A deep sense of foreboding encompassed the Slayer. “Show yourself,” she demanded. She could make out quick movements in the shadows. Large dark shapes were closing in around her. It took only a few seconds for Buffy to realize what these gargantuan shapes were: spiders! Not the itsy bitsy ones like at home, but monstrous forms that gave off a stench of foulness. She could not guess their number, as she couldn’t see beyond the closest ones. She distinctively heard a voice say, “Tasty little morsel.” But that’s impossible; spiders can’t talk. Or maybe she was now in some bizarro world where these hideous beasts could communicate.

As the creatures made their move, Buffy quickly put her weapons to use. She was still wielding both her sword and her scythe with dead on precision. She hewed many legs off her enemies, which twitched momentarily before lying still. This made for an easy kill as her blades went through them like butter. It didnÂ’t take her long to realize that she was greatly outnumbered by the beasts. Her thoughts soon turned to fleeing from this predicament she found herself in. She then noticed some spiders trying stealthily to approach her from the rear. She quickly spun around and leapt at these creatures and stabbed at their enormous forms. She could feel both weapons penetrating their flesh. The stench from their wounds was a hundred times worse then anything Buffy ever smelled before. Yet she kept on fighting, keeping her ground and trying to keep her wits. There was no one to bail her out of this situation that she now found herself in.

She decided it was best to flee. No matter how many she took down, there were more to take their place. Just like the über-vamps she fought only minutes earlier in the Hellmouth. Buffy wasn’t one to run from a fight, but she was already exhausted from her previous battle and had no rest between them. She decided to run in the direction that most of them came from, which was directly in front of her. Her adrenaline was running high and she continued to make mince meat out of everything that was in her path. Step by step she was beginning to make progress. She cursed the spiders as well as taunted them as she cleaved through their hides. She dove under one, stabbed it repeatedly and rolled out on the other side before it collapsed onto the ground. She could hear its howls of pain echoing in the gloominess that surrounded her. This method worked for a while, as she was able to advance several yards until one caught on to her technique and soon had her within its grasp. Its pinchers squeezed the air from her lungs as it lifted her high off the ground. Despite the sweltering heat, she was ever grateful that she still had on her thick wool coat. While she did feel her skin tear, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.

She mustered her strength and pushed her sword through the top of its head. She followed this with puncturing several of its beady eyes. The spider dropped her to the ground and she proceeded to hack at anything within reach. Getting back on her feet, she stormed the spiders in front of her cleaving an escape route. There must have been at least a couple dozen dead spiders on the ground. Perhaps that was the reason that many of them got out of her way. She quickly ran as fast as her little feet would carry her thinking that she got past another set of BauglirÂ’s emissaries.

Unfortunately for the Slayer, she was being led into a trap. Within minutes she became enmeshed in the biggest webs she had ever seen. She could feel them sticking to her eyelashes and even worse – her mouth. She tried to pull herself free, but this stuff was like super glue. She managed to pull her weapons out of the netting and soon began to tear at the webs that she was entangled in. Thank God it worked! Her head was beginning to throb and every part of her body ached. Fatigue was definitely setting in. After managing to get free, Buffy picked up her pace again and ran. She knew that the spiders were still all around her, but they weren’t on top of her. She couldn’t ask for anything better than that unless it was being free from these monsters. Buffy gathered speed and noticed that the spiders were falling behind. Finally, she thought to herself. It was then that she lost her footing on some brambles and fell face first into the thorny bushes. “Damn it!” she mumbled under her breath. She used the sleeve of her coat to wipe the stickers from her face. Her entire face was now burning, but thankfully none of the thorns got in her eyes. She imagined herself being horribly disfigured from these last two battles.

