The Last Ringbearer: Chapter Fifty-Two, Chapter Fifty-Three and Chapter Fifty-Four

[masterghandalf]

This is a crosspost from Das_Sporking2. Previous installments of this spork may be found here.

Warning: This chapter includes several deaths, including suicides.



MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Kirill Yeskov’s The Last Ringbearer! Last time, some Umbaran spies offered commentary as Tangorn finally made his way back to Umbar in time for his meeting. Today, we bring Part III: The Umbarian Gambit to a close as Tangorn actually has his meeting and we finally find out what all of this spy nonsense has been building up to, and if the digression has been worth it. Joining us once again will be Havaktri!

Chapter Fifty-Two

Havaktri: Oh, three chapters today? How exciting! Or perhaps the word I’m looking for is “portentous” instead, as in, I doubt I would be asked to do this if it wasn’t significant and likely ominous… especially as this is the end of the Part! Il-Yannah preserve us all against whatever horrors might lie ahead! And so, we open at The Green Mackerel Restaurant where the meal is over and Algali has left Tangorn and Elandar to discuss matters alone. Tangorn asks Elandar about his cousin’s broken engagement, which seems to have been last mentioned in Eloar’s letter… oh, my, quite a while ago, wasn’t it? “Nothing much; I suppose Linóel is already seeing someone else. By the way, if you hope to impress me with your knowledge of Lórien’s high society gossip, then the effect is rather the reverse: this bit of news is really stale.” But Tangorn is pleased, since Elandar has volunteered information about his family, and he wonders if the elves are really as perceptive as they make out (has it occurred to you that he might be the one laying a trap for you and wants you to underestimate him? Or maybe he’s heard so much about the topic over the last months he’s just sick of it…). Aloud he said: “I just wanted to ensure that you are, indeed, Elandar: you mentioned the name Linóel, and that’s what I was looking for. Very primitive, of course, but …” He smiled a slightly bashful smile. “Actually, could you please remove your half-mask?” A curious restaurant this must be, where a patron could come in wearing such a thing and seemingly not be at all suspicious! Perhaps a stylish half-mask is going to be the new craze in fashion this season? *she sighs* Personally, I always wear robes, which are never out of style, and yet somehow I still get strange looks… But indeed, Elandar removes his mask. Yes, his interlocutor was undoubtedly an Elf: he had vertical rather than round pupils, like those of a cat or a snake. One could also ask for a look at the tips of his ears, hidden under the hairdo, but there was no real need. He’s made it to his goal. *taken aback* Oh. Well. Pointed ears I expected, but… none of the elves I know have slitted pupils; perhaps that is different in this world? Or do I need to ask Rinnean or Soungral Yhani if they wear contacts?

MG: No, you don’t. And I’d like to say, in Tolkien’s Middle-earth, elves mostly seem to just look like very beautiful humans (and, per Tolkien’s letters, are probably physically more-or-less the same species as Men; it’s the nature of their souls and how they relate to Arda that’s where the real difference lies). There are a few differences – elves apparently have ears that are “leaf-shaped,” which most of the fandom seems to take to mean slightly pointed (as opposed to the ridiculously huge ears you see on some modern depictions of elves, ie Warcraft) and their men almost never have facial hair, except in extreme old age, with occasional exceptions. Otherwise… well, we do have canonical examples of some Men who could be mistaken for elves under certain circumstances, such as Turin in the Sil and Children of Hurin (it’s explicitly noted that, after achieving high rank in the elven kingdom of Nargothrond and adopting their dress and mannerisms, that even other elves might take him on first meting him for a lord from one of the great houses of the Noldor) so it’s nothing that extreme. But of course, Yeskov has to make his elves obviously and visibly inhuman and, well, that just seems to point to me to part of the inherent hypocrisy of this work. Orcs get presented as inhuman monsters? Clearly that’s just racist propaganda and slander. Elves getting presented as inhuman monsters is just completely normal and unremarkable. It’s like Yeskov is saying that literally demonizing and dehumanizing your enemies is only bad if you do it to the people he likes.

Also, for a brief refresher on who all the elves involved here are – Eloar is the eeevil elf prince Tangorn, Haladdin and Tzerlag killed back in Part I and whose mail they got a hold of; Elandar is Eloar’s brother, who’s the head of the elves’ operations in Umbar and who Tangorn has spent most of this Part, in a roundabout way, trying to get in to see; Eornis is their mother, who is a clofoel in Lorien, a made-up term which we’re told means something like handmaiden, but actually seems to be closer to a cabinet secretary.

The Dung Ages: 78 (of course the elves’ espionage methods are so crude Elandar falls for Tangorn’s obvious trap)

Elven Brutality: 158

Mixed-up Mythos: 146

Spies Like Us: 234

Take That, Tolkien!: 45

Havaktri: …I see. I think. And so, Tangorn begins… narrating to himself. Through the mossy forests and churning rivers, through treacherous bogs and snowy peaks did the noble knight struggle, until the magic ball led him to the Uggun Gorge, with burned slag for ground, bile flowing in the streams, and not a blade of living grass. There did the dragon abide in his lair under granite boulders … I take it this is a metaphor for Tangorn’s own plans, but… can we be reading that story instead? It seems to have a dragon in it, and I think this story could use more dragons. Dragons are far more impressive than anything Yeskov has presented to us so far… and better spies as well! It never pays to underestimate dragons… Actually, as long as we’re in the ancient ballad mode, let’s be frank: rather than the noble knight, you’re his tricky armor bearer whose only task is to steal up to the entrance to the lair, throw some bait inside and beat it immediately. It will be up to Haladdin to battle the great worm once he emerges, but the doctor will only have a chance if the monster gobbles the poison bait first: the well-sealed package you had retrieved two hours ago from the Seamen Bank vault where it had spent all this time together with the mithril coat and some other stuff. Sure, this is hardly knightly behavior, but our task is to rid the world of the dragon, rather than get to star in children’s books. I think this metaphor has rather got away from Tangorn – or maybe he has gotten away from it? I seem to remember that there is a certain book, often marketed towards children, where the dragonslayer is a tertiary character and the main protagonist is the clever burglar who outwits the dragon, finds out his weakness and escapes to tell the tale… a story set in this world, in fact… the name is almost on the tip of my tongue… Elandar asks if Tangorn is satisfied of his identity; Tangorn hasn’t met Elandar personally (before today, I presume) but his guest’s appearance does match what he’s heard of him. “Should you not be who you say you are, now is the best time to drop out, believe me. The thing is that the information I’m about to entrust to you may cost some of Lórien’s higher-ups their heads, so they will most likely hunt its keeper as vigorously as Aragorn’s men are hunting me. Clofoel Eornis’ son will be able to handle it appropriately while, importantly, staying alive, unlike any lower-placed Elf. It’s a well- known axiom that dangerous information is destroyed together with its carriers; I’m sure you understand what it means to learn something unsuitable to one’s position, even accidentally …” With those words Tangorn glanced meaningfully towards the exit Algali had used. I’m not used to dinner meetings containing veiled threats of death if one party isn’t who they say they are… perhaps things are different in Middle-earth?

