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Thread: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

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    Icon1 The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    The Accountant's Trial

    or,

    The Tales of the less known, nervous Tenth Nazgûl

    This is a tale to be taken lightly; it's not made to be entirely lore correct (duh) or to be taken very seriously. So sit back, and let's have some fun shall we?

    List of current Main Characters:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Ftnnah, the not very known Nazgûl, who sort of got swept along
    Nargak, Ftnnah's Head Secretary and an orc with an unusually sharp intellect
    Sauron, The Dark Lord
    The Nine (The more known Nazgûls)


    Prologue: In The Beginning
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    It was a dark day for most of the Orcs and Uruks who were garrisoned at Cirith Ungol. Then again, most days were dark in the land of Mordor. They had to be, because of a little fact about orcs and their ilk is that they suffer from the effects of widespread xeroderma, which essentially is a sort of allergicness to sunlight. It’s generally agreed that this is so because of the Valar’s displeasure with their race, however the few scientist that are employed by the Dark Lord rather believe that this is so because of the general bad diet of Sauron’s armies, and the fact that these days basically no newly formed orcs are ever exposed to sunlight* until they’re fully grown and a part of the war machine.

    *for instance, the usage of sending forth ash clouds to cover the orcs advance wherever they were was created by Melkor, originally said to be used as a demoralizing factor against the enemy, which may or may not have contributed to this widespread case of xeroderma, depending on how close the scientists tend to be to the Dark Lord

    But then again, in a state basically run as a theological dictatorship, science has never held much sway in the greater politics of things. So, by de facto it was a dark day, as in there was no sunlight or entertainment to lighten up the day, but that was not why the Orcs and Uruks were having a darker day than usual. As they were slowly and chaotically trying to form a line leading into the Keep, they held small sheets of paper in their hands, and looked about as nervous as pigeons with diarrhea (which can be argued to be pigeon’s natural state of being). Hushed conversations were being held.
    ´Is it really ‘im? Not some sort of... Exercise?`
    ´I dun know. All I was told was to be here with my record. I didn’t even know I had one!`
    ´I heard that he’s some sort of big shot, back at the Fortress.`
    ´Has anyone seen my paper? Is sort of… papery!`
    One by one the troopers were called into the Keep, each one with a look of one who’s about to be forced to tie his own noose.

    Inside the workplace of the Chief Armourer of Cirith Ungol, a desk had been improvised together, mainly made up by a stretching table borrowed from the Chief Torturer, which in a sort of way was fitting, thought the person who was sitting behind it. He held a bunch of papers in one armoured hand and a cup of Orc Draught carefully watered out and spiced with mint in the other. The “person” in question was called Ftnnah, and he was a Nazgûl… Sort of. He was also the Dark Lord’s Head of the Accounting Department, a dark, secretive branch of Sauron’s Administration. In fact, it was probably one of the few departments of the Administration that actually did administration. The rest were merely… honorary titles.

    Technically, Ftnnah was a Nazgûl; however he was not one of The Nine. Before he became his current form, he had been the Steward of the Nazgûl now known as The Witchking of Angmar. Because of his constant presence with the Man who would become the Leader of The Nine, and that he was entrusted with his master’s mythical ring whenever he had to take a bath, when the day had come when his master was called to Sauron and turned into a Nazgûl, Ftnnah had sort… been swept along. Like the small fish who hanged out with the sharks in hope of passing unnoticed, where his master went, he also went. This had been slightly embarrassing for all parties when this mistake was discovered, and he was brought before the Dark Lord himself who had been rather confused as to why he was there, and now more importantly, what would be done with him. Everyone knew that there were nine rings of power handed to Man, and therefore, there were Nine Black Riders. Having Ten Black Riders might raise discomforting questions, and more importantly, is an embarrassing stain on the Great Happening of Things.