She attempted to get up when she noticed legs surrounding her. She was just able to roll over when she noticed a humongous spider straddling her. A stinger the size of a yardstick was there to greet her. Cursing to herself, she held up the blade of her scythe to use as a shield. At the same time, the spider was lowering itself and the sound of the stinger colliding with the blade echoed in the dimness. She had to use both arms to keep this thing at bay. Lower it still came. Her arms were trembling from fatigue and it didnÂ’t help that she was still lying in a bed of thorns. The stinger made a screeching sound as it began to slide along the blade, heading directly for the Slayer’s already bloody face. Within seconds it would slide off. She had to do somethingÂ… fast. Her arms were beginning to give and the feeling of hopelessness was starting to overcome her. Gathering her strength once again, she pushed up on the beast, angling her weapon so that the stinger would slide in the opposite direction. It was working. Suddenly she pulled her left hand free and drove her blade deep into the belly of the demonic creature. It wailed in pain as Buffy twisted the blade within its flesh and rammed it even deeper. Thick black blood began to ooze out of its wound when Buffy removed the blade. She quickly shoved it back in again until the spider retracted its weapon and stumbled backwards. Its blood burned her skin when it made contact and she desperately tried to rub it off on her pant leg. She did a forward roll and looked at the creature cowering on the ground. The other spiders were intensely watching the hurt one. The Slayer took advantage of this situation by running like hell. She didnÂ’t bother to look back.

Buffy didnÂ’t know how long it took her to escape the spidersÂ’ lair. It was hours or so it seemed. But she could tell she found her way out because she could finally make out the night sky dotted with stars. The air seemed cleaner too. She could see that she was in the bottom of some valley. Its deep walls she wasnÂ’t ready to scale just yet so she kept on the same course that she found herself walking. There was no way she was going to stop, as she was still too close to danger. She did manage to wipe her weapons clean and put her sword back in her bag. This allowed her to use her wounded hand to pull out the remaining thorns that were still in her face. She could tell that it was swollen.

Her thoughts soon turned to Bauglir and Allandro. Allandro had told her the amulet was made for her. Did that mean that she was supposed to be here? And where exactly was here? It wasnÂ’t Cleveland, thatÂ’s for sure. The Hellmouth definitely closed. She saw that much. And it wasnÂ’t a cold wintry day either. Quite the opposite. In fact, to her it seemed like spring or summer. The evening air was cool, but not cold. And the grass beneath her feet was green. Was Bauglir here? He said he would bring her pain and well, check that one off, because she was certainly feeling it. Ever molecule of her body ached. And she was so thirsty. Looking around at the deserted land she knew she wouldnÂ’t wander upon a 7 Eleven in which she could refresh herself with a super-size slurpy. At this point she would get on all fours and lap up water from a mud hole, if she could find one. But those thoughts she put behind her, for now. Her limbs were stiff and all she wanted to do was sleep. After what seemed to be an hour or so, she did just that.

Buffy didnÂ’t know how long she had been asleep, but when she awoke again, it was still rather dark. She had no idea if it was dawn or dusk. Her thoughts soon turned to water. Her lips were chapped feeling and her mouth was as dry as the Sahara. Feeling the dampness on the ground, she determined that it was probably morning dew. She rolled over on her belly and actually licked the dew off the grass. What a sight it would be if someone came wandering up looking at a badly beaten woman licking the grass in order to wet her whistle! But desperate times call for desperate measures. Licking the dew was not very satisfying. If anything, it was more like a tease. After several minutes, she gave up on this idea. Perhaps if she followed the course she chose, she would stumble upon some type of water.

The Slayer walked in what she determined was a westerly direction. That is, if in this realm the sun rose in the east and set in the west. Angel had told her about the demonic world of Pylea where there were two suns in the sky during the day. There was only one here. When the sun finally did show its face, the heat soon overwhelmed Buffy. She pulled off her coat and sweater and felt much more comfortable in her bra. Her wounds from the spidersÂ’ pinchers had already scabbed over and she still had dried blood all over her stomach and sides. Her khakis were also covered in a strange mixture of her enemiesÂ’ blood as well as her own. Without water, she couldnÂ’t clean up.

She saw few signs of life. An occasional flock of birds would fly overhead once or twice a day. At night, bats could be seen fluttering about in the darkness. There was nothing worth noting until the second night of her ‘arrival’ in this world. She had once again fallen asleep. According to her watch, (yes, it still worked. It was a Timex after all!), it was 1:27 A.M. when she had last looked at it before falling into her slumber. She was dreaming about swimming in a clear pool of water when she awakened all the sudden to find a beastly looking creature above her swinging his weapon down upon her. Quickly she rolled over with her scythe in hand. She was able to block the next blow with the handle. Kicking herself unto her feet she noticed that this demon was wearing armor. Something she didn’t run across very often in her usual everyday slaying. He was much bigger than her and for some reason, she kept thinking about Planet of the Apes even though he wasn’t one. His long, dark leathery arms protruded from his armor and he had a helmet on his head. This thing was definitely some type of warrior demon. She just hadn’t come across things like this before. Its teeth were like yellow daggers and he obviously never heard of the word deodorant or cologne. He smelled something fierce.