Elandar admits that he is, in fact, Elandar (but wouldn’t he also say that if he wasn’t Elandar but wanted Tangorn to think he was? Or if he was Elandar, but wanted Tangorn to think he was someone else pretending to be Elandar… oh, dear, all of this discussion of people pretending to be other people is making my head hurt, I wonder how the Captain manages it…) and that Tangorn has proven his knowledge of Lorien’s internal workings by getting Eornis’s title correct (her title that, if I recall, Yeskov made up and which doesn’t actually mean anything?). He does think that Tangorn has overestimated his own rank, but Tangorn corrects him that they’re both just intermediaries. The information, as you’ve probably guessed, is meant for your mother. Moreover, I have reasons to believe that clofoel Eornis is not the ultimate addressee, either.” Ah, I see… wheels within wheels within wheels! Alas, no matter how many wheels you put inside other wheels, it doesn’t actually go any faster… perhaps that’s a metaphor for this book? But while I don’t understand what’s going on here, Elandar apparently does. “So Faramir did manage to obtain proof that certain parties in Lórien have indeed befriended Aragorn and are about to use the Reunited Kingdom as a trump in their game against the Lady … Is the Prince of Ithilien hoping that she will return the throne of Minas Tirith to him as a reward?” The details of these intrigues quite escape me, but Tangorn again says he’s just an intermediary and asks if anything in this seems unlikely to Elandar (would… that not immediately be a suspicious line of questioning? Why are you asking the person you’re trying to fool their opinion on your own cover story?). Elandar admits that the whole thing is very plausible, but he feels no reason to trust Tangorn regarding it. He knows Tangorn’s in the middle of being hunted by the Secret Guard and the Umbarans, and he thinks the business with him freeing Algali is suspicious (indeed it is… perhaps Elandar is a wise elf, after all?). However, Marandil was just arrested and testified that he did indeed order Algali’s kidnapping (how convenient…) and even Tangorn is surprised at this, though he tries to cover it. “We’re spinning wheels, dear sir,” he said abruptly, feeling that it was time to mount an attack. “In any event you won’t be the one to make decisions in this matter – not your level, if you’ll pardon the expression. All I need to know is whether you have the means to deliver my message to milady Eornis and keep anyone else in Lórien from finding out? If not, I have to seek other channels, and this conversation is pointless.” I… suppose that qualifies as an attack? Unless Elandar is so offended he even leave or, il-Yannah forbid, attacks you… in which case you’re worse off than before, no?

Elven Brutality: 160

Spies Like Us: 237

Havaktri: Elandar starts stroking Tangorn’s package thoughtfully, and, oh dear, if I can spot the inuendo, it must be truly obvious, no? Is this about to turn into, ahem, a certain other kind of story I’m not sure I want to be reading? Tangorn held his breath: the dragon approached the bait and sniffed it warily. Actually he had nothing to fear – physically, the package was clean and trick-free. I will not think that Tangorn is trying to literally seduce Elandar to his side… I will not think that Tangorn is trying to literally seduce Elandar to his side… Though it might be an actually interesting twist… He smirked: “I hope you can detect the absence of poisons or stored magic without opening the parcel?” “I’ll manage somehow …” Elandar hefted the package. “But this weighs almost half a pound, and I clearly detect metal inside … quite a bit of metal. What else is there beside the message?” …metal? I think perhaps the world may not be ready to learn what’s in Tangorn’s package… il-Yannah help me, now I’m doing it too! “The message is wrapped in several layers of thick silver foil, so that it can’t be magically read from outside.” The Elf nodded almost imperceptibly. “The outer wrap is sackcloth; the knots of the cords tying it are sealed with wax and have metal rings woven into them right where the seals are. It is impossible to secretly open such packaging: one can neither boil the sealing wax away, since it’s too deeply infused into the sackcloth, nor carefully slice the seals away with a thin hot blade – the rings are in the way. This is how they seal government mail in Khand, and I know of no method that’s more secure. Another precaution is that the knots that bind the rings are unlikely to be known to any Elves. Please observe.” And here I’d always heard elves were cunning folk with ropes… and just what exactly is silver foil meant to accomplish? What magic in this world would it be blocking?

But apparently, Elandar has much to learn. With those words Tangorn quickly tied a piece of string around the handle of a fruit knife and handed it to Elandar. The Elf tried to figure out the elaborate pattern, then gave up with obvious displeasure: “One of the local marine knots?” “Not at all. It’s just that the Elves are very conservative and use only one way of tying string to a bow, whereas there are at least three such knots, of which this is one.” While I know elves are slow to embrace change, that they haven’t learned this seems… unlikely. For some reason, I suspect authorial bias is once again at play… Testily, Elandar stuffed the package inside his jacket and examined the knot again. Sure, it’s annoying for a member of the higher race to fail at such a trifle. Tangorn froze, afraid to believe his eyes. The dragon swallowed the bait … he did … gulped it, munched, gobbled, wolfed it down! In light of earlier phrasing, that’s an… interesting choice of words, no? Suddenly, as if sensing the happy jumble of thought and emotion in his mind, the Elf raised his gaze and stared the baron in the eye. With horror Tangorn felt an irresistible force pull him inside the slits of Elandar’s bottomless pupils, felt cold fingers picking through his soul with habitual disgust … Even a small child knows you can’t look a dragon in the eye! …and apparently Elandar is a psion. I admit, I was not expecting that! Also… Tangorn is aware he’s not literally a dragon, isn’t he? Unless he is… that might explain the slitted pupils… He pulled away with all the power of his despair; so does a fox spring out of the steel trap, leaving behind scraps of hide, bits of flesh with shards of broken bones, and ragged sinews. I know nothing – I’m a messenger, nothing more! The pain was terrible, almost physical, and then it was suddenly over – he managed to free himself … or did the Elf just let him go? Then he heard Elandar’s voice, coming in waves as if in a dream: Now that was quite sinister! But I have to wonder just what parts of himself he left behind in Elandar’s mind – that could end the game entirely right there!

