn: Yes, Edoras. Rohan. Mad horse-loving Ispace agent. Yup, pretty pancakes. And what is the point of the no repeating letters? Ooh, swishy cloak! Alas for fangirls . . . Ack! Can't . . . breathe . . . Ooh, another review. Yup, Gondor splatting fun. Hethien did very well, it must have been the excellent trainingg you gave her. Yes, Legolas will be rescued . . . but I'm afraid you don't stay in the story much longer after that.
Bulma Greenleaf: Well, yes, there will be, because he gets rescued. Ooh, pretty dragons! Uh . . . what is a Wob-Wob? AIEE! No! Not the macarena! I'm scared. Well done for a long review.
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Aww, poor you. Uh . . . I think I've just been attacked by an evil elf with illusionary daggers. Eep! I'm not *your* Dark Lord, I am mine. And I'm not cute!
Malfoyelf: I updated before you did your review, I think. It just takes a while to show. No! Don't attack yourself with a spork! I'm sorry, Legolas' portal generator was still lost, and you've copyrrighted the spatula, so I couldn't possibly use that. You get two replies for two reviews - that do you? Yes, I like long reviews, and I will update soon . . . like now!
Kyma: No worries. We've got a carnival on England? Where? I'm glad you liked them.
Amariel: You are? Riiiight . . .
Choclat Elf: Yes, you're forgiven. Sunburn is evil! Yes, you're the leader for now. Well, your chance to wander around being evil is nearly over. Sorry. I'm glad you liked it, and don't worry about not reviewing. You're back now.
RedwingsFan: Oh, *that* sort of challenge. How about this then: A story in which a girl falls into Middle-Earth and never gets within fifty metres of a single elf/half-elf. Or any of the members of the fellowship. Muahaha. Yes, a signed pancake. Don't eat it all at once! Alright, no Legolas torture . . . shame. Mind? What is this 'mind' thing? Where can I get one?
Inweofnargothrond: I'm glad you liked it!
Roseblade22: I passed on your message to Legolas, and he was very relieved. Ooh, community service for school . . . nice idea.
So . . . many . . . reviews. And now, onto the story! [Note: Near Haad is the region of Harad next to South Gondor]
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Nine: Near Harad
The eight horsed figures galloped southward, their urgency lending them a speen almost equal to that of the fabled Shadowfax. As they straked through the deserts of Southern Gondor, Chocolat Elf rode up alongside Merrylyn.
Shouting to be heard over the rushing wind, the elf asked, "How do you know where to go?"
Looking over her shoulder briefly, Merrylyn replied, "The portal generator that your master had with him is Ispace technology. We had to give him it to prevent him wearing his legs out, once we realised he was serious about this pancake thing. It's got a tracer on it, which says we can find it about . . . here!"
Merrylyn suddenly pulled sharply on her reigns, yanking her horse into a tight circle to slow down. The others, not so well prepared, made a large loop before coming to a rest beside the bank on which Merrylyn, now dismounted, was searching.
As they dropped from their horses onto the soft earth, the girl in the brown cloak gave a cry of triumph and held up a bundle of objects, including a bow and a shiny metal thing that they all recognised as the portal generator.
"Well," said Hirilnara, "this certainly makes our job easier." When the others looked at her curiously, she elaborated. "I know we can't portal straight to him, not knowing where he is, but once we've got him we can go straight home."
Merrylyn nodded. "Good point. Well done." She seemed about to say more when Hethien called from the top of the rise.
Down on the plain below, amid the sparse grass, was a huge bare patch, obviously the site of the Haradrim camp. And, leading away on the South side of it, was a churned up path of hoof- and footprints. The interpretation was obvious. Once the Southronas had captured a prisoner, they had returned home with all speed. And now the group had to follow them: South, into unknown territory.
It was approaching evening several days later when Hethien, scouting ahead as usual, spotted the enemy camp. And camp it was, for the Southrons Legolas had encountered were setting their tents up already. This close to home, they felt no need to hurry.