The Slayer immediately noticed his most vulnerable spot – his neck. This was not covered in iron and she was able to hew his head off. But he wasn’t alone. There must have been about thirty of these creatures. They growled and barked orders at one another. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” said one in a deep grumbly voice. Another answered, “The sweeter she shall taste.”

“Taste this you son of a bitch,” she stammered. Her mouth was so dry and it was hard to get any words out. But her adrenaline was kicking in and she was soon attempting to duel with this thing despite not having her sword handy. She prayed that the wooden handle wouldn’t splinter or shatter from blocking his blows. But she managed to hew off his arm, which left him howling in pain. At least that was enough for him to withdraw from the action, but there were more to take his place. Buffy soon managed to take out six more of these demons. She desperately wanted to get to her bag and get her sword, as it would serve her better in this type of combat. Her blade would pierce through their armor, but she was worried that the scythe would become damaged. It was made for vampires not demons that wore armor. The sword on the other hand, was made exactly for this type of contest.

But BuffyÂ’s body was also a weapon and she used that more than her scythe. It was more effective. She could somersault over one, turn around and hew off his head before he even knew where she went. Taking his headless corpse, she would use this as a shield as the others continued their attack. But like all demons, they werenÂ’t the brightest bulbs in the box. Instead of all of them attacking at once, maybe, one or two would. When they fell, they would be replaced by two more. She saw this beforeÂ… many times over. The beastly creatures would curse every time one of their brethren fell. Yet they still fought in the same stupid fashion.

When she was down to the remaining ten (including one arm guy who sat wincing holding his stub), her luck seemed to change. It wasn’t exhaustion this time. Perhaps it was stupidity on her part. It was still dim and Buffy didn’t realize that one managed to get behind her. He grabbed her in a full nelson and pulled her off the ground. She was kicking wildly and tried to do a reverse head butt when she hit his ironclad head instead of his flesh. This left her momentarily dazed and she dropped her scythe. “Lishnâk,” he yelled. “I’ve got her now. Pretty little elf’s not going anywhere.” Elf? Thought Buffy. Who the hell is he calling an ‘elf’?

The one called Lishnâk approached Buffy. She was still squirming in the others hold. She could feel his hot putrid breath on the back of her neck. Her chin was almost touching her chest and it was very painful. “Don’t snap her neck, yet, Bâzdúsh,” he growled to the beast that was holding her. “Let’s have a little fun. Master would be pleased that we caught such a… ”

Buffy wished she had enough saliva to spit in his face. Instead she interrupted him by saying, “You’re dead you ugly bastard, I’m gonna… ”

His claw-like hand gripped her face so that she was forced to look directly at his hideous face. His nails dug into her flesh. “You’re going to what?” he asked with a laugh. The surviving members of his group also laughed at her words.

“Let me have her. Let me have her,” shouted the one with the missing appendage.

“Not now, Bôrurk,” barked Lishnâk over his shoulder. Buffy could feel her own blood oozing from the wounds on her face. “Look at all my men you’ve taken out. I have not seen an elf maid do anything of this sort before… ”

“I’m not an elf,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m the Slayer.”

“Slayer,” he repeated over and over again in a mocking tone. “Looks like you’re gonna get a taste of your own medicine.” With that he rammed a knife into BuffyÂ’s stomach. Her body tightened up and she ceased flailing her legs. “How does that taste sweetness?” He withdrew the blade and moved within inches from her face. She was stunned that she had been stabbed. He licked the blade of the knife. “Tastes sweet to me,” he whispered to her. “ItÂ’s a feast tonight boys!” he exclaimed to his fiendish friends and they were soon walloping their weapons against their shields with delight.