The Dung Ages: 79 (of course, elves are bad with knots)

Elven Brutality: 162

Spies Like Us: 240

MG: And I must say… dragons in Middle-earth do have the power to enthrall people, and at least in the case of Glaurung, said power worked on those who made eye-contact with him, so… Yeskov got something right at least? And some elves (and a few Dunedain – Denethor can do it, and seemingly so can Faramir to a lesser extent) do have mental abilities, including mind-to-mind communication and a limited ability at what we might call “mind-reading,” though it seems somewhat unlikely that a mid-level nobody like Elandar would be that good at it.

Havaktri: *muttering* I would quite like Yeskov to leave my people’s arts alone all the same, thank you very much. *in a normal voice* Now, where were we? “That you hate us is immaterial: politics bring even stranger bedmates together. But you’re hiding something dangerous and important about this package, and that is really bad. What if all that’s inside is some local state secret like the Umbarian fire recipe or one of the Admiralty’s maps, and the DSD is waiting at the door to send me off to the galleys for thirty years or so, or perhaps straight to the Ar-Horan gallows, it being wartime and all? Wouldn’t it be nice to have me arrested for espionage, eh?” Well, that would be clever of Tangorn… but if you follow his instructions and send the package off without opening it yourself, that wouldn’t happen, would it? “That’s not so …” Tangorn objected feebly, unable to push his eyelids apart; his tongue was leaden, and he felt like either vomiting or just dying. Is this what a woman feels after rape? *shocked* Oh… ah… that is quite an uncomfortable metaphor, is it not? And while I, thankfully, don’t have firsthand experience… is Tangorn aware that women aren’t the only ones who can be raped? Or does he think men react differently… But Elandar still thinks there’s something off about all of this, and so But the dragon didn’t even consider swallowing the bait; all he did was sniff it lazily and drag it back to his lair, just in case, there to lie forever amidst shards of broken armor of the knights who had dared challenge the monster, kings’ crowns, golden chalices from destroyed cities, and skeletons of fair maidens … Tortured metaphors aside, Tangorn is left convinced that he’s failed, and thinks that maybe fate is not in favor of his and Haladdin’s mission; As Eru’s his witness, he did everything humanly possible, but at the last moment Fortune turned away from him …

MG: You know, Tangorn, I wouldn’t be invoking Eru’s name so casually like that, unless you want to be bound hopelessly to this task for all eternity. You’re Gondorian, and thus heavily culturally influenced by the elves and their legends – you should be familiar with the story of the Oath of Feanor and all…

Havaktri: I’m not Gondorian – perhaps we could discuss that story later? Well away from this? Algali returns to the room, which is apparently a signal that the meeting is almost over, and Elandar is apparently a perfect gentleman again as he prepares to leave, politely asks Tangorn not to follow him, and tells him Algali will keep him company. He raises a toast – with real Elvish wine, nothing like the swill they sell at Elfstone, believe me – puts his mask back on, and leaves Tangorn, as promised, alone with Algali. Dearest Elandar is making sure I’m not following him, the baron thought lazily. I wonder if mister junior secretary knows that I can get out of this restaurant any minute through the privy window? He could, although that’s unlikely … The thing is – I don’t need it any more. Yes, but if you do that, then Algali will tell his superiors and my, that wouldn’t be very secret, would it? What a vile trick did I play on you, lad, he thought suddenly when he met the childishly open gaze of the ‘carrier of unsuitable information.’ Maybe that’s why the Higher Powers have turned away from me? Now it turns out that I’ve immersed in that indelible muck – with you and the guy at 4 Lamp Street – for no good reason. I played a trick on you, they played one on me; as usual, the gods have the last laugh. Well, Tangorn, I’m glad you realize how awful your actions in that affair were, at least? Though that’s not the same thing as actual contrition – especially as you seem more concerned that it was pointless than anything… Tangorn then tells Algali that his ‘friends’ have sentenced him to death and recommends an escape through the privy window (it seems to be getting a lot of traffic, lately…). Algali insists that even if he believed Tangorn, he wouldn’t do it. “Because you are an Enemy. You fight on the side of Darkness, so your every word is a lie, and your every deed is evil by definition.” As opposed to how Tangorn views our good friend Elandar, who fights for the elves and whose every deed is therefore evil by definition… “You’re mistaken, lad,” Tangorn sighed wearily. “I’m on neither the Dark nor the Light side. If you need a label, I’m on the side of many colors.” Hmmm, I seem to recall someone else in Middle-earth who called himself the many-colored… I think his story ended with all his plans failed catastrophically, and then being stabbed in the dirt by a minion who turned on him after one too many abuses? That aside, I fail to see how Tangorn and Haladdin’s little conspiracy can be considered “multi-colored” – after all, Tangorn, Haladdin, Tzerlag and Faramir are, if I’m not mistaken, too Mordorians and two Mordor-philes. Not a very diverse group, no?

But Algali refuses to hear it. “There is no such side, Baron,” Algali bit out, and his eyes flashed. “The Battle of Battles is coming, Dagor Dagorath, and everybody – yes, everybody! – will have to make a choice between Light and Dark. Whoever is not with us is against us!” Well, that conversation took a turn for the… apocalyptic. “That’s a lie – such a side exists, very much so.” Tangorn was no longer smiling. “If I’m fighting for anything, it’s for this precious Dagor Dagorath of yours to never happen. I’m fighting for the right of those of many colors to remain such without getting dragged into this total mobilization of yours. And speaking of Light and Dark – I suppose your master represents the Light?” Ah, my people follow the Path of Light, but we don’t want to be associated with either Tangorn or Elandar, so… kindly leave us out of this? Perhaps I now know how Treebeard feels… when it comes to The Last Ringbearer, I am on nobody’s side, because nobody’s on my side? Though I do have to wonder… Tangorn’s “side of many colors” seems to involve mass industrialization and destruction of nature. Is there any place for someone like Treebeard on his side, among his supposed many colors? I thought not.