    It was decided that Ftnnah, so called because that was the only word the Dark Lord had managed to get out of him at that occasion, would be kept a secret and Behind The Curtains. But being a Nazgûl, the deadliest servants of the Dark Lord, Spreaders of Terror and Makers of Bad Events, something had to be done with him. So, after one night of long contemplating and occasional execution of unlucky Orcs who in some way had acted displeasingly in front of the Dark Lord, it was decided that Ftnnah, with his previous occupation in mind, would be put in charge of the newly formed Department of Keeping Check on Lists and Making Sure That Bills Got Paid. When Ftnnah had suggested the name the Accounting Department instead, the Dark Lord had looked bewildered at him before hesitantly giving his agreement and then did his best to forget that the entire farce had in fact happened.

    Ftnnah was from that moment on Head of a Department with non-existent funds (which was the first thing Ftnnah looked into) and a mountain of paperwork which simply was Not There, and no employees to help him. Things had changed a lot from those old good… er, bad… unorganized times. In fact, the whole Defeat by the hands of The Last Alliance had been a blessing of sorts for Ftnnah, since he got the opportunity to start from scratch with the Department, this time with well accounted funds and a steady flow of paperwork when operations had started again. Now, the Accounting Department held accounts of all forces and supplies in the Dark Lord’s Armies, including rolls of wages and taxes. Ftnnah also had a staff mainly composed of those few orcs who are born with an intellect sufficient for writing and reading, and the occasional human slave whom he kept as secretaries and clerks.

    At this moment, he was on a tour of all the garrisoned forts and strongpoint’s of Mordor, for some… well, you might call it tax review. Ftnnah leaned back in his chair, which contained stains of something he dared not think about and gave out a long, tired sigh before turning to his current Head Secretary, Nargak, and tried to ignore the slightly discomforting odor that hung about Nargak like vultures that recently have discovered a newly made mass grave.
    ´Right. Let’s start shall we?`


    Chapter 1: Trees, eh?
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Ftnnah looked on in silence as an Uruk the size of small troll shouldered his way into the room and stood in front of the desk, holding up the small piece of paper desperately, in case he needed to use it as a shield. Ftnnah coughed uncomfortably which immediately triggered a nervous twitch that went through the entire body of the Uruk who looked close to tears. Ftnnah tried to give him that sort of comforting smile accountants tend to do, right before they tell you that while you were busy waiting in line, thank you for complying, their car has already been towed. He stopped himself when he slightly embarrassed remembered that he in fact no longer could smile visibly, so there was no point in doing it. Ftnnah shifted in his seat and spoke up in the best friendly voice he could manage.

