Article: 223015 of rec.arts.books.tolkien Path: uchinews!newsfeed.stanford.edu!xfer10.netnews.com!netnews.com!newspeer.monmouth.com!nntp2.deja.com!nnrp1.deja.com!not-for-mail From: David Sulger <<>> Newsgroups: rec.arts.books.tolkien,alt.fan.tolkien Subject: E-text, Book 3, Chapter 8: The Road to Isengard Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 03:51:12 GMT Organization: Deja.com - Before you buy. Lines: 275 Message-ID: <8ul43f$367$1@nnrp1.deja.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: 38.26.157.67 X-Article-Creation-Date: Sun Nov 12 03:51:12 2000 GMT X-Http-User-Agent: Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 5.01; Windows 98) X-Http-Proxy: 1.1 x59.deja.com:80 (Squid/1.1.22) for client 38.26.157.67 X-MyDeja-Info: XMYDJUIDorius Xref: uchinews rec.arts.books.tolkien:223015 alt.fan.tolkien:48034 Ok, here goes the next chapter of the e-text. A few points: I made sure to reference the other chapters as well as Mr. Brady's list while I was writing it. There's already enough inconsistancies in the plot; I certainly didn't want to add some new ones. Second, I tried not to make the chapter any longer than is truly necessary, although it may be longer than the last two. I was writing this one a plain text, while the other chapters I saved from Mr. Sharp's pages as HTML files, so I can't really compare file sizes. I'm pretty sure it isn't the longest though. :) Third, I noticed the Mr. Sharp referred to this chapter as "The Road to Eyesore". Since previous authors kept the name Isengard, I decided to rename Orthanc to Eyesore (which gave me some ideas for fleshing out the description of Isengard). Finally, I decided to reveal what Aragon and Gandalf's _real_ intentions through all of this story are. Brace yourselves. And now, let the e-text continue. Chapter 8: The Road to Isengard So it was that the two grossly obese men, Gandalf and HeyHoDen, met again. The hicks of Rohan stared in wonder at the poles that now dotted the field before the Hornburg, but their attention was broken by Giggly, who strode out of the canyon behind the Hornburg, giggling furiously. He was accompanied by the smiths and Gambler the Old. "Forty-two, Miss Lego-lass!" he shouted triumpantly, as he walked to her side. "Hmm, " she mused, "I only managed to finish off fourty-one." "Damn that Arwen," Giggly said. "She's got us _both_ beat." "Yes," replied Lego-lass. "We're going to have to get her written out of the movie, or she'll end up overshadowing us both. I'm supposed to be the token elf-babe after all, not her!" she finished with a stamp of her foot. Meanwhile, everyone turned back to the poles. They squinted at them, as if they were an illusion or something, but the poles remained. Then they started to look at Gandalf suspiciously. "Don't look at me like that," Gandalf said. "I had nothing to do with the poles. It's better than what I had planned anyway, so stop complaining." "Then is this the work of Aruman?" HeyHoDen asked. "Did he put these poles here to trap us so his orcs can get free run of my kingdom?" "Nope," said Gandalf. "It's a power far older than Aruman himself: The forest has its lamps so bright, What could make that shining light?" "What's that supposed to mean?" grumbled HeyHoDen. "If you want to find out," said Gandalf, then you'll have to come with me to Isengard." However, the men of Rohan decided right there to have a celebration barbecue, delaying their departure for the rest of the day. Gandalf fumed for a while and chain-smoked several pouches of pipe-weed, but then he took Aragon aside so they could discuss their plans. They talked in Auld High Elvish, so that no one else would be able to understand what they were saying (well, except for Arwen, but she already knew the plan anyway.) "Once we deal with Aruman, our plan for world domination will be unstoppable," said Gandalf. "The elves are tired of Middle-earth, and will let you do what ever you want. The dwerrows should be fairly easy to exploit once you take over. Old Denethor(tm) is senile and crazy, so he won't be a problem, and Dr. Faramir(tm) is loyal to us. We're almost finished with Aruman, so he won't be a problem, either." "Speaking of which," said Aragon, "where did those orcs _really_ come from? I can't believe Aruman would attack Rohan and risk losing all the money he's making off them." "Oh, they're Aruman's alright," Gandalf replied. "They were busy vandalizing Fungang, but I convinced them to attack Rohan on a dare right after I took care of that Balrog. I even had a bunch of helmets made up to implicate Aruman, but the stupid smith thought I said "Saruman" and put S-runes on the helms instead of A." "I was wondering about that myself," said Aragon. "All that leaves is the Shire," continued Gandalf. "As long as he has the Ring, Frodo could get in our way, but luckily for us, he doesn't know how it really works. He was too busy trying to bag that Took wench to learn its real powers. Once he destroys that damnable Ring, he'll eliminate both it and Sauron for us. While he's busy doing that, we'll liquidate what assets he has left. When we're done with him, there won't be any place left in Middle-earth for him. The rest of the Shire is ripe for a revolution, thanks to all that time I spent there over years planting the seeds of revolt. Once they have their "freedom", you'll be able to secretly control them through the Brandybuck crime syndicate." The men of Rohan had their barbecue, and lounged around for the rest of the