MG: Okay, a few points here. I can’t help but feel like Yeskov is trying to attack the worldview of the original LotR, but I think he’s actually attacking a strawman, and here’s why. Frist off… Dagor Dagorath. This sort of apocalypticism really isn’t a part of Middle-earth. Yes, the Dagor Dagorath is something that exists in canon – but it’s always depicted as something that is far, far in the future, not immanent, and it’s not really something that people are concerned about or that serves as a motivator for anyone’s actions. For that matter, there’s some evidence that Tolkien may have been moving away from the concept entirely in his later writings (along with some other concepts, including Arda’s version of the fall of humanity and a prophecy regarding a future incarnation of Eru Iluvatar in the world, that he felt were too close to real-world Christianity) though I know some Tolkien scholars dispute that. And while Tolkien certainly uses light and dark imagery, that sort of strict metaphysical dichotomy wasn’t really part of his works either. The Free Peoples weren’t fighting for some abstract “Light” against an equally abstract “Dark” – they were fighting to keep Sauron, a very real and immanent enemy, from enslaving them all. That’s a very different thing; LotR isn’t the Belgariad or Wheel of Time. And yes, I can’t help but notice the use of the term “many-colored” for Tangorn’s side, which feels like it almost has to be a reference to Saruman’s self-granted promotion to “Saruman of Many Colors” from the book – while ignoring the deliberately muddled symbolism of said many colors, and that when scrutinized it was obvious the title didn’t actually mean anything and was just a sign of Saruman’s hubris. And if Yeskov means to indicate that Tangorn’s side is the more diverse one, well… all of TLR’s “heroes” believe (and talk) the exact same way, and even in TLR Mordor was still a hegemonic empire that Sharya-Rana seems to have expected would have gained cultural dominance over all of Middle-earth in the next few centuries if the wizards and elves hadn’t stepped in, so… I don’t think that fits, either.

For that matter… this is where I have to make an interesting observation. The Dagor Dagorath is mentioned nowhere in LotR. It’s not mentioned by name in the Sil (only alluded to a few times as “the Last Battle and the Day of Doom” and the like). It takes a pretty deep dive into the Unfinished Tales and History of Middle-earth to get that information in any detail, especially if you’re writing, as Yeskov was, in the nineties before the proliferation of things like fan wikis and YouTube lore videos. So, Yeskov must have either delved pretty damned deep into Middle-earth lore himself, or had someone on hand who had, to have included this reference at all – and yet he still gets much more basic facts about Arda wrong (not “changed for the sake of the story,” just flat-out wrong; we’ll see more of what I mean when we get to the second appendix). And I think that’s a really interesting dichotomy, though far be it from me to speculate on what it means.

Age of Anachronisms: 149 (for Elandar’s rather colloquial speech)

The Dung Ages: 81

Elven Brutality: 165

Mixed-up Mythos: 148

Not So Magnificent: 42

Spies Like Us: 243

Take That, Tolkien!: 49

Havaktri: Fascinating. And so, Algali insists that Elandar is his teacher, not his master, and Tangorn pulls out a white crystal on a chain, which he says is an Elvish poison detector – ever seen one?” I… can’t say as I have? When immersed into their goblets, the stone gave off an ominous purple light both times. Tangorn claims that the color indicates that the poison will work in under half an hour, and wonders if poisoning one’s students is a tradition for the forces of Light. Tangorn never expected what happened next: Algali snatched the nearest goblet, raised it to his lips and drained it before the baron could grab his arm. “You’re lying!” The youth’s face became pale and inspired, filled with otherworldly exultation. “And if not, then so what: it means that this is necessary to our Cause.” *weakly* Well, that was… remarkable. And disturbing; I must wonder just what Elandar has been teaching his students? Even the thralls of the Inspired aren’t usually quite this willing to die for their cause – though the Inspired are also smart enough to understand, usually, that killing one’s loyal followers will eventually mean one has no followers left… “Thank you, lad,” the baron said after a minute’s stupor, shaking his head. “You don’t even know how much you just helped me …” And so, Baron Tangorn demonstrates the honor and compassion for which he is known… is it too much to ask to be able to like any of these people? And so Tangorn leaves the restaurant, but paused at the door for one last look at the doomed fanatic. Scary to even think of what will happen to Middle Earth, should these boys prevail. Maybe I didn’t play my part too well, but at least I played for the right team. Interesting conclusion. Let’s see… Tangorn is working for a mission he believes is necessary for the “right” side to win an imminent apocalyptic showdown for the fate of Middle-earth. He and Haladdin were given this task by a mysterious supernatural benefactor with his own agenda. Tangorn knows his task will require him to do dishonorable things but believes them necessary for the greater good. He also believes, per earlier chapters, that his task will result in his death… but is committed to it anyway, in the name of the cause. *beat* I think he and poor, doomed Algali may have more in common than he’s willing to admit… if only Yeskov was that clever…


We cut to Yakudze as he wonders about Tangorn’s next moves. Neither Tangorn’s contact with the Elvish underground nor the identity of his interlocutor concerned the Vice- Director of DSD at the moment. He knew that the fates of both the Republic and himself hinged on one thing only: Tangorn’s next destination. Will he go right or left, to the port or to New Town? He knew that but could do nothing about it, so all he did was pray to all the gods he knew: to the One, to the Sun-faced, to the Unnamed, even to Eru-Ilúvatar of the northern barbarians and to Udugvu the Great Serpent. What else could he do? I suppose trying to influence the outcome he desires is beyond the skills of our master spy? So when he finally heard: “The target has left the restaurant heading to New Town,” his first thought was: which one of them had listened to my prayers? Or perhaps God is, indeed, one, and it’s just that He has different cover stories and code names for different countries? Alternately, have you considered that the true divine is too vast to be contained by any name or names we poor, ephemeral mortals might put to it, and thus each is only a small sliver of a larger truth? But I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that in Yeskov’s conception, even the true Divine is a spy… His agents report that the streets are empty and following Tangorn will be difficult (presumably because he’ll notice them? Because it seems like he himself should quite stand out!). Yakudze himself thinks that following him won’t be necessary; the Vice- Director knew with certainty now that Fortune was on his side, and the anticipation of victory – sweeter even than victory itself – filled him to bursting. “Pull back all surveillance and tell the capture team to switch to Plan B.” Ah, but the anticipation of victory is merely anticipation, while actual victory is, well, victory… one is real, the other isn’t. But which is which? Regardless, the chapter ends there.