    ´So, let me see here… What’s your name trooper?`
    The whites of the Uruks eyes became more dominant as it seemed that his eyes tried to roll over and hide.
    ´G-g-g-g-gaaaaar… Gark-k-kluk, sah.`
    Ftnnah hesitated for a while before Nargak leaned in and whispered something in where he thought Ftnnah’s ear was, or had been. It’s one of those things with invisibility, you’re never quite sure if you’re currently trying to hold a conversation with a chin.
    ´Ah, Garkluk is it you say?` Ftnnah added after giving a thankful nod towards Nargak who had retained his former position. He looked through his papers for a while before looking back up at the by now so mad with terror Uruk Garkluk, that he currently was picturing himself as a rabbit, chewing on pink, fluffy flowers.
    ´Riiight… Says here you have been employed for a full six years here at Cirith Ungol, and three before that at The Towers of the Teeth. Starting to become a veteran eh?` Ftnnah tried to say in his most friendly, encouraging voice.
    The most basic part of the Uruks brain, which handled Basic Survival managed to kick into gear long enough to break past some part of the more horrible delusions currently passing through it’s brain.
    ´Eh… Yes sah.`
    ´Hm… Yes, and it also says here that you have met your work and patrolling quota quite exemplary. Even paid the Dark Lord’s share of the spoils from pillaging! Well done indeed.` Ftnnah tried the friendly tone of voice again, but suspected that it probably didn’t get through to the terrified Uruk. He coughed and tried to take a more stern tone of voice as he continued.
    ´Ok…ay… Now, onto the other reason we are here. We are currently trying to figure out a kill versus losses ratio, as the preliminary reports for the… oh, past six thousand years have been quite… Extraordinary. How many would you say, of the Enemy have you killed and/or maimed beyond repair in your raids? A rough amount would do.` Ftnnah hopefully added in case it could be of help.
    The Uruk’s basic survival instinct, realizing it’s ordeal was not quite over yet, kicked into gear once more, this time forcefully dragging along the part of the Uruks brain that handled counting, which tended to be kept quiet.
    ´Eh… Uhm… M-maybe… Eh… A half?`
    Ftnnah, if he would have been able to, blinked.
    ´Ehm… A half? As in a dwarf?`
    ´No sah… It was a man. B-but… I’m not sure… If… er…`
    ´Take your time.`
    ´Thanks sah… Uh… Well, see… Tekk-nik-ally… He might already have been… Er… Dead sah.`
    ´Well, if he was technically already dead, then how does this count as a kill and/or maiming?`
    The Uruk, now frenetically pushing more parts of its brain into the frontier, looked at Ftnnah hopelessly and continued.
    ´Well, sah… See… He wus twitching.`
    Ftnnah brightened up and tried to give him a wink.
    ´I see! Oh well, I think we shall put it down as a kill then. Well done Garkluk. I think that’s it. Do you have any questions before we part ways?`
    The Uruk looked at Ftnnah with tears in his eyes, and the small piece of paper shaking like a leaf, which it probably had been in a past life, in his huge hands and tried to form out some words. Ftnnah cut in out of poor pity towards the Uruk.
    ´The door is behind you. Farewell, and keep up that goo-… BAD behavior, eh? Cheerio.`
    The Uruk, its survival instincts by now screaming in its ear, turned around and bolted for the door. Ftnnah thought he could hear the heartbreaking sobs descending the stairs in a hurry.

    He sighed and took a sip from his cup, which was something that had taken nearly millennia to figure out, seeing as he could no longer see his mouth. He turned to Nargak and nearly spat out his Draught again as the full aroma of the varied “scents” of Nargak gave his nose a sucker punch. He gulped down the drink forcibly, struggling with it a bit before it surrendered.
    ´Right… What ratio are we up to so far Nargak?`
    Nargak took a quick look at the mathematical numbers scribbled at his paper before he answered hesistantly.
    ´Do you want the current collected total, or the specifics for Cirith Ungol, sir?`
    ´The totals. Surely that last trip must have improved them? Even alittle?` Ftnnah added hopefully.
    ´As of now… We are looking at a general ratio of one to five regarding men, one to seven against dwarves and…` Narguk shuffled his papers a bit before finding the number he wanted. ´And a one to twenty regarding elves. Although I think that last bit might actually be an undercalculation sir. I doubt the garrison at Dol Guldur was telling the truth. Particularly about that part where they supposedly slew a couple of walking trees.`
    Ftnnah chuckled and leaned back on his chair.
    ´Ah yes… The walking, talking trees. Quite some imagination eh? I mean, if the elves could turn the trees themselves on us, we’d be pretty doomed eh? Walking trees… What are they going to do? Slowly sprout acorns at us?`
    Nargak smiled politely, showing his surprisingly well cleaned teeth at Ftnnah, who continued enthusiastically without knowing that his so called “jokes” were widely regarded as Not Really As Funny As He Thinks.
    ´Or… or hope that their falling leaves would pound us into the ground? Might be some birches could give us a whip with one of their branches, eh? Tssk… Walking, talking trees… What’s next? The hosts of our already slain enemies coming back for vengeance?`
    Nargak gave a short uncomfortable laugh, in the hope that it would encourage his master to shut up. Ftnnah shooked his head, amused at his own wit, and looked down at his own papers again.
    ´Heh… Trees… Silly things… Alright, send in the next one, would you be so kind Nargak?`