afternoon. Their Dunlending slaves didn't get any rest, though. First they had to cook the food and serve it. Then they had to clean up, and then take down the portable grills. Needless to say, by the end of the afternoon, they had gotten pretty pissed. Finally, HeyHoDen's curiosity about the poles overcame his laziness, and he gathered his host to set out for Isengard. There had been causalties in the battle, which left extra horses, and now no one had to share horses except for Giggly and Lego-lass. They folowed Gandalf through the poles. "These poles are strange," said Lego-lass. "I'd like to find out what they are." "No way, said Giggly. "It feels like they hate us, and want to kill us." "Not all of us, silly," she said, "just the orcs. Maybe these poles come from Fungang." "Well, you're a tree-hugging elf, so I guess you think Fungang is wonderful," said Giggly. "But I have seen something even better. "Humans can be so stupid, Lego-lass. Here they have a natural wonder, and what do they do with it? Caves, they say! Holes to amplify that horrible music from their concerts. Lego-lass, do you know that the cave's of Deem's Help are vastly amusing? I know many dwerrows who would pay pure gold, just to see them and laugh." "And I would pay double, just to be let out," she snorted, knowing some of the stupid things Giggly would laugh at. "Shows what you know," said Giggly. "I know I laugh a lot, but these caves really are funny. The stalactites, and columns, and everything else made me laugh. And it wasn't just me. Gambler was laughing his ass off too. It was pretty dark when we were in there. I can only imagine how funny it would be all lit up. Just think, cavern after cavern of funny shapes, deep into the mountain." "Maybe the Men of Rohan are smart to conceal them," said the elf. "Just think what damage a single family of dwerrows with hammers and chisels would do to them." "Spoken like a true elf," said Giggly "You think that the dwerrows have no economic sense whatsoever. But we can recognize a profit when we see one, and exploit it. Hell, we need the revenue, thanks to the elves and Gondor(tm) taking advantage of us for centuries. I could make this into a tourist destination: the Giggling Caves of Aglarond, a theme park to rival the Magic Kingdom of Gondor(tm)!" "You move me, Gimli," said Lego-lass. "Never before have I heard a dwerrow actually come up with a sound financial scheme. But where are you going to get the money to run your little enterprise? Everyone knows the dwerrows are broke. Let's make a deal -- if you visit Fungang with me when all this is over, I'll lend you the money to start up the business, and then we can share the profits." "Well, I suppose if I have to visit that stupid forest I will," said Gimli. "But only if you promise to help me with the caves." "I promise, I promise," said Lego-lass quickly, crossing her fingers behind her back. But then some thoughts came unbidden to her mind. "Come to think of it, I won't even have to shell out any of my own money to help him," she thought. "I can just get the money from Daddy, and if his plan fails, I won't lose anything. But if he succeeds, then I get my cut of the money. But I am definitely _not_ falling in love with him." The company rode past the last poles, and headed toward the highway which lead to Isengard. Lego-lass looked back, and then exclaimed, "Look! The poles are lighting up!" Then she turned her horse around, and galloped back toward the poles. "Ooh, the pretty colors," she said. Giggly was busy having another lauging fit. "Stop, Lego-lass Greenbutt!" shouted Gandalf. "I'd listen to him if I were you," said a strange deep voice with a metallic undertone. "Those poles are all charged up." It came from a creature that looked like a walking pole with arms and a bright halogen glare. He pointed to a large squat box that read in big letters: High Voltage Do Not Touch Ever Especially in Thunderstorms Then more of the same creatures strode out from the poles, with all sorts of different colored lights, bright reds, soft greens, glaring sodium yellows, and neon pinks. Some actually laughed at the elf, while most of the others walked from pole to pole, checking them. Cries of fear came from the smiths and farmers, and they tightly clutched their pitchforks and pokers. "Stop!" shouted Gandalf. "Put your weapons away. They aren't enemies, and in fact aren't concerned with you at all." "Well, what are they, Gandalf?" grumbled HeyHoDen, hoping that these creatures did not like barbecue, for it seemed to him like they could eat a great deal. "Can't you give us a straight answer for once intead of all these stupid riddles?" "Riddles?" asked Gandalf. "Has your brain become as soft as your backside? Any five-year old could tell you what they are. You have seen Ments, HeyHoDen, Ments of Fungang Forest, which you call the Mentwood. Really, how the hell do you think it got that name in the first place?" Before HeyHoDen could answer, Gandalf rode off, and they had little choice but to follow him. Finally they came to the Fords of Isen. This was a wide plain with a hard black ground, where many Fords were parked. There were all sorts of makes and models; Model-Ts, Mustangs, even a few scruffy-looking Edsels. "We wasted enough time barbecuing back at Deem's Help," grumbled Gandalf. "Everyone get in a Ford, and we'll drive the rest of the way." HeyHoDen, Eonard, and Aragon traded their horses for a Mustang, Arwen got in a Model-T, and the others got in the