MG: Before we move on… a word on some of those gods Yakudze invokes. “The Sun-Faced” and “Udugyu the Great Serpent” seem to be Yeskov’s own invention. “Eru Iluvatar” (that’s two words, no dash) and “the One” are, canonically, two names for the same entity. “The Unnamed” – is a Gondorian term for Sauron, one of several euphemisms they use to avoid having to speak his name directly so close to Mordor, though that’s presumably not the case in TLR. So, an… eclectic and inconsistent assortment of deities, to be sure, and I wonder if I’m the only one who’d like to know more about some of them. I also have to question the description of Eru as belonging to “the northern barbarians.” I’ve mentioned this before, but most people don’t seem to worship Eru direcrtly. Instead, they offer prayers to various Valar and Maiar; Eru’s ultimate divinity is acknowledged, but not usually invoked directly. If by “northern barbarians” Yakudze means the Rohirrim and related peoples, they mostly seem to worship Orome, who they call Bema, in his aspect as the master of horses, along with reverence for their ancestors and great heroes of the past. If he means the Gondorians… the only religious references we get from the Gondorians in canon are to the Valar collectively. The Gondorians are, of course, descended from the Numenoreans (at least in canon) and while the Numenorean kings performed rituals to Eru at the hallow of Mount Menteltarma at certain times of the year, most Numenoreans (before they turned to worship Morgoth) seem to have made do with, again, various Valar and Maiar (Uinen apparently was a particular favorite of their mariners). So, I think it would make more sense for Yakudze to have been invoking the Valar here, rather than Eru – and again, invoking Eru isn’t something you usually do lightly, either. Ask the Feanorians! Also, that “elvish poison detector” doesn’t feel very Middle-earthian to me. Most “ordinary” magic objects – elven, and in some cases dwarven or Numenorean, weapons and garments, even consumables like lembas or miruvor – generally do whatever the mundane version of said object would do, they just do it better. Artifacts with more spectacular powers exist, obviously (palantiri, Rings of Power, etc.) but they’re rare and valuable, probably not something a random guy like Tangorn would just happen to have on hand in a restaurant. It feels more like something you’d see in, say, DND, where low-level magic items used for fairly mundane purposes are more common. Anyway, that’s it for this chapter – onwards!

Elven Brutality: 167

Mixed up Mythos: 150

Not So Magnificent: 44

Spies Like Us: 246 (even God’s a spy now!)

Take That, Tolkien!: 50

Chapter Fifty-Three

Havaktri: And so, we open later that evening as Tangorn wanders the deserted streets of an aristocratic neighborhood, reflecting that anyone who tries to follow him without being seen right now would have a very hard time of it. But in reality, who would want him now that the idiot Marandil has been arrested? Most importantly, does he want himself? Does Alviss? I’m not sure what Alviss wanting him has to do with anything that’s happening – perhaps Tangorn will enlighten us shortly? What he does need now is a quiet hideout where he can sit and meditate on the following: did he fail to win at the Green Mackerel, or did he not want to win? At the last moment, was he afraid of a victory, remembering his unspoken deal with the Higher Powers: the end of the mission would be the end of his earthly life? Not that he was afraid then, no – it’s just that at the cusp of his duel with Elandar he couldn’t grit his teeth and do it even against his will. It was not strength or skill he was short of then, not even luck – no, just plain persistence and courage… All of which would be much more interesting if Yeskov had given us some idea of what Tangorn could have done to win that he didn’t do – unless he means us to think that Tangorn’s lack of motivation was so strong it literally warped reality around himself to make him lose? How disconcerting! Thinking these thoughts, he had reached the jewelry shop of the honorable Chakti- Vari (a bronze snake on its door informed potential thieves that the place was being guarded by king cobras, as was the Vendotenian custom; any doubters were welcome to check), crossed the street, checked for surveillance again and opened the little door in the eight-foot limestone wall with his own key. Curious; I’ve heard of various animals being used as guardians, but never of watch-snakes? I always thought canines of various sorts were the guards of choice, but maybe I was wrong…

MG: Having done some quick research, I can’t find any historical basis for this practice either, though I could be wrong. King Cobras are intelligent and can be trained, but being both venomous and very large, they’re not really the sort of snake you want to have around your home – they’re also apparently not particularly aggressive compared to other cobras, unless cornered or protecting their own eggs, and their diet mostly consists of other snakes, so they don’t seem temperamentally particularly suited for guardian animals either. I can only conclude the warning is for symbolic and/or psychological effect.

Spies Like Us: 248

Havaktri: …regardless, Tangorn doesn’t meet any snakes, which is disappointing. Alviss’ two-storey house was deep inside the garden, at the end of a sand path. The dashes of silver liberally applied by the Moon to the oleanders’ waxy leaves made the shadows under the bushes even darker, and the cicadas were singing a deafening chorus … whereas those who were waiting for the baron in the moonlit garden could easily hide on a freshly mowed lawn in the middle of the day and walk noiselessly across a creaky wooden floor covered with dry leaves. Not surprisingly, the blow to the back of the head (a large sock filled with sand – cheap and effective) took him unawares. How interesting; the competence of the Umbaran secret service and the Gondorian secret guard, whichever this may be, seems to vary wildly depending on what their role in the scene is. This phenomenon may bear further investigation… Plunged into a personal darkness, Tangorn did not see several black-robed figures gathering over him; nor did he see another set of figures, their robes of a slightly different cut, coalesce out of the night around them. He did not see what happened next, either – not that he would have made much sense of it: a nin’yokve fight is not something a dilettante can follow. It most resembles the chaotic dance of a pile of dry leaves blown up by a sudden gust of wind; the battle rages in complete, totally unnatural silence, broken only by the sound of connecting blows. So, if Tangorn can’t see this, and couldn’t follow it if he did see it… who is telling us this? And I must say, though my experience using it in combat is negligible, I do practice Sheshan talarash dasyannah, my people’s martial art tradition, for exercise and meditation… I wonder if I could follow that fight, if I were there?

MG: For my part, I’m still just confused as to why the city Yeskov has decided to code as Renaissance-era Italian seems to have a thriving population of ninjas.

