Book III Chapter 7 "Deem's Help"
Bruce N. Hietbrink
I do really apologize. I was about to resign my post
and ask someone to take over for me, but a temporary
lull in aardvarks has allowed me to knock out my chapter.
Here it is. I don't promise greatness. Be gentle.
Deem's Help
Forth they rode from the gates of Medusald. In the red light of
the setting sun the fields of dandelions appeared to be ablaze.
As they rode past the silent graves, Giggly read the inscriptions
aloud.
"Thengel, and his cat Tiger"
"Fengel, and his dog Rex"
"Folcwine, with his fish Goldie"
"Folca, with his dog Prince"
"Walda, and his lizard Bert"
"Fluffy, and his dog Brylca"
"Um, I think you got that one backwards," corrected Lego-lass.
"No, that's what it said," insisted Giggly. "Let's ask one of
the locals. Hey, Eonard! What can you tell us about King Fluffy?"
"Those were dark days for Rohan," replied Eonard, "of which we
do not speak."
They rode on in silence, into the deepening night.
Slowly, though, a light grew in the west, as if the sun had decided
to make a u-turn after sunset. Gandalf called Lego-lass forward.
"Can you make out the source of that light?" he asked. "It's coming
from up towards Isengard. I fear that Aruman is brewing some
new trouble for us."
Lego-lass peered towards the glow on the horizon. "I don't
understand what it is that I'm seeing," she reported, "I can see
the tower of Orthanc silouetted against hundreds of bright
lights. The glares is too great to make out any details, though."
"I must be off!" exclaimed Gandalf. "HeyHoDen, you'll have to get down
and ride with Eonard and Aragon." At this, Eonard and Aragon's
horse let out a grunt of dismay, but somehow HeyHoDen was able
to scramble onto his back.
As Gandalf rode off in haste, one of the farmers asked the
smith marching beside him what was up.
"'Tis none of our business," said the smith. "The affairs of
our betters are too high for such as we."
"Humph," snorted the farmer, "I say he's running off as soon
as the danger starts, leaving our butts out here on the line.
Darn wizards. They're going to be the first ones against the
wall when the revolution comes. Them and suck-up smiths, that
is."
The horses were getting worn out with two or three riders each,
so Aragon and Lego-lass went now with Eonard in the van. As the
internal combustion engine was not to be invented for another few
millenia, though, the van had to be pushed by six of the peasants,
including one very irate farmer. "Darn princes and elves are going
to be up against the wall pretty soon after the wizards and smiths."
They decided to turn aside from the Isengard road to take refuge in
the fortress of Deem's Help, because they felt that this would also
be a good place to make their stand. It didn't hurt that Erkenbrand,
the commander of the Hornburg, was known to stock the best wine
cellar north of Gondor(tm). Deem's Help was a narrow
canyon cut back into the mountains. A wall stretched across the
mouth of the canyon, at one end of which stood the fortress known
as the Hornburg. It was named after the great jazz bands of old.
In the days when Deem himself lived in the fortress, they would have
open-air concerts in the canyon, and the surrounding hills acted as
a natural ampitheater. Even today a trumpet blast from the walls
of the Hornburg would make the hills ring with the sound of music.
Julie Andrews herself could do no better.
"Who goes there?" came the challenge from above the gate into
the Help. "Does the Golden Hall send any aid in our time of need?
Oh, it's just you, Eonard. Can't be helped I suppose. Who's that
you brought with you, then?"
"Do you not recognize your lord and master? Come forth and
kneel before King HeyHoDen!" came the response from Eonard.
"My liege!" grovelled the guard. "We had feared that . . ."
"That I was hidden in Meduseld, beguiled by the lies of a traitor?"
finished HeyHoDen.
"Well, not that exactly. Mainly we just thought you were too lazy
to get off your fat butt and ride all the way out here. The word
in the outer provinces is that you've turned into a total couch
potato." Then, turning back to the guard tower, he cried out "Open
the gates! Your King is here!"
