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Barad-dur :: Tower of the Nine
Akhorahil of the Nine

"I'm not riding on your stupid Ridley. I'm not going anywhere."

Akhorahil crossed his arms, showing his painful stubbornness. However, it was only minutes before his eyes widened(or those eyes that existed in the Shadow-realm, at the very least). If he could not ride on Wilma...

...he would ride on the very reincarnation of Wilma!

"Brilliant!" he cried suddenly, much to the shock and surprise of the others. "I shall perfrom ancient rituals by those heathen kings of old. I shall call Wilma's soul back from the Void, and embody her into her rotting corpse so that we may fly together once more!

"This is possible because I returned to Minas Ithil in secret and saved Wilma's body from the mass burial the West-men were performing. It sits still in my room as we speak! What an ingenious plan!" And Akhorahil grinned. For a second or two.

Then he remembered that, being a Black Numenorean, he didn't know any of the ancient rituals of the heathen kings of old. "Well, s**t."

And once more he became depressed.

Barad-dur :: Tower of the Nine
Akhorahil of the Nine

Akhoahil glared at Murazor. He considered throwing another random curse at the clearly incompetant Witch-king, but upon realizing that no one was taking him seriously, he gave up entirely. "It is clear that nothing I say will make you feel pity for me. I suppose that should be a good thing, for we Nine are meant to be pitiless. But may I ask how you would feel if Ridely were to fall?

"I shall plot my ill-contempt for you elsewhere. Perhaps in Rhun. Yes, Rhun, for I can see that I must accompany you, else I suffer. I shall go now to the stables nigh the tent fields and have entrusted to me a new steed; clearly, onw who is not nearly as well-suited for me as the magnificient Wilma, but my duty is clear, and I do accept-"

Barad-dur :: Tower of the Nine
Akhorahil of the Nine

He glared, oh how he glared. Akhorahil had glared quite a bit in the past few minutes, and he showed no desire to stop. Ji Indur was the one whom he glared at. He was perhaps only halfway through his eloquent sililoquay when that wretched Ji Indur cut him off, screaming about jewels and diamonds and Rhun and whatever.

He attempted to continue, but the thought was lost. "If you need me," he growled, "I'll be in the stables, finding an unused beast. Feh."

And so he began the long march towards the tent fields. He made certain, however, that he pushed Adunaphel down the stairs as he went. "Heh. Stupid Adunaphel," he grinned as she tumbled down the many flights, just behind Ji Indur.

Barad-dur :: Tower of the Nine
Akhorahil of the Nine

Depressed though he may be, he was not quite so depressed as to realize that his non-life was in the gravest of perils. There are no words in the tongues of Men, Elves, nor Ents to describe the fear that Akhorahil felt in that deadliest of hours. At the bottom of the stairwell was Adunaphel, whereas he was at the very top. "Alas! Woe betides me, for mine enemy does stand between me and my sole exit. How can I now escape thei great peril, for it is but a matter of time before she reaches me. If only Wilma were here to aid me... ah!" And in that moment Akhorahil realized that Wilma could help him. Swiftly then, he returned to his room.

Thus it was that as Adunaphel rushed up the stairs did she find the carcass of a rotting Fell-beast rolling her way; too large to avoid, unless she were to retreat downwards. Akhorahil, meanwhile, was climbing down the side of the Tower of the Nazgul, using a rope made of bedsheets and pillowcases, hastily crafted in that very hour.

"I can only hope she doesn't cut this thing apart before I get down. I can also only hope that I didn't drop the end of this into the lava-moat."

Barad-dur:: Lava-moats
Akhorahil of the Nine

The journey to the base of the Lugburz was not a pleasant one. As Akhorahil had predicted, his window was situated just over the lava moat. It had taken fifteen minutes for him to get the momentum needed to swing to a nearby bridge. Even then, he had miscalculated the distance, and had very nearly plummeted into the hot liquid magma below. If not for the conveniently placed tree branch, he very well may have been singed, or worse - disrobed! But the tree branch was present, and from there, he was able to climb back up to the bridge. "Why there is a tree branch sticking out of the iron workings of Barad-dur, I don't know, but praise be to Morgoth anyway."

He was finally safe; free from Adunaphel and free from lava. Slowly, he made his way to the tent fields. If he could summon a Fell-beast before Adunaphel, he would be safe for all time. Or at least until she summoned one. Either way, he'd be safe for a few minutes.

As he crossed the bridge, he pushed a few Orcs into the lava-moat. "Heh. Stupid Orcs."

Tent Fields :: Stables
Akhorahil of the Nine

"Welcome, friend, to the Happy Fell-beast Corral. How may I help ye?"

"Shut up. Just shut up. Wait. Happy? What is 'Happy' supposed to mean?"

"Well, this corral is a Happy corral!"

"You failed Evil School, didn't you?"

"Feh. You're one to talk. You're a Nazgul, and everybody knows that the Nazgul are the most incompetent idiots to ever step foot into Mor-"

Alas! Perhaps the master of the Happy Fell-beast Corral had something genuinely ingenious to say. But his sage words are not recorded in any record of Elves nor Men, for in that fateful hour Akhorahil took up his sword and deftly removed the head of that Orc. "I wish everybody would just shut up," said Akhorahil, as the head landed squarely in the midst of the young Fell-beasts.

He watched with sadistic delight as the Fell-beasts tore at one another in a frenzied rush to be the lucky one to feed. "How utterly delightful!" he cackled, taking keen interest as one of them lunged at the throat of another. He grinned. And it was not just a grin; it was an evil grin. It was an evil grin to match the evil grin of the Grinch who very nearly stole Yule! "I have found my Fell-beast."

And then... silence.

"I suppose I should have slaughtered the Orc after he had saddled the Fell-beast. Oh well. Hindsight is twenty / twenty. Whatever that means." And so began the long and hideous effort to saddle the Fell-beast. It was only made longer when he heard Adunaphel’s screams outside. "Crapcrapcrapcrap..."

Outside Barad-dur

Uvatha ran out of the tower, calling her fell-beast as she ran. She mounted, and flew over to Akhorahil, with Adunaphel closing in. She landed a short distance away. More fun! She cried gleefully. More fun until the real fun begins... She watched eagerly as Adunaphel closed the distance.

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