Havaktri: Perhaps the secret service, losing confidence in their own agents, decided to outsource? But, alas, the fight is soon over, and Tangorn is dragged over to the steps and has his hood taken off to find himself surrounded by robed figures. He overhears them discussing how difficult their opponents were, and how they lost two of their own fighters – which is apparently a first – while failing to take any of the enemy alive. Finally, another man, hooded but dressed in civilian clothes, comes over and explains what happened. “A special team of Aragorn’s people tried to capture you, probably for a questioning followed by a liquidation. We interfered, but we’re not counting on your gratitude, as I’m sure you understand.” Tangorn thinks he was used as bait and isn’t amused; he asks the man if he’s DSD, but he’s not familiar with the abbreviation, apparently (did you really think he’d admit it if he was? Then again, with how often this organization apparently changes its name, maybe expecting their operatives to keep it all straight really is too much to ask…). However, the spy (is this our old friend Yakudze? Or someone else entirely?) has some bad news – Tangorn is going to be charged tomorrow with the murder of Algali (well, if he hadn’t put Algali into the position he was in, he wouldn’t have died, so… they’re not entirely wrong?). But the secret service doesn’t particularly want any information Tangorn might have to come out during his trial, so they want him to get out of Umbar by noon tomorrow, giving him information about a caravan he can take. As for why the secret service aren’t killing Tangorn themselves? “Professional courtesy,” smiled the hooded man. “Besides, I just like your takatos.” Ah, that’s nice, I think? Before he goes, the spy has one last piece of advice; – tread warily until you’ve left Umbar. I’ve followed you today all the way from the Long Dam, and I can’t help but feel that you’ve used up all your luck. One can detect such things instantly; I’m not joking, believe me.” So it is Yakudze, then? And I have to say, if all along the entire point of all of this back and forth and derring-do and changing plans was just for Yakudze to lay bait for some nameless secret guard agents we’ve never heard of and then kill them off-page… that’s very disappointing, not to mention confusing!

Age of Anachronisms: 150 (liquidation?)

Spies Like Us: 252

Havaktri: And so Tangorn is left thinking that maybe-Yakudze is right. It did look like his luck had run out. Well, that depends: today he lost utterly to everyone he could – the Elves, Aragorn’s men, the DSD – but managed to stay alive. No, wait – actually, he was allowed to live, that’s different. Or did he dream up the whole thing? The garden is empty, no one to ask but the cicadas … You always could ask the cicadas – they certainly always seem to have a lot to say! Assuming you understand them, that is, and I’m afraid I’ve never had the knack… He got up to his feet and knew right away that he did not dream up the blow to the head, at least: pain and nausea sloshed noisily around in his skull at about the ear level. He put his hand inside his jacket to find the key and felt the warm metal of the mithril mail, which he had put on back at the bank, for extra protection before meeting Elandar. Yeah, a fat lot of good it did him today, right … As soon as he opens the door, he’s greeted by two servants and Alviss herself. She wants to know what happened; he insists he’s just a little drunk but Alviss, to her credit, doesn’t believe him. She leads him off to bed, and then sometime later we find them lying naked together as Tangorn works up his courage. He finally mustered the courage to say: “Aly!” and she, somehow sensing immediately what he was about to say, sat up slowly, hugging her knees and putting her head down on them. Words stuck in his throat; he touched her arm and felt her move away a tiny distance that he would now have to spend the rest of his life crossing, without any guarantee that it would be enough time. That was how she was: constitutionally incapable of making a scene, she could be silent in a manner that made him feel like a total bastard for a week … and that’s exactly what you are, Baron. Didn’t she have some sort of a matrimonial prospect on the horizon before you showed up? She’s no little girl, she’s almost thirty … you’re an asshole, Baron, an indifferent selfish asshole. Finally, he tells her that the secret service have given him until tomorrow to leave Umbar forever; This is probably the tone in which men tell their mistresses that they can’t see them while their wives are suspecting something, he thought, and almost cringed with self-disgust. Not that I have experience, but… those don’t seem like the same thing at all? Unless Tangorn is having a torrid affair with Yakudze on the side, and hasn’t figured out how to tell Alviss that yet…

Alviss tells Tangorn it’s just fate – how very, ah, fatalistic – and apparently, she foresaw this and made plans of her own. Though when questioned she says it’s “Oh, nothing, just woman stuff …” One would think that Tangorn might be more interested in his lover’s plans and interests, but… apparently not. She gets up and puts on a robe, and Tangorn asks where she’s going. “To pack your things, where else?” She looked at him with a bit of surprise. “See, I can never be a high-society dame. Sorry, I’m just not refined enough. I should’ve made a hysterical scene right now, just for formality’s sake, right?” Is… is there a proper procedure for making a hysterical scene? This seems to be something my own education never covered… Tangorn finally manages to spit out what it was he was trying to say earlier. “Listen, Aly … I really can’t stay in Umbar, but you … what would you say if I asked you to go to Ithilien with me and become Baroness Tangorn there?” Beg pardon, but… is Tangorn the name of Tangorn’s barony? Or possibly the name of his house, though I didn’t think Gondorians usually used surnames… Alviss, however, would rather talk about grammar, which is an interesting choice. “I would say,” there was nothing but infinite weariness in her voice, “that you’ve always been too fond of the subjunctive, unfortunately. Whereas women, by their nature, prefer the imperative mood. Sorry.” And so Tangorn does decide to change the “mood.” “In the imperative it sounds like this: marry me! Is that better?” And that sounds like a command – I do believe the generally accepted form is a question? Not that I have much experience, admittedly? But Alviss does like it much better; she tells Tangorn to say it again, and He said it again, first down on one knee in front of her, then while slowly twirling her around the room. Then she did have a bit of hysterics, laughing and crying at the same time… When they finally got back to bed, she first put a finger to his lips and then took his hand in hers and carefully pressed it to her belly, whispering: “Shh! Don’t scare him!” *stunned* And so, apparently, Alviss is with child? I have to say, I was not expecting that…

She promises Tangorn that this is what her earlier plans related to, and so now no matter what happens she’ll have this child, and “somehow I know for sure that it will be a boy just like you.” I’ll… take your word on that? And poor Tangorn is thrown into a state of utter confusion by this revelation. He lay there in silence for some time, futilely trying to bring his thoughts into a semblance of order – too much at once. Tangorn the adventurer’s old life is over, that much is clear, but perhaps a quiet family idyll with Alviss is precisely the end that the Higher Powers meant? Or, conversely, am I being paid off to abandon Haladdin? But I can’t do anything else for him, my mission in Umbar has failed … Really? What if you had an opportunity right now to replay this and give your life in exchange for victory over Elandar? I don’t know … half an hour ago I would’ve given it without a doubt, but now – I don’t know. Chances are, I would’ve found some decent way of weaseling out of it, to be honest. Some trap this is … Oh, to hell with it all! he thought fatalistically, I have no strength left to figure out those puzzles, trying to imagine what the Higher Powers want. Let it all be however it will be. Finally, all he can ask if whether Alviss will be bored in Emyn Arnen, which he admits is a backwater (you are the one who invited her to live there… also, I do have to wonder, surely Tangorn’s title of baron comes with a barony that isn’t in Emyn Arnen, since that’s Faramir’s fief? I do wonder if Tangorn’s subjects aren’t missing him…). Alviss admits she’s had enough excitement in Umbar to last multiple lifetimes, and Anyway, Baron,” she stretched most alluringly, putting her hands behind her head, “isn’t it time for you to perform your marital duties?” “Absolutely, dear Baroness!” How curious – I wasn’t aware that merely being engaged to a noble granted you a title! But, on that note, as we leave the happy couple to their, ah, marital duties, the chapter comes to an end.