Glad cries of "Hey! Ho!" arose from the walls. The king of the Mark rode
through the open gates, flanked by his sister-son and sister-daughter,
not to mention his brother-neighbor-cousin-dog-groomer-lover-aunt-husband-
nephew-friend, and several other relations of even greater removal. Aragon,
Giggly, Lego-lass, and Arwen were left milling around with various smiths
and farmers outside the walls.
"This is more like it," chuckled Giggly, looking around at the cliffs.
"No more
forests and plains for me. This country has good bones. The sinews are
only so-so, but the bones are really good."
"How do you feel about the cartilige?" asked Lego-lass.
"Not as good as the bones, but definitely first rate."
"Stop your dawdling," ordered Aragon, "we have to prepare. Even now
the forces of Aruman approach."
They could see an ominous glow coming up the valley, sillouetting the
orc-forms coming before it. Luckily they were able to set up the
barbecue and have dinner before the hoard of orcs approached the
gates. Before they were done clearing the dishes, though, the enemy
ranks filled the valley. The shouts of the prefects rose above the
general confusion.
"50 house points for the first one through the gates!"
"Move that battering ram into place!"
"Fight for the honor of house and school!"
"No more non-selective comprehensive education!"
"Kill the commoners!"
"Halt!" Shouted Aragon from the wall. A strange silence settled over
the orc horde as they stopped to listen to his words. "They say the
Hornburg has never fallen when a rabble of farmers and smiths has
stood to defend it. Turn back now and you will be allowed to live."
He was answered with derisive laughter. "We are the Uruk-Hai Prefects!
We fear no man, be he farmer or smith!" Aragon jumped back as a
rain of arrows flew toward his position, and the battle was begun.
The defenders of the Hornburg and of the wall across the Help were
sorely pressed. Lego-lass and Giggly found themselves beset by foes
who had gained the top of the wall.
"How do you fare?" grunted Giggly as he ducked under a swinging
sword.
"Not so bad. There's six!" Lego-lass counted as she pulled her dagger
from the corpse of a falling orc.
"I've killed eight." Returned Giggly, bringing his battle-axe down on
another foe. "Make that nine."
Suddenly there was a lull, as the top of the wall was free of orcs
for the moment. "I say," mused Lego-lass, pulling out her bow and
firing off a couple of arrows at the army below, "have you ever really
thought about it? There's eight, by the way."
"Thought about what?" asked Giggly.
"Well, doesn't it seem a bit, well (nine), wrong, to you? We just
assume (ten) that all orcs are our foes (eleven) because of their
ancestry?"
"Here they come again!" shouted Giggly as a group of orcs came
up a ladder. He ran to the point where they overtopped the
wall, axe swinging. "Now that you put it that way, (ten) it does seem
a little odd (eleven). One would have hoped that by the end of the
Third Age we'd be beyond such race-based thinking (twelve and
thirteen)." As the headless body fell at his feet he turned back
to Lego-lass.
"Exactly (twelve)!" came back Lego-lass, firing arrows as fast as
she could put notch to bowstring. "There's thirteen, we're tied!
Anyway, look at us (fourteen, I'm winning!). As elf-maid and dwerrow,
we should hate eachother, but our budding relationship proves
the opposite."
"You've given me much to think on, fair Lego-lass. Perhaps this anti-orc
prejudice of ours is unwarranted, and we should seek to reform rather
than kill them. By the way, as you were speaking I got six more. My count
is up to nineteen. Hey Arwen!" he shouted to the leather-clad elf who
was approaching, "My count is nineteen, and Legolass is at fourteen. ["It's
sixteen now, dear"] How does the battle fare for you?"
"I've killed three-hundred and seventy-two. I'd like to see them leave
THAT out of the movie," replied Arwen.
The fighting ran on late into the night. Epic songs have been sung of
the brave deeds of farmer and smith in defense of their king and
country. In the morning light the rabble of Rohan prepared for one
last push. Even HeyHoDen put on his armor and stood in the first
company with Aragon, Lego-lass, and Arwen. Eonard was skulking
around, complaining to anyone who would listen about Aragon getting
top billing. Eowyn was sent to her room, told that women weren't allowed
to fight. "What about Arwen and Lego-lass?" she whined. "They're elves,
it's different," came the reply. Giggly had disappeared during the
night. It was rumored that he'd retreated to the caves with a band
of smiths. HeyHoDen addressed the troops.