    Chapter 2: Unnerving news
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    As the end of the day started to loom in the horizon, the ever decreasing line of orc and uruk troopers started to despair. They had all seen their comrades enter the Keep, never to return. (Mainly because the already audited troopers were dispatched through the backdoor, to not distress the rest of the troopers anymore than necessary, this sadly had the exact same effect.)
    By now the last remaining troopers were all either vomiting in terror or being pushed back desperately into the line by Ftnnah’s escort. At the very end of the line, although not mad with terror, stood the Commander of Cirith Ungol, Grishnâk. He looked calm on the outside, but on the inside he was doing the brains version of chewing one’s fingernails. One by one the troopers were more or less dragged kicking, biting and screaming inside the Keep, with one unfortunate sod who decided to make a run for it, and ended up with several new decorative arrows in his back. When finally Grishnâk’s turn came, he sent a silent prayer to the Dark Lord (which coincidentally made him spill his can of baked beans all over his new shirt) and went inside Ftnnah’s temporary office.

    ´So… Err… How did we do, oh Dark One?`
    Ftnnah leaned back in his chair and gestured for the Commander to have a seat. The Commander took a quick look at the chair in front of the desk that looked mysteriously a lot like the Torture Rack and hesitantly declined, seeing how the chair was at this moment covered in excrement’s from his terrified troopers. Ftnnah nodded and leaned forward.
    ´Well, considering the general situation in most of our garrisons… You did quite well. There were some…` Ftnnah looked up at Nargak, who nodded back sternly, before he with a heavy sigh continued: ´… Irregularities with the sent/received ratio concerning the Dark Lords share in raided cargo. It… err… appears that we are currently running on a loss. Do you have any comments?`
    Ftnnah looked back at Grishnâk and tried to give him a stern look, which by default, is hard for someone who currently has no idea where his eyebrows or eyes were placed at the moment. Grishnâk shifted uncomfortably and coughed.

    ´Well, oh Dark One… T-that is most certainly not our fault. We send our cargo to Minas Morgul for further transpo-` Grishnâk stopped suddenly in terror, his brain trying to distance itself with the traitorous words it’s mouth had uttered. His mouth, now realizing it had accused the Witch King himself, the leader of the Nazgûls, of whom one was sitting in front of him, for dipping into the coffers.
    ´Oh really? Minas Morgul you say?` Ftnnah added hesitantly, not wanting to do the same mistake as Grishnâk had just done. The problem with telepathic communication is that you’re never really sure if the boss was listening. Or even worse, if his boss was listening.
    ´I… I… Uhm, nah… err… M-might just be… err… an accounting error, oh Dark One.`
    Ftnnah looked up. Grishnâk’s brain decided to abandon ship and leave the mouth to fend for itself.
    ´I… see. Hm, well that’s why we are having these reviews isn’t it?` Ftnnah added sternly. Grishnâk’s mouth, now realizing the full degree of the situation it had walked into, opened and closed in sheer, panicked confusion.
    ´Well… I think our business here is concluded. Thank you for your and your trooper’s coopera-… Well, thank you for letting us drag you all in here and review you. Have a bad day, commander.`

    Grishnâk turned around, and left the room as if the building was on fire. Ftnnah shook his head and stood up while muttering something under his breath. Nargak was quickly at his side as they left the room.
    ´Another report of cargos going into Minas Morgul, but not out… I don’t like this sir.`
    ´Me neither. Especially considering that Minas Morgul is our next destination.`
    Nargak stopped in pure shock and grabbed a hold of Ftnnah’s arm, which he immedietly regretted, considering all the hidden spikes in his master’s armor.
    ´Ugh… Uh… Are you sure about that sir? It’s just… We’ve never… There hasn’t….`
    Ftnnah calmly lifted Nargaks hand out of the spikes and shook his head again as they approached his horse and the wargs, gesturing his escort to mount aswell.