Spies Like Us: 254

Chapter Fifty-Four

Havaktri: And so, we open the last chapter of Part III as At dawn a vivino was singing in the garden. The bird perched on a chestnut branch right outside their open bedroom window; at first, his sad melodic trills seemed to Tangorn to be threads plucked out of the fabric of his dreams. He slipped out of bed (carefully so as not to disturb Alviss) and stole up to the window. The tiny singer put up his head so high that the yellow throat feathers formed a frothy collar around his neck, and finished with an excellent resounding note; then he turned his head in mock modesty and expectantly glanced at the baron: did you like it? Thank you, little friend! I know that vivinos are forest dwellers that hate the city. Did you fly here to say goodbye? That sounds like quite a lovely bird to me! But, considering what I believe is about to happen, I think Yeskov may be laying on the foreshadowing rather thickly? Unless the vivino really is here just to bid Tangorn farewell, which is considerate of it. Are vivions considered an omen, perhaps? Right! the bird winked mockingly and flitted into the garden; the vivino was a true Umbarian, stranger to Nordic sentimentality. That… I do not know what to make of? I was unaware birds of any sort were known for caring about human nationalities, or stereotypes thereof? Perhaps it is a druid in disguise… Alviss comes up and embraces Tangorn from behind, explaining that it’s “her” vivino and has been living in her garden for the past month. “I see …” Tangorn drawled, feeling, funnily enough, something like a pang of jealousy. “And here I thought that he came here for me.” Is there any reason to think a vivino bird can only be there for one person or one purpose? Perhaps the humble vivino contains multitudes! Alviss, though, says the vivino did first show up around the same time Tangorn returned to Umbar, so perhaps it is here for him after all. “In any event, it’s the best goodbye one can wish from Umbar … Hey, Aly, look – there’s another goodbye!” he laughed, pointing at a glum sleepy policeman stationed across the street beside Chakti-Vari’s jewelry shop. “The Secret Service politely reminds me to tread warily until I leave … All right. Have you changed your mind about going today? Maybe you want to settle your affairs here first?” One might think the secret service would perhaps post someone a bit more intimidating – and alert – to be the reminder of their veiled threat, perhaps?

Age of Anachronisms: 151 (once again, “Nordic”)

Mixed-up Mythos: 151 (also “Nordic,” as Gondor, once again, is inspired by a mix of Italian, Greek and Egyptian elements, with Gondor under the stewards being based loosely on the Byzantine Empire – not Nordic!)

Spies Like Us: 255

Havaktri: Regardless, Alviss is determined to leave with Tangorn today, leaving her solicitor behind in Umbar to settle her affairs there. “Nobody there would know what they are,” he nodded, watching Alviss dress with a smile. “Aren’t we quite a sight, girl? A bankrupt aristocrat with nothing but a sword and a moth-eaten title to his name is marrying the money of a successful widow of the merchant class …” “… said widow having started her career by selling her body left and right,” Alviss concluded in the same vein. “A total misalliance no matter how you look at it, a gold mine for gossips from both classes.” I don’t know, I’d always thought the idea of a penniless noble marrying a wealthy commoner, so that one partner gets money and the other a title, wasn’t so strange – and it’s not like anyone in Gondor knows Alviss’s background! Unless there’s something else about this relationship they’re not telling us… Tangorn, though, thinks there’s plenty of time for them to get married before they have to leave at noon, and Alviss agrees. “Yes, darling, certainly … I don’t care which rite, either. Let’s go Aritanian – their temple is nearby.” Now, my people have no tradition of marriage, so perhaps I’m not an expert, but… do temples really perform weddings on such short notice for anyone who happens to walk in? Especially since I don’t even think either of these people actually practices this religion, and just seem to have pulled the name out of a hat… Unfortunately, Alviss has suddenly had a premonition that something isn’t right here. Tangorn dismisses it and wants to get dressed and head to the Aritanian temple right away. “While you pretty up, I’ll have enough time to visit the honorable Chakti-Vari across the street and buy a wedding present. It’s early, but for this kind of money,” he picked up the bag with the remainder of Sharya-Rana’s gold, “the old man will fly out of bed like a startled pheasant and …” Alviss, though, panics again, saying she’s had another premonition – I had no idea she was clairvoyant! – and makes Tangorn promise not to leave the house without her. Oh, and when he does, he calls her “mommy,” which seems rather… odd.

She slips off to go get ready, leaving Tangorn to his self-pity. Congratulations, Baron, he thought gruffly, your beloved will walk you over by the hand to provide security, since you’re incapable of even that much. You’ve quit the game beaten – not exactly conducive to self-esteem – but if you really do obediently wait for Alviss now, you’ll simply lose the right to call yourself a man. And if her premonitions are true, then so much the worse for them. Maybe I’m not worth a copper as a spy, but I’m still the third sword of Gondor. I have the Slumber-maker and the mithril coat, should you guys want to risk it. Let your heads be my consolation prize, I’m quite in the mood for that … Damn! He almost laughed. Looks like I’m beginning to treat female premonitions seriously … *coldly* Oh? And is a woman’s premonition any less reliable than a man’s? Also, I have a strange suspicion Tangorn is about to get himself killed trying to prove his manhood to himself… which does not engender my sympathies. He scanned the empty garden, which was in full view from the second floor, then the empty Jasper street with the DSD man in police uniform. Guard cobras in Chakti-Vari’s store – so what? Feet over the windowsill, he thought fleetingly that he’d better spring clear of the flower bed, lest Alviss chew his head off over her favorite nasturtiums. And… he is doing it. *she sighs and facepalms* Sometimes, human behavior simply escapes me… and sometimes, I’m quite glad it does. A few moments later, Alviss runs to the window to see Tangorn about to cross the street – he blows her a kiss, which in context seems rather like a taunt, and she curses before reassuring herself that he’s armed, armored and wary. But then, just as he’s about to enter the jeweler’s shop, she spots something and screams his name. “Ta-a-a-a-n!!!” The desperate scream shattered the silence. Too late.