"Today, men, is a good day to die . . . "
"Bummer of a pep-talk, pops!" came a voice from the back of the crowd.
"Quiet! As I was saying, today is a good day to die. That's why I want my
sister-son Eonard to lead the first charge. The rest of us will follow anon.
We fight, my friends, for our way of life. We fight for the right of all
men to send their children to good schools, that they may learn to read
the tales of our battle today. The enemy wants to reserve that right
for only the upper classes who can afford their fancy schools . . . "
"Hey, didn't you send your son to . . . " interrupted the voice from the
back of the crowd.
"Someone shut that guy up!" HeyHoDen cut him off. "This is your destiny,
men. We ride forth into glory! We ride forth into history! Hey! Ho!"
The battle cry of Rohan was taken up by the crowd. Shouts of "Hey!" and
"Ho!" rang out as the gates of the Hornburg were thrown open with a
blast of trumpets and they surged out to meet . . . nothing. Where the
orc armies had been encamped there was a strange forest of poles of
differing shapes and heights (now darkened). Not an orc was too be seen.
Just then Gandalf rode up on Slimshade.
"Where've you been?" asked Aragon.
"Oh, you know, out and about, looking for the army. They assured me
they'd be along sometime later today. They have to all get their uniforms
back from the cleaners and should be along after having a nice brunch and
maybe playing a round of golf. How'd it go here, then?"
"Damned wizards and soldiers," muttered a certain farmer in the back
of the crowd, "always gone in the midst of trouble. They'll be up against
the wall when the revolution comes, to be sure."
The revolution would not come today, though. Today the King of Rohan
rode triumphant from the field of battle.
O. Sharp
Ahhhh ha ha ha ha haaaaaaa! :) Well done! I'd say it was worth the
wait. :)
I am now _terribly_ curious, though, about King Deem's jazz career, and
whether HeyHoDen's name is therefore a hearkening to Cab Calloway's
"Hi-de-Hi-de-Ho". Shall Denethor(tm) lay our Dr. Faramir in St. James
Infirmiary? :) :)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
o...@speakeasy.org ...Mr. Sulger? Tag! You're it!...
Morgil
Bruce N. Hietbrink kirjoitti viestissä ...
>
>Deem's Help
>
>
>Forth they rode from the gates of Medusald. In the red light of
>the setting sun the fields of dandelions appeared to be ablaze.
>As they rode past the silent graves, Giggly read the inscriptions
>aloud.
>"Thengel, and his cat Tiger"
>"Fengel, and his dog Rex"
>"Folcwine, with his fish Goldie"
>"Folca, with his dog Prince"
>"Walda, and his lizard Bert"
>"Fluffy, and his dog Brylca"
>"Um, I think you got that one backwards," corrected Lego-lass.
>"No, that's what it said," insisted Giggly. "Let's ask one of
>the locals. Hey, Eonard! What can you tell us about King Fluffy?"
>"Those were dark days for Rohan," replied Eonard, "of which we
>do not speak."
I don´t really know why, but that was absolutely hilarious.
And ther rest was even better.
Congratsulations! Excellent work!
Morgil
Carl Blondin
earlier anyways. However, I have to ask you something, can you come up
with an other name than Slimshade for Gandalf's horse? I don't know if
you saw that thread, but the first name was Cable Connection, then
unknowingly changed to Slimshade and the use was pretty good for the
name. I was the first one to come up with the name, so I decided that
to keep Slimshade in the chapter, every following author would have to
find a different name for him. So can you change it? I'll ask the same
thing of our Confused Sir, I just noticed that he uses Slimshade also.
( I hope that was clear and to to offensive...)
Carl
J_R_R_...@frodo.net
Bruce N. Hietbrink
<J_R_R_...@frodo.net> wrote:
Sure, I'd be happy to change the name. I don't have any
particularly clever ideas, though. Some suggestions:
Xafwodahs
XiadoFAQs
Equivoque
Nader
Given that I only mention the horse by name once in the
chapter, the line "Just then Gandalf rode up on Slimshade"
in the next to last paragraph should probably be changed
to "Just then Gandalf rode up on his horse ___________."