    ´I am aware. Auditing your boss is no task that should ever fall upon an employee.` Especially when you have a boss who can read your thoughts, he added in his head. ´But frankly, these reports are far too… consistent to be simple coincidences. I doubt we can simply Brush it Beneath The Rug this time.`
    Nargak mounted his warg silently, seriously considering if it was possible to switch careers within the immediate night.

    On the other side of the keep, Grishnâk tumbled into the Back Courtyard and took a few deep breaths, currently having the same ideas as Nargak. He looked out over his troops, whom nearly all had feinted the moment they came out of the Keep. A few of the more veteran ones, crack troopers whom without hesitation would take on bands of elfs and dwarves, herioc- well, villaniously cutting down foes to the left and right, were either standing at rear and staring at their breakfasts who lay spilled on the ground, or sitting in the corners crying for themselves. Grishnâk decided to join the former, before he passed out.


    Chapter 3: Even more unnerving news.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The Witch King of Angmar was brooding. He always were. Brooding was his natural state of being. He was a professional brooder, if there ever was such a thing. Right now he was brooding whether he should send for another flagon of Draught, or try to hold out until he could return to his quarters. More importantly, he was also brooding over a bunch of maps that lay spread across the table in front of him. The maps, which could be compared to a child’s drawing of a foggy landscape, were the top results of his orc scouts over the region of Ithilien. They all seemed to indicate large areas of where the enemy frequently appeared.

    The only problem was that in most cases, those areas covered the better part of the map. Some scouts had tried to give helping pointers and little notes about the enemy, such as: “N-emy is bushes covered in leaves, fyring arruws from ovve’ ther (Although no indication to where “ther” was).” Or “Sumething smelled funny in this area. Sumething was investiagated.” One scout didn’t even seem to have realized that the maps would be handed over afterwards, and in his map there was a depiction of an orc having something rammed up his bottom, accompanied by the words: “Rishûk iz the wurst commandah evah.” The Witch King made a mental note to look into that matter particularly. As for what he could glean from the maps, he didn’t have the foggiest. He brushed them aside with his fist while he made a few irritated mutterings. He decided that he would take another cup of Draught, just as the terrified messenger came into the room. And his day got just a little worse.

    Ftnnah didn’t like the gargoyles. In fact he secretly hated them. They were meant to be a demoralizing factor for any besieging enemy, but they mostly demoralized everyone around them, even the defenders. Ftnnah always got the feeling that somehow, those gargoyles always made rude gestures to his back when he wasn’t looking. That feeling only got more solid whenever he turned to look at one, and they looked stone solid, in a casual, innocent way. He hated that. He hated this place. Minas Morgul always seemed like it was the most well-oiled machine the Dark Lord’s Arsenal, but if you just stuck around long enough, you began to see all the rust and cobwebs. And he had been stuck here, for a very long time before. That was before he got his Department up and running, whereupon he quickly allocated the headquarters to Barad-dûr, which in comparison was considerably jollier. At least there, you always felt more at ease, probably because everyone knew that in the unlikely event that someone would assault Mordor, at least they would get some warning about it first. Ftnnah was shaken back into the present as the gates finally opened and his boss came storming out through them.

    ´Ftnnah! What is the meaning of this? ` The Witch King said in a very irritated voice.
    ´Master. ` Ftnnah bowed shortly towards his boss before he continued. ´I am here in an official matter, Oh Dark One. `
    The Witch King scoffed at this. ´Official? You can shove that “official” where the Eye can’t se- ` He was stopped by Ftnnah who raised his hand and produced a parchment from his robes. A parchment with a very distinct sigil upon it.
    ´I am here under orders of the Dark Lord, cursed be his name, himself to… review operations in all our garrisons… And he meant ALL, I assure you.`
    The Witch King hesitated before he stretched forward an ironclad fist. ´Show me that parchment!`
    Ftnnah handed the parchment over hurriedly to the Witch King who snapped it from his hands and began to read it. Ftnnah got the impression that his lips were moving when the Witch King read through it hurriedly. This impression rewarded him a flushed, angry look from the Witch King. Bloody telepathy Ftnnah added in the back of his mind. After a while the Witch King handed back the parchment and nodded back towards the gate.