Spies Like Us: 257

Havaktri: And so, The policeman raised a hand to his mouth, and the next moment the baron sagged to the pavement, clutching his throat convulsively. Well, that was sudden. And seemed entirely avoidable, too… by the time Alviss has crossed the street and reached the body, it’s too late. The poisoned thorn spat from an ulshitan – a small blow tube used by Far Harad pygmies – struck him in the neck, a finger’s width above the mithril mail; the third sword of Gondor had no time to even draw the Slumber-maker. Alviss tried to lift him; the baron clutched her arms in a death grip and breathed hoarsely: “Tell … Faramir … un … done …”; he tried to say something else, but lacked the air to do it: the alkaloids of the anchar tree on which the pygmies’ poison is based paralyze the respiratory muscles. The baron failed both to complete his mission and to let his comrades know about it; he died with that thought. *she sighs* And so passes Tangorn of Gondor, a victim of poison and his own sudden machismo. What an odd way to go – and one which comes quite out of nowhere, as if Yeskov was suddenly compelled to kill the character at the end of the Part and thus did it, without trying to make it flow logically from the rest of the story? Meanwhile, a man nicknamed the Ferryman, who works for Elandar, has been watching and lowers his crossbow, having apparently decided his services are no longer needed. He wonders who the killer was working for, and decides it must be the secret service, since he thinks it wasn’t messy enough for Gondor. But, as it happens, he’s wrong. By that time Mongoose had already shed his police uniform, becoming once again a duly accredited ambassador of His Majesty the Sultan Sagul the Fifth the Pious, the mighty ruler of non-existent Florissant Islands. Surely claiming to be from an actual country would serve him better? A nonexistent country would presumably have nonexistent political connections and nonexistent credentials… but maybe those are the best kind.

He walked briskly but without undue haste towards the port, where a previously chartered felucca named Trepang was waiting for him. The duel of the two lieutenants ended the way it had to end, because another way a professional differs from an amateur is that he plays not until he has scored a beautiful goal or until he has a psychological crisis, but rather until the sixtieth second of the last minute of the game. By the way, for Mongoose that sixtieth second occurred at the port, where he had another chance to demonstrate his high degree of professionalism. He himself probably would have been unable to say exactly what it was about the Trepang’s crew that alerted him, but he turned to the skipper as the man stepped on the ramp after him, as if to ask a question, chopped him across the throat with the edge of his palm and stepped off into the rusty, oily water between the pier and the ship. The two seconds he gained thereby were enough to get a little green pill from behind his collar and swallow it, so Yakudze’s operatives only captured another unidentified corpse (the fourth that day). The game that the special team from Task Force Féanor played with the Umbarian Secret Service ended in a draw, nil-nil. …oh, so it was all pointless, then? What a… relief to know that Yeskov was wasting everyone’s time – unless there really was a secret message encoded in the text? Perhaps I shall search for one – also, I am intrigued by this poisoned pill that is, apparently, potent enough to kill one of the undead… assuming Mongoose was undead this chapter. Maybe he wasn’t? We cut back to Alviss as she holds Tangorn’s body in her arms, and we learn that there was apparently something Tangorn himself did not live long enough to discover: it was precisely his death at the hands of the Secret Guard that settled Elandar’s doubts, so that same evening his package started north, to Lórien, via routes unknown to any man. Nor was he to know that Alviss heard his last choking whisper as “tell Faramir: done!” and would do everything properly … And so, everything did work out as planned for our heroes, by random chance; except for Tangorn, at least, who died. Though he came to Umbar expecting to die, so… perhaps it did work out after all? And the Someone tirelessly knitting the gorgeous tapestry we call History out of invisible coincidences and rather visible human weaknesses immediately put the entire episode out of His mind: a gambit is a gambit, you sacrifice a piece to win the game, and that’s all there is to it … And apparently the supreme deity of this world actively scarified Tangorn to win his game against… who is he playing against, anyway? Himself, perhaps? Which doesn’t seem like it would be much comfort to Tangorn! Especially since his god has apparently now decided, having used him, to forget him… And so, on this troubling theological revelation, the chapter – and Part III – comes to an end.

MG: And so, it does! First off, we have some endnotes about Tangorn’s assassination. Ulshitan – a derivative of sumpitan, the blow tubes used by Dayaks. And Anchar – a mythical super-poisonous tree of Oriental legend. The paralytic action described is that of the curare poison. With that out of the way, my reaction to the conclusion to this part is that in the end, it really feels completely unnecessary. Or, rather, like it walked in from a completely different book – I think it’s really obvious that Yeskov wanted to write a Cold War spy thriller and just… forced one in here, regardless of whether it fit or not (just look how my ‘Spies Like Us’ counter skyrocketed in this part!) along with introducing a bunch of players we don’t know and are never given much reason to care about, whose actions end up cancelling each other out. In the end, I have no idea what the secret service wanted from Tangorn in the first place; if it really was just to lure out some nameless Secret Guard mooks for them to assassinate, that’s… terribly underwhelming. And in the end both Tangorn and Mongoose seem to have gotten bridges dropped on them, in Tangorn’s case facilitated by a sudden bout of machismo-induced stupidity. Tangorn’s own scheme and the package he just sent to Lorien will, ultimately, be important in the resolving of the main plot, but I still don’t think it merits an entire Part all to itself – imagine if in the actual LotR, we spent an entire Book on political wrangling in Edoras to expose Wormtongue as a traitor, with the rest of the story being essentially unchanged, and I think that gives a sense of how much time and effort we spend on something that, while important, isn’t important enough to merit such attention. As for some of the characters introduced here – Elandar will get a couple of more mentions, nothing more. Yakudze and his people, and their scheme for defeating Gondor that their whole business here was supposed to cover for, won’t get resolved until the epilogue. Alviss also won’t show up again in the epilogue, when we find out what eventually becomes of her and her and Tangorn’s son… and ooh, boy, it’s a doozy. Anyway, with this Part out of the way, we’re ready to head on to the final Part of the fic, Part IV: Ransom for a Shadow, in which we finally return to Haladdin and find out what he’s been up to. We’ll see you then! Our counts stand at:

Age of Anachronisms: 151

The Dung Ages: 84

Elven Brutality: 170

Linguistic Confusion: 62

Mixed-up Mythos: 151

Mordor the Magnificent: 81

Not So Magnificent: 44

Spies Like Us: 260

Take That, Tolkien!: 50

I’m also partway through my reread and commentary on the (in)famous epic Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic Embers which can be found here if you’re interested!

Since this January, 2024, marks my tenth anniversary as a sporker at this comm, I also did a brief writeup reflecting on my experiences here, my past sporkings, and a bit on what I’m likely to be doing in the near future; you can read it on my journal here if that interests you!