Buffy mustered her strength once again. There was no way she was going to be kibbles and bits for these fiends. Before he could plunge the knife in again, she balled up her legs and kicked him with all her might. He must have gone flying a good twenty feet. Buffy used her fingernails as a weapon for the beast holding her. She moved her hand behind her head and raked her nails across his face. He let out a scream and loosened his grip. She managed to do a back flip over him just in time for him to be on the receiving end of another demons blade. Using him as a shield, she picked up her weapon again. She threw his wounded body at the one coming for her and they both fell to the ground, one on top of the other. She swung her blade through both of them. Only four remained. She noticed that the one arm demon called Bôrurk was running for it. The survivors seemed quite shocked that she was able to overwhelm them. They, too, started to run for it. Buffy pulled the knife out of its sheath that she wore on her leg and threw it at the one lagging behind. It made contact underneath his helmet. She sprinted over to where he fell, clutching her stomach as she ran. She pounced on top of his back and pulled out the blade. She flipped him over to see if he was still alive. He was. “Who are you working for?” she demanded as she held the blade to his throat piercing his flesh so he understood that she meant business.

“My Master,” he sputtered breathlessly. “My Master is Lord of All the World.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” she said. He winced as his blood began to trickle out of his wound. “Is it Bauglir? Is that his name? The First?”

“My Master is Lord of All the World,” he repeated again. “And soon, he’s going to destroy all of your kind,” he growled. Buffy saw that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this monster, so she pushed all of her weight down on the blade, severing his head from his body which immediately went into spasms. The force sent a jet of blood straight at her face. She jumped off of him, spitting out the blood that sprayed in her mouth and looked to see where the others went. The sun was beginning to rise and they were already like little dots in the distance. She pulled off her sweater (she wore it at night in order to keep warm, despite the stench of it), and used it to wipe the demons blood off her face. She then examined her own wound.

Blessed with healing powers, her injury would soon mend itself. She balled up her sweater and pressed it against her stomach hoping that would stop the flow of blood. She went to pick up her duffel bag and noticed that her sword was gone. “Damn it!” she said upon discovering its absence. It dawned on her that one of those freakishly ugly creatures must have taken it. As the sun beamed over the mountain tops in the east, Buffy decided to check all the enemies for her weapon, but more importantly – for water.

As Buffy rummaged through the bodies looking for her sword she noticed the arrival of buzzards. Lots of them pecking away at the corpses that lay on the ground. She also noticed whirls of smoke a short distance away. Picking up her belongings, she headed in the direction of the smoke. She soon came upon the demons camp. There were literally dozens and dozens of flasks littered about the campsite, much to BuffyÂ’s relief. Opening up a flask, she sniffed the liquid inside. She could smell nothing. She wiped the opening the best that she could and took a swig. Her first conclusions were: A. it was definitely not water and tasted bitter; B. it felt warm going down; C. this stuff was incredibly invigorating and D. it actually quenched her thirst. It was like Popeye with his spinach. She gulped down more of the liquid and she could feel the weariness leaving her limbs instantaneously. She consumed three such flasks. Buffy was surprised that the demons possessed such a beverage. She began to gather all the flasks she could and stuff them into her duffel bag. She didnÂ’t have room for all of them, but she felt she had enough to get by.

Another thing about slaying is that it makes you hungry. Buffy was leery about eating the ‘food’ that she found at their camp. It looked like some type of beef jerky or dehydrated turds. She couldn’t decide which. She concluded that since they were willing to eat her, she better not eat anything they had. Period. It might be some poor old soul or something. She wasn’t that hungry. Not yet, any way.

The Slayer then had to decide which way to travel. Since she felt re-energized, she decided that now was the best time to scale the hill facing south. The demons went north and Buffy felt that if she got to the top of the hill, she would be able to see the lay of the land better. This might indicate which direction she should go. Besides, watching the buzzards rip at the flesh of the demons wasnÂ’t a pretty sight. It was time to go.

Climbing up the hillside was much easier with the aid of this miracle elixir she now possessed. She felt her strength returning as though she had been well rested. She still had a bad case of B.O., but hopefully she could remedy that as soon as she found some water. When Buffy was about half way up, she distinctly heard the sound of voices. Actually it was more like singing. She stopped suddenly and listened intently. It didnÂ’t sound like the demons that she had just encountered. Their song was a celebratory tune. Buffy bit her still aching lip and decided she would see who was on top of the hill.

Buffy nearly fainted when she reached the top. Not from exhaustion, but by what she saw. There were two wagons, each harnessed to a pony. Sitting on the ground were, believe it or not, seven dwarves. Buffy laughed at the irony of that. Seven dwarves. Did that mean she was Show White? It was good for a momentary chuckle any way. “Hail, victorious Lady,” began one as they all stood up to greet her. “We had been watching you battle with the enemy. Very impressive.” They all murmured in agreement and Buffy stood there absolutely stunned. “Oh,” he began again. “Where are my manners? Lady, my name is Drór and I am one of the Lords of Belegost.”

