[littlemanpoet]

Anakron had been waiting patiently for Alli's epiphany to conclude. When it did, he spoke.

"Fléin. You have succeeded in your most unusual quest. However, you were liberal with violence to your quarry. Granted, it was neither theft nor murder; however, there was the threat of murder not to mention severe battery. Eight points."

Anakron turned to Panakeia. "You have the quarry of choice. However, you achieved it by theft. Zero points. You have failed this test. You must make another attempt between now and the end of the fifth and final test, but not right now. It would be most unwise, as the next test will be much harder to pass, and we might as well not waste time on an easy one if the harder one has a much greater chance of ruining your hopes of leaving Mordor. Understood?"

Panakeia dropped the toupée to her side and pouted.

"Most convincing, m'dear."

Anakron turned to Valde. "You, sir, have one Spockian eyebrow. It was also achieved by theft. The deception was quite within bounds, but the theft was clearly against my word. That you have only one is irrelevant, though you should have two, regardless of what that silly Elempí said. Nevermind him. Zero points. You also must make another attempt to pass this test. But not at this time."

"Wilhelmina. I see you have a hat, a ferret, and a little dog, too. You were most wily in separating the pooch from the padiddle who owns her. You did not use theft, nor murder, nor violence, and as I said, deception is within the bounds of the test. However, you still have failed. You should see how it is that you failed. By what means did you separate the dog from the owner? Two things: glittery jewels and a mirror. Both items reveal that this dog here is not the most cherished possession of the padiddle, nor even the second. The padiddle in question happens to care for gems and jewels more than for her pooch; but she cares more about her face and appearance than about either; more's the pity, seeing as the face she has is not really that great in terms of beauty and seemliness. Be that as it may, you will have to take this test over again as well."

All three failures stepped up together and pointed at that which was in Roggie's fist. "What about him?" they asked in unison.

"Mardil, m'dears, has not even begun to do the least lifting of a finger to achieve his quest. Perhaps he is in one of his moods, silly as that would be. Or maybe something has happened to his mind. Whatever it is, the controlling mechanism that governs the wisdom and intelligence in the young man, is for the time being absent, and is expected to return to him at any time. Until it does, Mardil will probably not be much help nor fun nor a passer of tests. Hmmm......"

Anakron had stopped speaking because he was watching the scene upon the mountain. Roggie and Queen Quon had spotted each other. Worse, Rowling had spotted Mardil and had fallen into a fit of hysteria, as if Mardil was some evil entity from the worst of her nightmares. It couldn't possibly have been Roggie, now, could it? Queen Quon roared and beat her chest (with the one hand not occupied with carrying the screaming Rowling, which is somewhat of a shame, as it certainly would have shut her up). Roggie reached behind him and pulled out a black, flaming whip. They were about to exchange blows when a third roar came from the opposite side of the mountain. It was CoDzilla with all his nuclear heated breath.

"Where'd he come from?!" screamed Bleater Quackson.

"Oh, he's been hanging around hereabouts," Anakron drawled. "I thought his presence might lend a certain excitement to your monster battle."

"But- but- he'll change everything!"

"Since when has that stopped you?" Anakron retorted. "Now be quiet and watch."

CoDzilla breathed flame on both of his two opponents. Roggie lit up.

"But what will happen to Mardil?" Alli cried.

"You should have asked Illamatar while you had a chance," Anakron replied.

But the Offending Party member seemed to be protected by some spell the Balrog had cast over him. Meanwhile, Queen Quon's fur caught fire, and Rowling became a living, screaming torch. Well, make that a wick on a torch, because Queen Quon was acting rather torch-like herself. She danced on the volcano, melting the stones beneath her apish feet. Roggie lashed her with his whip, which caught her and dragged her to the gaping crater between them. CoDzilla breathed fire again. Roggie flamed hotter. Queenie fell to the ground with a thundering thump that caused the ground to shake. In another moment, she had fallen into the crater, shrieking in fear and rage. Roggie jumped in after her. CoDzilla looked wide eyed at the crater (which was a strange thing to see a reptilian monster do, with his inexpressive red eyes, but he did it; believe me). He stomped to the edge of the crater and breathed his fire down into it. The crater had been turning from cold gray to a glowing red since Roggie had jumped into it; now it changed to a fierce, hot red. CoDzilla dropped in, and the hot crater began to boil.

"Goodbye, Casino and Resort," Anakron murmured, "I will not miss you."

The volcano heaved. Magma flowed over the edge of the crater, in all directions.

"I suggest that we move a little farther back from the scene," Anakron said.

All those within earshot did as he suggested, looking back nevertheless with wonder at the cataclysm before them.

To make a longish story shorter than it might be, Elempí cut to the chase and explained that he could write all kinds of description about how the magma flowed down the mountainsides, how the casino and resort were engulfed in its river, and how screaming hordes of foolish betters fled as fast as their feet could take them, and some of them escaped. But that will have to do, for we have a main point to get to. And here it is. The magma rivulets actually just about made it to the feet of the Offending Party and the others who stood with them. At the farthest point to which the magma had flowed, something strange had happened. Each little stream finished in a finger-sized golden ring, looking very hot and very heavy, but very cool to the touch, for Anakron picked one up.

He held it up and said, "Who would like one?"

"I'll take it!" Bleater cried, his hands outstretched greedily.

"I always knew where your heart really lay," Anakron intoned, and handed him the ring. Bleater put it on. The finger on which he put it disappeared.

Bleater's eyes went wide. "My finger! It's gone."

"No, fool, feel it."

Bleater felt it. Then he grinned. "It's there!" Then his grin disappeared into a look of disappointment. "But it's only my finger. What good is that?"

Lurge, Sai Onara's orc, picked up another ring and put it on his finger. His head disappeared.

"But what about Mardil?" Alli asked. "Is he, um, well, dead?"

"No." Anakron replied. "He is safe as long as Roggie keeps him."

"Well, I have another question," Alli continued. "What did Bleater pay my Roggie to take a part in this flick? I know he doesn't give two maggots for a Troll, if you'll pardon the pun-"

"I won't," said Anakron.

"-but what did Roggie agree to?"

"Becoming the new Lord of Mount Doom."

Alli's eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect "O".

"And now," said Anakron, "it is time to move on to the Fourth Test. Fordim, Aimé, Offending Party, all of you must come with me. We have a flight to catch to a certain village." Anakron stopped. "Oh, and Bleater, go tell CoDzilla he'll be needed too."

"What's the village called?" Fléin asked.

"Dol Gaurgauroth."