remaining Fords. The farmer that had complained so much back at Deem's Help had straggled behind though, and all that was left for him was a beat-up old Pinto. Once upon a time, the men of Atlantis built Isengard(tm) at the south end of the Musty Mountains. However, as the centuries passed, it generated no tourist income, and so Gondor(tm) sold the property (at which time it lost its trademark). It passed from the hands of one disreputable owner to another, until finally Aruman came to dwell there. He had just recovered from his centuries-long bout of alcoholism, and decided to make up for his seedy past by doing charity work. He had planned to found an orphanage and school for disadvantaged orc boys. He tore up all the weeds that had choked the grounds for a millenia or so, and planted grass and trees, forming what he hoped would be a calming environment and thus lessen the homocidal tendancies inborn in orcs. He failed. The older boys set up a nasty system of hazing for the younger boys that actually made things worse. Eventually, Aruman gave up his original plans, and decided to break the boys' spirits by using them as child labor. The serene, almost pastoral landscape of the Wizard's Vale gave way to dormitories and factories. All that remained the same within the circle of Isengard was the tower of Eyesore, the ugliest outcrop of rock in Middle-earth, and the chief cause of Isengard's(tm) economic decline. There the men of Atlantis carved a tower out of the rock, but no one wanted to be caught living there. Aruman, during his days of recovery, thought the humiliation would be good for him, after his centuries of dissolute living. Later, he hoped the ugliness of his attempts at industrialization would make the ugliness of Eyesore less noticeable. Now Gandalf and the others drove up to the gates of Isengard. Once there were lagre iron gates here, but they had been hurled to the ground and crumpled like an aluminum can. There were large gaps in the walls, as if something, or rather, a large number of somethings, had melted their way through. Inside, Isengard was filled with bubbling, boiling water. However, Eyesore stood untouched in the center, as ugly as always. HeyHoDen and his company sat in the Fords, speechless. They saw that Aruman's School for Boys was no more. "Damn," though HeyHoDen, "so much for television." Then as he looked away, he noticed two small figures sitting next to a large pile of dirty dishes on an outcrop of melted rock, now cooled. The company got out of their Fords, and walked up to the figures. One was sleeping, and snoring quite loudly, the other was awake and smoking, with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Welcome to Isengard," he said. "I am Moribund, of a quite unimportant family. My companion," he paused here, firmly kicking the sleeping figure in the ribs with his steel-toed boots, "is Paragraph Took, son of Palatine, of the house of Took. Aruman is busy, so he can't be bothered to see you right now. You'll have to make an appointment." "Indeed," answered Gandalf. "Aruman must be getting really cheap if he can't affort better doormen than two ill-mannered louts." Morrie ignored Gandalf's insult, deciding to pay him back later. "Aruman's not in charge anymore. Isengard's under new management. Our orders came from Steelbeard." Giggly couldn't help it any longer. He burst into laughter. After about a minute or so, when he was finally able to talk, he said, "Wow, Morrie, I never thought you could be such a joker!" Before Morrie could retort, HeyHoDen and the others burst into laughter. "I take it you know these, uh, men, Gandalf?" HeyHoDen asked. "Since we've already seen Ments, I'm guessing these are the fabled Halflings? Little is said about them in Rohan, just that they dwell in a bunch of shacks, and nothing at all about them blowing smoke out of their mouths." Really?" said Morrie. "The weed-trade of Beltbuckleland and Bongbottom in the Southfarthing is very profitable, and has been ever since we, ah, acquired the rights to it from Tobold Hornblower. I'm surprised that no one knows about it." "That's because of Gondor(tm)," said Gandalf. "They banned weed centuries ago, when they cleaned up Gondor(tm) to make it more family- friendly." Morrie's jaw began to drop, but then widened into a broad smile as he realized the profit potential of what could be a huge new market in the south. He drew a small pouch out of his pocket. "Here's a small sample of weed, my lord," he said. "If you like it, I can get more for you, but you'll have to pay for it." "You do not know your danger, HeyHoDen," interrupted Gandalf. "The Brandybucks lace their weed with a substance that makes it highly addictive, which ensures that their customers always come back for more. I should know, since I learned that the hard way," he said, lighting up another pouch of pipe-weed. Morrie glared angrily at him, but Gandalf ignored him and went on. "I don't have the time to see you get hooked on a new bad habit right now. I must speak to Steelbeard. When we're done here, you can talk to Morrie about weed if you want. It's actually quite enjoyable, but first things first." Morrie decided that he didn't need to kill Ganalf after all. Then Gandalf, HeyHoDen, and the other Rohirrim rode into Isengard to look for the elder Ment. Morrie turned to Pipsqueak and whispered, "We're going to make a fortune." --Dave Send e-mail to ds50.geo at yahoo.com Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/ Before you buy.