Otherwise it would be confusing. I'd go with whichever
of the above suggestions people like, or if someone has
a better idea I'm open to hear it.
Bruce
David Sulger
"O. Sharp" <o...@speakeasy.org> wrote:
...Mr. Sulger? Tag! You're it!...
>
Yup.
I don't have anything better to do at the moment, so I'm going to get
to work on it right away. I've waited long enough to write it.
--Dave
Send e-mail to ds50.geo at yahoo.com
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
David Sulger
b...@chem.ucla.edu (Bruce N. Hietbrink) wrote:
>
> I do really apologize. I was about to resign my post
> and ask someone to take over for me, but a temporary
> lull in aardvarks has allowed me to knock out my chapter.
> Here it is. I don't promise greatness. Be gentle.
>
I'll probably get it posted fairly soon, within the next couple of days
or so.
Öjevind Lång
[snip]
>"I must be off!" exclaimed Gandalf. "HeyHoDen, you'll have to get down
>and ride with Eonard and Aragon." At this, Eonard and Aragon's
>horse let out a grunt of dismay, but somehow HeyHoDen was able
>to scramble onto his back.
Poor horse! Groaning under three riders, one of them the obese Aragon.
>As Gandalf rode off in haste, one of the farmers asked the
>smith marching beside him what was up.
>"'Tis none of our business," said the smith. "The affairs of
>our betters are too high for such as we."
>"Humph," snorted the farmer, "I say he's running off as soon
>as the danger starts, leaving our butts out here on the line.
>Darn wizards. They're going to be the first ones against the
>wall when the revolution comes. Them and suck-up smiths, that
>is."
I notice that the spirit of the Red Menace is spreading across
Middle-earth...
[snip]
>
>They decided to turn aside from the Isengard road to take refuge in
>the fortress of Deem's Help, because they felt that this would also
>be a good place to make their stand. It didn't hurt that Erkenbrand,
>the commander of the Hornburg, was known to stock the best wine
>cellar north of Gondor(tm). Deem's Help was a narrow
>canyon cut back into the mountains. A wall stretched across the
>mouth of the canyon, at one end of which stood the fortress known
>as the Hornburg. It was named after the great jazz bands of old.
>In the days when Deem himself lived in the fortress, they would have
>open-air concerts in the canyon, and the surrounding hills acted as
>a natural ampitheater. Even today a trumpet blast from the walls
>of the Hornburg would make the hills ring with the sound of music.
>Julie Andrews herself could do no better.
Glorious! That one had me rolling.
[snip]
>
>They could see an ominous glow coming up the valley, sillouetting the
>orc-forms coming before it. Luckily they were able to set up the
>barbecue and have dinner before the hoard of orcs approached the
>gates. Before they were done clearing the dishes, though, the enemy
>ranks filled the valley. The shouts of the prefects rose above the
>general confusion.
>"50 house points for the first one through the gates!"
>"Move that battering ram into place!"
>"Fight for the honor of house and school!"
>"No more non-selective comprehensive education!"
>"Kill the commoners!"
Wow! The entire War of the Rings seems to be turning into a class war. What
business does Sir Frodo Baggins, of Moneybags Hall, Nurnenshire,have being
on the side of the plebs?
[snip]
>The fighting ran on late into the night. Epic songs have been sung of
>the brave deeds of farmer and smith in defense of their king and
>country. In the morning light the rabble of Rohan prepared for one
>last push. Even HeyHoDen put on his armor and stood in the first
>company with Aragon, Lego-lass, and Arwen. Eonard was skulking
>around, complaining to anyone who would listen about Aragon getting
>top billing. Eowyn was sent to her room, told that women weren't allowed
>to fight. "What about Arwen and Lego-lass?" she whined. "They're elves,
>it's different," came the reply.
*Typical*. That's parents (and uncles) for you.
Giggly had disappeared during the
>night. It was rumored that he'd retreated to the caves with a band
>of smiths. HeyHoDen addressed the troops.
>
>"Today, men, is a good day to die . . . "
>
>"Bummer of a pep-talk, pops!" came a voice from the back of the crowd.