    ´Very well Ftnnah. You may enter MY domain.`
    Ftnnah trotted his horse forward, followed by his escort with the eyes of the Witch King borrowing themselves into his back while he muttered beneath his breath. ´One might argue that it is in fact OUR domain.`

    The Witch King remained a while outside the gates, once again brooding. This time, he was brooding over the predicament he was in. He knew his papers weren't in order. In fact, they were the opposite. They were proof that he had secretly stuffed his own pockets quite handsomely for some time. He concentrated deeply to not think of his Master’s name, as it often would open the oh so troublesome two-way involuntary conversation with his own boss. The gate guards were by now very nervous. Standing orders were to keep the gates shut at all times, unless ordered else wise. Standing orders decreed that they should close the gate, but their commander was still out there. It might prove fatal to disobey orders. On the other hand, locking out the Boss when he had no keys could also prove fatal. They gave a generally shared sigh of relief when they saw the Witch King finally turning around and going back inside. The stress returned however, when a scout came racing down the path from inside the Keep towards the Witch King out on the road, who had again stopped to await the scout. After a brief conversation, the scout raced back inside, whilst the Witch King stood there on the road… It was lucky for the gate guards that they could not see through invisibility, because if they could, the smile on the Witch Kings lips would have made them mad with terror.


    Chapter 4: A Hero- Eh... A Villain Rides Out
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    ‘You want me to do WHAT!? That’s a suicide mission! I’m an accountant for Sauron’s sake, not a soldier! ` Ftnnah stared in disbelief at his boss who was pacing around Ftnnah’s chair, like a shark circling a weak fish. Although he couldn’t see it, he was sure his boss was smiling.

    ´Oh come on Ftnnah. You’re one of us! You can’t die.` The Witch King said in an all-knowing manner that was abruptly cut short by Ftnnah’s heated response.

    ´What, you mean the so called “prophecy” you went through to such lengths to reinforce that we cannot be killed by any man? That entire affair is bogus and you know it! A hobbit with a sharpened stick placed in the right spot could kill us as easily as any other!` Ftnnah slammed his fist into the table. ´If that thing held any truth whatsoever, we would have conquered the realms of Men long ago! The Dark Lord wouldn’t need his massive army, and frankly, our economy would be oh so much better! `

    ´Look… Look, it’s just a little recon mission alright? I have reliable-` The Witch King paused and grumbled for a bit before he continued. ´Alright, I have sources with a shred of relevancy that tells me that the bloody Rangers secret headquarters is somewhere in this region.` He pointed an ironclad finger at the map over Ithilien. ´Here. Somewhere in the north.` Ftnnah scoffed and moved closer to look at the map.

    ´North eh? You do realize that the only thing that signifies that it’s in the North is because it’s not part of the South, which is a bloody desert!` The Witch King shot an annoyed glance at Ftnnah before he continued.

    ´Well, it’s there. Somewhere. And I need you to find it. It’s an important mission. Vital to the cause. And such things cannot be entrusted to any other than one of the Nine… Well, in your case, Nine and a half.` Ftnnah leaned back and tried to spit at the floor, and only succeeded in putting a blob of phlegm on his own shoe.

    ´OH… So I AM one of the “Nine” now am I? I always got the expression that you denies this fact fervently every darklordtime we have a meeting! Decides, I am here on a mission of my own. Why won’t your clerk give me access to your papers?` The Witch King fiddled with his robe nervously before he mumbled something about wargs getting into the archives. He then straightened out into his full length, which would have been impressive if you didn’t know that his armor and crown basically made him nearly a third taller than he really was.