Leaving their horses behing a convenient hillock, the eight crept closer to the setup. Eventually, Amariel whispered, "There!" and pointed. Sure enough, a figure clad in black stumbled out of one of the tents and slumped by the fire, immune to the taunts of the Southrons around it. They had found their master.
Quickly, Merrylyn designated roles to the group. Elanhin and Hirilnara were assigned to lightmaker duty, using their respective magics. Chocolat, Bulma, Lainy, Amariel and Hethien would provide covering fire, while Merrylyn herself grabbed the target. As night fell, they were ready.
The Haradrim looked up in shock as a swarm of glowing dots flew overhead. They were even more surprised whenn each one settled over the head of one of their warriors. When one of hese leapt up and grabbed the speck, revealing it to be a small pebble, glowing red hot, their surprise increased. However, all this surprise was as nothing compared to that they received when a barrage of pale masses flew from the night, aimed for their most prominent soldiers, and . . .
SPLAT!
For Elanhin and Hirilnara, watching from the perimeter, the camp was a mess of pancakes and arrows, swords and shields. Elanhin saw a warrior sneaking up on the oblivious Bulma, and quickly brought one of Hirilnara's pebbles in to knock the Southron into oblivion. Then, as one charged up the slope towards the two magic users, too fast for her to respond, a long range pancake from Lainy put him down.
In the midst of all this, a figure in brown slipped through the collapsed defences of the camp and grabbed the elf sitting by the fire. Merrylyn was about to make her exit, accompanied by Legolas, when a heavy Southron warrior collapsed atop her, slamming her into Legolas and trapping them both.
The battle raged until near morning. As the exhausted pancakers picked themselves up, and Elanhin and Hirilnara finally dropped the stones they had been holding up by sheer willpower, Hethien finally asked, "Where's Merrylyn?"
As if in answer, there came a groan from beneath one of the nearby unconcious soldiers. Bulma and Chocolat dragged the Southron away to reveal the senior Ispace agent slumped over Legolas.
Merrylyn came round to find herself sitting on a hillock some distance from the camp. Looking around, she assembled the full story - Legolas was freed and they'd all survived - and reached into her pocket. Pulling out a radio, she flicked it on, set it to a specific channel and said, "He's here. Come and get him."
"What ws that?" asked Lainy. As Merrylyn thought frantically, trying to think up an excuse, Legolas answered, wearily, "I think I can guess."
Behind a hill a short distance away the sun was rising. As it did so, a long line of flickering blue portals opened . . . and hordes of fangirls rushed out, running towards Legolas accompanied by deafening squeals. As the Assistants, accompanied by Hethien, prepared their defence, Legolas said to Merrylyn, "You betrayed me. I won't stand for that."
SPLAT!
Leaving the treacherous Ispace agent on the ground, the pancake still clinging to her face, Legolas stood with a sigh and joined his loyal assistants. The front line of fangirls was less than a hundred metres away when he picked up a pancake, smiled grimly, annd said, "Girls . . . there's a lot of work to do."
* * * *
Phew. Finally they got round to rescuing him. Now we can get back to the original storyline.
Hey, kids, how about a review or two?
hS
Ps. If anyone wants to see a really morbid tale about Mary-Sues dying, they should go over and read my new story, 'Ways to Kill a 'Sue'. It's really very sick and twisted.
hS
Writer From Rivendell: Argh! Why can't you just settle on one name? Nah, only kidding. I'm glad you finally got round to joining. Hmm, a golden and red hall . . . sounds like MarySue type descriptions, two colours at once. Yayfor cute Mini-Balrogs and evil demon elves!
Malfoyelf: Many thanks for forgiving me. Yup, Amariel is our little genius today. Ah, they're going to . . . I can't tell you that. Yes, I'll end up talking to my self. But not for some tome yet. We need to get back to normal pancaking first.
Roseblade22: Yes, me's back. Well done to you two for expert splatting. Yup, I'm gonna make a poster advert for Pancakes . . . someday, someday soon. Me? A naughty mind? Ahem. //Tries very hard not to think about this paragraph// A-ny-way . . . yay for lovely presents! My response to the next two paragraphs can be summed up in one word: FANGIRL! Okay . . . now i'm going to have horrible mental images of Bilbo chopping women up. Ugh. Long black coat? YAY! And I have updated now . . .
