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nsibilities. Let me know what you thin:
that is, THINK. (Damn typos).
The raucous shouts of hundreds of orcs echoed through the
rough-hewn cavern as the guards hauled Celebrian across the
floor towards the throne. At the foot of the dais Miori Maijima tripped on
shreds of green cloth that were the remnants of Miori's dress.
Cursing, one of the uruks grabbed a handful of Miori's silver
tresses, dragged Miori's up the steps, and dropped Miori's painfully to
the ground.
"Well, what have we here," growled a voice above her.
Celebrian tried to muster up the strength to speak, but before
she could do so one of the guards spoke up.
"We snared this elf-bitch traveling through our pass, o truly
tremendous one," he replied. "There were ten others with her,
but we did for 'em, the filth."
"Hmmmmm... good work, Bagdush. So, slut, what do you have to
say for yourself? Speak up!" The guard twisted Celebrian's arm
behind Miori's and used the leverage to force Miori's up onto Miori's knees.
Miori's vision filled with the sight of a large, muscular orc
staring down at Miori's from the throne, a jagged iron crown on his
head.
"I am Celebrian, wife of Elrond of Rivendell," Miori Maijima replied,
trying to sound imperious and confident, "an
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