Prompt: Lake Helevorn: Greed is good! Prove or disprove with fic.
I say: Ew, Ayn Rand.
Now that that's done with, fic! Strict proportionality is the enemy of greed. Whether it measures the good is another question.
I say: Ew, Ayn Rand.
Now that that's done with, fic! Strict proportionality is the enemy of greed. Whether it measures the good is another question.
For one of them, he wasn't much: half-drowned, his calf sliced open, seeming sicker than the dog old Bereg put down last week.
“This bled Pelargir white?” folk muttered.
The Corsair cowered, uncomprehending, but when men seized him, he babbled pleadingly, even tore the rings from his ears in offering.
But they're not gold-grubbers. They'll take only what's theirs.
Next morn, Bereg cut him down. “Gold ain't worth a man's life,” he tsked. “Should oughter've known!”
Author's Notes: Ere that dark day ended none of the enemy were left - “The Last Debate,” RoTK, where it is said that all remaining Haradrim either drowned or fled after the army of the Dead swept through Pelargir's environs.
Although it's not necessary for this story, I'm assuming that the Pelargir the townsfolk are muttering about and to which they have lost men is the Pelargir described in the last drabble of Pelargir.
Although it's not necessary for this story, I'm assuming that the Pelargir the townsfolk are muttering about and to which they have lost men is the Pelargir described in the last drabble of Pelargir.