Writer From Rivendell: Yup, I updated too soon. Yay! Another Cam reader! Okay, keep the name. And the pebbledash pancakes were Caroline/Hirilnara's idea. Blame her.
Liliac (fangirl in training): Yeah, well, everyone kept complaining. Legolas' stuff turns up again in this chapter. The treatment of the horses ws, alas, necessary - they need to get to Legolas ASAP. No! Not the MEACP (Even if it *is* now called MEAPS).
Viktoreja Rose: And the moral of this story is: Never trust pancake-wielding maniacs. Mm, yummy waffle.
Bilbo-san: Well, with all the pancakes used in this chapter, they may well have been. Ooh, pretty random voice.
Merrylyn: Yes, Edoras. Rohan. Mad horse-loving Ispace agent. Yup, pretty pancakes. And what is the point of the no repeating letters? Ooh, swishy cloak! Alas for fangirls . . . Ack! Can't . . . breathe . . . Ooh, another review. Yup, Gondor splatting fun. Hethien did very well, it must have been the excellent trainingg you gave her. Yes, Legolas will be rescued . . . but I'm afraid you don't stay in the story much longer after that.
Bulma Greenleaf: Well, yes, there will be, because he gets rescued. Ooh, pretty dragons! Uh . . . what is a Wob-Wob? AIEE! No! Not the macarena! I'm scared. Well done for a long review.
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Aww, poor you. Uh . . . I think I've just been attacked by an evil elf with illusionary daggers. Eep! I'm not *your* Dark Lord, I am mine. And I'm not cute!
Malfoyelf: I updated before you did your review, I think. It just takes a while to show. No! Don't attack yourself with a spork! I'm sorry, Legolas' portal generator was still lost, and you've copyrrighted the spatula, so I couldn't possibly use that. You get two replies for two reviews - that do you? Yes, I like long reviews, and I will update soon . . . like now!
Kyma: No worries. We've got a carnival on England? Where? I'm glad you liked them.
Amariel: You are? Riiiight . . .
Choclat Elf: Yes, you're forgiven. Sunburn is evil! Yes, you're the leader for now. Well, your chance to wander around being evil is nearly over. Sorry. I'm glad you liked it, and don't worry about not reviewing. You're back now.
RedwingsFan: Oh, *that* sort of challenge. How about this then: A story in which a girl falls into Middle-Earth and never gets within fifty metres of a single elf/half-elf. Or any of the members of the fellowship. Muahaha. Yes, a signed pancake. Don't eat it all at once! Alright, no Legolas torture . . . shame. Mind? What is this 'mind' thing? Where can I get one?
Inweofnargothrond: I'm glad you liked it!
Roseblade22: I passed on your message to Legolas, and he was very relieved. Ooh, community service for school . . . nice idea.
So . . . many . . . reviews. And now, onto the story! [Note: Near Haad is the region of Harad next to South Gondor]
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Nine: Near Harad
The eight horsed figures galloped southward, their urgency lending them a speen almost equal to that of the fabled Shadowfax. As they straked through the deserts of Southern Gondor, Chocolat Elf rode up alongside Merrylyn.
Shouting to be heard over the rushing wind, the elf asked, "How do you know where to go?"
Looking over her shoulder briefly, Merrylyn replied, "The portal generator that your master had with him is Ispace technology. We had to give him it to prevent him wearing his legs out, once we realised he was serious about this pancake thing. It's got a tracer on it, which says we can find it about . . . here!"
Merrylyn suddenly pulled sharply on her reigns, yanking her horse into a tight circle to slow down. The others, not so well prepared, made a large loop before coming to a rest beside the bank on which Merrylyn, now dismounted, was searching.
As they dropped from their horses onto the soft earth, the girl in the brown cloak gave a cry of triumph and held up a bundle of objects, including a bow and a shiny metal thing that they all recognised as the portal generator.