>
>"Quiet! As I was saying, today is a good day to die. That's why I want my
>sister-son Eonard to lead the first charge. The rest of us will follow
anon.
>We fight, my friends, for our way of life. We fight for the right of all
>men to send their children to good schools, that they may learn to read
>the tales of our battle today. The enemy wants to reserve that right
>for only the upper classes who can afford their fancy schools . . . "
>
>"Hey, didn't you send your son to . . . " interrupted the voice from the
>back of the crowd.
>
>"Someone shut that guy up!" HeyHoDen cut him off. "This is your destiny,
>men. We ride forth into glory! We ride forth into history! Hey! Ho!"
[snip]
>
>"Damned wizards and soldiers," muttered a certain farmer in the back
>of the crowd, "always gone in the midst of trouble. They'll be up against
>the wall when the revolution comes, to be sure."
Yes, class hatred is obviously rife in Middle-earth.
Great chapter! :-)
Öjevind
Öjevind Lång
>It was worth the wait, I wouldn't've had time to read it had it come out
>earlier anyways. However, I have to ask you something, can you come up
>with an other name than Slimshade for Gandalf's horse? I don't know if
>you saw that thread, but the first name was Cable Connection, then
>unknowingly changed to Slimshade and the use was pretty good for the
>name. I was the first one to come up with the name, so I decided that
>to keep Slimshade in the chapter, every following author would have to
>find a different name for him. So can you change it? I'll ask the same
>thing of our Confused Sir, I just noticed that he uses Slimshade also.
I thought we had agreed that Gandalf's horse suffers from multiple
personality disorder and hence keeps changing names.
Öjevind
Raven
news:EADO5.96$Sl4...@nntpserver.swip.net...
> Wow! The entire War of the Rings seems to be turning into a class
> war. What business does Sir Frodo Baggins, of Moneybags Hall,
> Nurnenshire,have being on the side of the plebs?
Probably one of those useful idiots Lenin spoke of, supporting the
revolution except where they benefit from the status quo. West End
socialists, you know. "Kystbanesocialister" in Danish, where
"Kystbanen" is the area, also known as the "Whisky Belt", north of
Copenhagen where many rich people live.
Korpen.
Bruce N. Hietbrink
<ojevin...@swipnet.se> wrote:
>
> Wow! The entire War of the Rings seems to be turning into a class war. What
> business does Sir Frodo Baggins, of Moneybags Hall, Nurnenshire,have being
> on the side of the plebs?
>
Who says he will in the end? He might end up settling in to
his Mordor estates and supporting the upper classes.
Bruce
Carl Blondin
Yeah, that was it, but I saw that it didn't, the message apparently
didn't get around. Hopefully everybody will know now.
Carl
Carl Blondin
"Bruce N. Hietbrink" wrote:
>
> > >
> > > ( I hope that was clear and to to offensive...)
That was supposed to read NOT to offensive, oups..
> > >
> > > Carl
>
> Sure, I'd be happy to change the name. I don't have any
> particularly clever ideas, though. Some suggestions:
> Xafwodahs
> XiadoFAQs
> Equivoque
> Nader
> Given that I only mention the horse by name once in the
> chapter, the line "Just then Gandalf rode up on Slimshade"
> in the next to last paragraph should probably be changed
> to "Just then Gandalf rode up on his horse ___________."
> Otherwise it would be confusing. I'd go with whichever
> of the above suggestions people like, or if someone has
> a better idea I'm open to hear it.
How about The Horse With No Name, or The Horse Formely Known as
Slimshade/CableConnection?
Carl
David Sulger
> <ojevin...@swipnet.se> wrote:
>
> >
> > war. What business does Sir Frodo Baggins, of Moneybags Hall,
> > Nurnenshire,have being on the side of the plebs?
> >
>
> Mordor estates and supporting the upper classes.
>
Öjevind Lång
>Öjevind Lång skrev...
>
>> Wow! The entire War of the Rings seems to be turning into a class
>> war. What business does Sir Frodo Baggins, of Moneybags Hall,
>> Nurnenshire,have being on the side of the plebs?