    ´You will do this. I AM YOUR MASTER!` Ftnnah felt a pang of pain as his boss did the version of an telepathic poke in his eye with a stick. Ftnnah got to his feet angrily and went to the door.

    ´FINE! But when I come back… You better have those papers in order for me to review.` Then he slammed the door shut, causing a fracture in the wall beside it. The Witch King stood and stared at the crack before he began to laugh mischievously and sat down behind his desk. ´I don’t think that will be necessary.` He said to no one in particular, before he rang the bell at his desk to call in his lunch.

    Nargak immediately knew something was wrong the moment his master came out the door. The way he walked, you might think that it was an actual member of the Nine that came towards you, if you overlooked the fact that instead of a morgul blade at his side, he kept a pencil and notebook. Nargak stood to attention and began to form a sentence as to what was going on when Ftnnah raised his hand and interrupted him. ´We’re moving out. Get the escort mounted. And get me a blade.` Nargak swallowed nervously and stared in disbelief at his master. ´A-a… A blade sire? B-but, you told me you despise the thin-` Ftnnah shot a glance at him before he went to the stables to fetch his horse. Nargak shook his head sadly and went to the armory.

    Right after sundown, Ftnnah and his escort rode out, now clad in steel and blades, and set a course for Ithilien. His departure was watched by the Witch King, whom was said to have gone about his business particularly happy that night. Ftnnah rode in determined silence for a long time, ignoring the questions of Nargak, before he finally spoke up. ´This is a fool’s errant. If any of you should have an accident and… break a foot and return to Minas Morgul for some rest, you’re welcome to it. I won’t have your unwanted deaths on my conscious.` His escort looked at each other briefly before the entire lot of them fell of their wargs squealing painfully in such a manner that even a goblin would have been proud. Ftnnah sighed and continued on. Nargak looked back at the escort with longing before he sighed heavily and rode up next to Ftnnah in silence. Ftnnah glanced at him shortly and coughed uncomfortably. ´Go back Nargak. This business is not for you. ` Nargak nodded shortly before he responded. ´Neither is it for you Master. Together, we might have a chance. ` Ftnnah smiled briefly and nodded to him. ´Let’s find this secret hideout then shall we?`

    Feel free to comment and give criticism! It's all for the greater good... or bad, depending from which perspective you look at it!
    Last edited by Captain Zoran; February 21, 2013 at 12:45 PM.
    The friendly neighbourhood hobo with a shotgun of Westeros: Total War, bringing the Game of Thrones to life!
    Check out my new LOTR fan(tastic) fiction here: The Accountant's Trial

  2. #2
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    A tenth Nazgul? Who's occupation means he could do so many awful mistakes that would make Roy in my story seem somewhat awesome! I love the idea, and I want to see this story continue!

    +rep

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    Captain Zoran's Avatar Ducenarius
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Quote Originally Posted by Lortano View Post
    A tenth Nazgul? Who's occupation means he could do so many awful mistakes that would make Roy in my story seem somewhat awesome! I love the idea, and I want to see this story continue!

    +rep
    Thank you good sir! I greatly enjoyed your own work, and must admit that Ftnnah shares some uncanny similarities to Roy! Oh how, do I wonder?

    Second part up in the OP
    The friendly neighbourhood hobo with a shotgun of Westeros: Total War, bringing the Game of Thrones to life!
    Check out my new LOTR fan(tastic) fiction here: The Accountant's Trial

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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Quote Originally Posted by Captain Zoran View Post
    Thank you good sir! I greatly enjoyed your own work, and must admit that Ftnnah shares some uncanny similarities to Roy! Oh how, do I wonder?

    Second part up in the OP
    Considering that Roy had a wekaness for bedsheets and soiling robes, I guarentee that this nazgul will have a definite weakness, a possible embarassing weakness! And he's mocking the ents, which Saruman found to his cost, to be wrong.

    Love how the orc reacted in the office, that's how I react when having to deal with my bank!
    Last edited by Lortano; January 10, 2013 at 11:34 AM.