"Well," said Hirilnara, "this certainly makes our job easier." When the others looked at her curiously, she elaborated. "I know we can't portal straight to him, not knowing where he is, but once we've got him we can go straight home."
Merrylyn nodded. "Good point. Well done." She seemed about to say more when Hethien called from the top of the rise.
Down on the plain below, amid the sparse grass, was a huge bare patch, obviously the site of the Haradrim camp. And, leading away on the South side of it, was a churned up path of hoof- and footprints. The interpretation was obvious. Once the Southronas had captured a prisoner, they had returned home with all speed. And now the group had to follow them: South, into unknown territory.
It was approaching evening several days later when Hethien, scouting ahead as usual, spotted the enemy camp. And camp it was, for the Southrons Legolas had encountered were setting their tents up already. This close to home, they felt no need to hurry.
Leaving their horses behing a convenient hillock, the eight crept closer to the setup. Eventually, Amariel whispered, "There!" and pointed. Sure enough, a figure clad in black stumbled out of one of the tents and slumped by the fire, immune to the taunts of the Southrons around it. They had found their master.
Quickly, Merrylyn designated roles to the group. Elanhin and Hirilnara were assigned to lightmaker duty, using their respective magics. Chocolat, Bulma, Lainy, Amariel and Hethien would provide covering fire, while Merrylyn herself grabbed the target. As night fell, they were ready.
The Haradrim looked up in shock as a swarm of glowing dots flew overhead. They were even more surprised whenn each one settled over the head of one of their warriors. When one of hese leapt up and grabbed the speck, revealing it to be a small pebble, glowing red hot, their surprise increased. However, all this surprise was as nothing compared to that they received when a barrage of pale masses flew from the night, aimed for their most prominent soldiers, and . . .
SPLAT!
For Elanhin and Hirilnara, watching from the perimeter, the camp was a mess of pancakes and arrows, swords and shields. Elanhin saw a warrior sneaking up on the oblivious Bulma, and quickly brought one of Hirilnara's pebbles in to knock the Southron into oblivion. Then, as one charged up the slope towards the two magic users, too fast for her to respond, a long range pancake from Lainy put him down.
In the midst of all this, a figure in brown slipped through the collapsed defences of the camp and grabbed the elf sitting by the fire. Merrylyn was about to make her exit, accompanied by Legolas, when a heavy Southron warrior collapsed atop her, slamming her into Legolas and trapping them both.
The battle raged until near morning. As the exhausted pancakers picked themselves up, and Elanhin and Hirilnara finally dropped the stones they had been holding up by sheer willpower, Hethien finally asked, "Where's Merrylyn?"
As if in answer, there came a groan from beneath one of the nearby unconcious soldiers. Bulma and Chocolat dragged the Southron away to reveal the senior Ispace agent slumped over Legolas.
Merrylyn came round to find herself sitting on a hillock some distance from the camp. Looking around, she assembled the full story - Legolas was freed and they'd all survived - and reached into her pocket. Pulling out a radio, she flicked it on, set it to a specific channel and said, "He's here. Come and get him."
"What ws that?" asked Lainy. As Merrylyn thought frantically, trying to think up an excuse, Legolas answered, wearily, "I think I can guess."
Behind a hill a short distance away the sun was rising. As it did so, a long line of flickering blue portals opened . . . and hordes of fangirls rushed out, running towards Legolas accompanied by deafening squeals. As the Assistants, accompanied by Hethien, prepared their defence, Legolas said to Merrylyn, "You betrayed me. I won't stand for that."
SPLAT!
Leaving the treacherous Ispace agent on the ground, the pancake still clinging to her face, Legolas stood with a sigh and joined his loyal assistants. The front line of fangirls was less than a hundred metres away when he picked up a pancake, smiled grimly, annd said, "Girls . . . there's a lot of work to do."
* * * *
Phew. Finally they got round to rescuing him. Now we can get back to the original storyline.
Hey, kids, how about a review or two?
hS
Ps. If anyone wants to see a really morbid tale about Mary-Sues dying, they should go over and read my new story, 'Ways to Kill a 'Sue'. It's really very sick and twisted.
hS