> Probably one of those useful idiots Lenin spoke of, supporting the
>revolution except where they benefit from the status quo. West End
>socialists, you know. "Kystbanesocialister" in Danish, where
>"Kystbanen" is the area, also known as the "Whisky Belt", north of
>Copenhagen where many rich people live.
In Swedish, they are called "rödvinsvänstern" ("the Red Wine Left") or, now
that they are getting on, "hängbröstvänstern" ("the Flabby Breasts Left").
Öjevind
Russ
<ojevin...@swipnet.se> writes:
In America we call them the Limosine Liberals.
Russ
Robert Brady
> In Swedish, they are called "rödvinsvänstern" ("the Red Wine Left") or, now
> that they are getting on, "hängbröstvänstern" ("the Flabby Breasts Left").
Or in Britain "champagne socialists".
--
Robert
Öjevind Lång
>"Öjevind Lång" writes:
>>>> Wow! The entire War of the Rings seems to be turning into a class
>>>> war. What business does Sir Frodo Baggins, of Moneybags Hall,
>>>> Nurnenshire,have being on the side of the plebs?
>>> Probably one of those useful idiots Lenin spoke of, supporting the
>>>revolution except where they benefit from the status quo. West End
>>>socialists, you know. "Kystbanesocialister" in Danish, where
>>>"Kystbanen" is the area, also known as the "Whisky Belt", north of
>>>Copenhagen where many rich people live.
>>
>>
>>In Swedish, they are called "rödvinsvänstern" ("the Red Wine Left") or,
now
>>that they are getting on, "hängbröstvänstern" ("the Flabby Breasts Left").
>>
>
>In America we call them the Limousine Liberals.
And Robert says they are called "champagne socialists" in Britain. At least
they seem to have managed to acquire a bit more of worldly goods in your
respective countries. Though actually, it is amazing how often the Swedish
variety seem to lead privileged lives, despise "ordinary people" and treat
them like shit. For example, I have seen them behave towards the staff in
restaurants in a way no normal person would dream of doing. And after having
insulted the waiter they ignore him and go on discussing among themselves
"how to make the working classes aware of their true situation".
Öjevind
Raven
news:y6YP5.1652$Sl4....@nntpserver.swip.net...
[Red wine socialists]
> And after having insulted the waiter they ignore him and go on
> discussing among themselves "how to make the working
> classes aware of their true situation".
Well, that's okay then. They just did.
Corvo.
Öjevind Lång
>"Öjevind Lång" skrev i en meddelelse...
>
> [Red wine socialists]
>> And after having insulted the waiter they ignore him and go on
>> discussing among themselves "how to make the working
>> classes aware of their true situation".
>
> Well, that's okay then. They just did.
Say, that must be it! They are deliberately behaving like swine in order to
put the lower orders in a revolutionary, bloodthirsty frame of mind.
Öjevind
Raven
> > [Red wine socialists]
> >> And after having insulted the waiter they ignore him and go on
> >> discussing among themselves "how to make the working
> >> classes aware of their true situation".
> > Well, that's okay then. They just did.
> Say, that must be it! They are deliberately behaving like swine in
> order to put the lower orders in a revolutionary, bloodthirsty
> frame of mind.
Well, reality is sometimes as strange as fiction. We may laugh
derisively at those red wine socialists and make up such motives for
them to mock them as they deserve. But what I learnt about the
Communist Party in Denmark in the thirties is that they often voted
*against* legislation to ease conditions for workers. The motive was
precisely that: to keep them unhappy so that they would eventually rise
in arms. Presumably then the CP would be the natural leaders of the
revolution - very convenient.
Sad modern Communists. The workers have been *bribed* by good
workplace conditions, higher wages (many actually own their own
*houses*; contrast that with the twenties and thirties), the right to
vote etc., and are now no longer ready to overthrow their oppressors and
force their way out of grinding poverty and cruel oppression. Perhaps
this is why some modern Communists in this country have joined forces
with this year's Miss Balrog runner-up on the EU issue: keep Denmark
Danish.
(I can find better arguments against the EU than that.)
Korpen.
Robert Brady
> Say, that must be it! They are deliberately behaving like swine in order to
> put the lower orders in a revolutionary, bloodthirsty frame of mind.
Does that make it alright, though?
--
Robert