  5. #5
    Captain Zoran's Avatar Ducenarius
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Thir part up in the OP! Took a while this one, mainly because I've been busy getting hammered this weekend, but also because Ive been fiddeling with the general storyline. I think it will turn out quite well. For now, settle with this little bit!
    The friendly neighbourhood hobo with a shotgun of Westeros: Total War, bringing the Game of Thrones to life!
    Check out my new LOTR fan(tastic) fiction here: The Accountant's Trial

  6. #6
    Captain Zoran's Avatar Ducenarius
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Fourth part, and the third chapter is now up in the OP! A great delay I know, I know, but hell, who's reading this anyways?
    The friendly neighbourhood hobo with a shotgun of Westeros: Total War, bringing the Game of Thrones to life!
    Check out my new LOTR fan(tastic) fiction here: The Accountant's Trial

  7. #7
    Senator
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    I'm reading it!

    As a wise man once said, it is better to be loved by one than noted by a million.

    +rep, for the Witch King's paperwork!

  8. #8
    Flinn's Avatar His Dudeness of TWC
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    I finally read your job, a nice one indeed

    + rep

    F
    Under the patronage of Finlander, patron of Lugotorix & Lifthrasir & joerock22 & Socrates1984 & Kilo11 & Vladyvid & Dick Cheney & phazer & Jake Armitage & webba 84 of the Imperial House of Hader

  9. #9
    Captain Zoran's Avatar Ducenarius
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Quote Originally Posted by Flinn View Post
    I finally read your job, a nice one indeed

    + rep

    F
    Another reader? What is this, a conspiracy?

    But thanks for the encouragment!

    Chapter 4 is up in the OP!
    The friendly neighbourhood hobo with a shotgun of Westeros: Total War, bringing the Game of Thrones to life!
    Check out my new LOTR fan(tastic) fiction here: The Accountant's Trial

  10. #10
    Flinn's Avatar His Dudeness of TWC
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    who knows?

    anyway, I love such a kind of humouros and comic works, I've had enough of dark and desperate stories of doomed heroes ..

    I wrote many things (in Italian) during the last years, as I'm a RPG player since I was 12, and I always tend to give "normality" to my characters through hilariuos situations (I love lumbering relatives )

    read the 4th chapter, keep on
    Under the patronage of Finlander, patron of Lugotorix & Lifthrasir & joerock22 & Socrates1984 & Kilo11 & Vladyvid & Dick Cheney & phazer & Jake Armitage & webba 84 of the Imperial House of Hader

  11. #11
    Darkan's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Bumping this as it might get an update!
    [DLV 6.2 AAR] - The Danish House of Hen - updated 20/08/18 - on hold
    [King of Dragon Pass AAR] - The Drakkar Saga - updated 14/04/18 - on hold
    Participate in the TotW!!! PARTICIPATE!!!
    DuckDuckGo

  12. #12
    Dude with the Food's Avatar Campidoctor
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Equally it might not.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    I am me. You are not me. You are you. If I was you, I wouldn't be me.
    If you were me, I'd be sad.But I wouldn't then be me because you'd be me so you wouldn't be me because I wasn't me because you were me but you couldn't be because I'd be a different me. I'd rather be any kind of bird (apart from a goose) than be you because to be you I'd have to not be me which I couldn't do unless someone else was me but then they would be you aswell so there would still be no me. They would be you because I was you so to restore balance you would have to be me and them meaning all three of us would become one continously the same. That would be very bad.


  13. #13
    Darkan's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: The Accountant's Trial (Fan Fiction)

    Cpt. Z said he wrote more, just needs to find it.
    [DLV 6.2 AAR] - The Danish House of Hen - updated 20/08/18 - on hold
    [King of Dragon Pass AAR] - The Drakkar Saga - updated 14/04/18 - on hold
    Participate in the TotW!!! PARTICIPATE!!!
    DuckDuckGo

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