“Did you say Drór?” asked Buffy. “And what’s a Belegost?”

The Dwarves laughed in a gruntingly fashion. “Yes, I said Drór. And Belegost are the halls where we dwell.” When he saw the confused look on the Slayer’s face he continued, pointing to the southeast. “Our home is further south and to the east in the Blue Mountains.” None of this registered with Buffy. Drór introduced Buffy to the rest of his ‘kin’ and as he said their name (each sounding stranger and stranger); they would bow before Buffy and say, “at your service.” She found that to be really… weird. All the dwarves were about four to six inches shorter than her. All had wavy to curly brown hair with matching long beards and mustaches. Some of them actually braided their beards, which was definitely not in fashion back home. But they were very polite and to Buffy’s eyes, could really only be distinguished by the color of their cloaks. For each one of them had a different color cloak on. “And whom might you be?” asked Drór, whom Buffy took to be the leader of the pack.

“My name’s Buffy,” she said. They looked at her rather oddly. When Buffy saw their reaction she added, “It’s not that strange. No stranger than Drór.” That last sentence she merely whispered to herself. She didn’t want to offend the dwarves.

“You must be weary from the battle. Sit. We will see to it that you are refreshed. Surely an enemy of the enemy is a friend to us dwarves.”

“You guys wouldn’t happen to have any water?” Buffy asked with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“Indeed we do,” responded the purple-cloaked dwarf. Buffy had already forgotten their names, except for Drór. That one she could remember for some reason. “We dwarves are prepared when we travel.” He dug out a wooden bowl from a large sack and filled it with water from one of the barrels on the wagon. “We were traveling to the Falas to conduct a bit of business when we were waylaid by a band of yrch,” he continued as he handed her the bowl full of water. Buffy’s thirst was already quenched and all she really wanted was to clean up. She untied the sweater from around her waist, (she did that as she climbed up the hill), and the dwarves saw her injury.

“Oh my,” interrupted the yellow cloaked dwarf. “You are hurt. Let me help you.” He began rummaging through another sack.

“Thanks,” said Buffy. “I suppose you guys wouldn’t happen to have a mirror in there?”

“Mirror?” questioned the yellow-cloaked dwarf. “Indeed I do,” he replied as he pulled one out of a satchel. “Here you go, Lady.”

“Thanks. And you can call me Buffy.” Buffy took the small mirror and looked at her face. The gash across her lip was scabbed over and she had dried blood smeared all over her face. Her face was covered in little red dots from the thorns that reminded her of chicken pox. And she had two gashes on either side of her face from the demons claws. She took the piece of cloth that was offered to her, dabbed it in the water and began clean her face. “I look like crap,” she mumbled. She noticed that her blonde hair was streaked with blood as well. She was a blood-encrusted version of Carrie, without all the evil telekinetic powers.

“Please Lady, uh, I mean, Buffy, sit down and I will tend to your wound,” said the dwarf that Buffy now referred to as Yellow. “How is this possible? It is already closed up.” He shook his head as the other dwarves came in for a closer look. “This salve will help with all of your injuries.”

Another one then asked, “How did you learn to fight like that? In my one hundred and two years of life, I have never beheld anything like that before.”

Buffy then explained to the dwarves about being a Slayer, her battle with The First, the closing of the Hellmouth in Cleveland and being transported here via a portal. She also told them about fighting the spiders before she came across the demonic creatures that woke her from her pleasant sleep. As she told her story, the dwarves offered her food. This she willingly took. She couldnÂ’t sense any evil vibe coming from them and they were so damn nice. At least she wasnÂ’t alone. That brought her some comfort. They sat in amazement as she retold her story again leaving out no details. All the while, Yellow continued to apply his ointment on her cuts and abrasions that she had all over her body.

The dwarves even gave her a clean green tunic to wear. It was a little wrinkly, but that was okay. It didnÂ’t stink and wasnÂ’t covered in bodily fluids. They didnÂ’t think it was such a great idea for her to go walking about showing so much skin. It wasnÂ’t proper. She was just glad to have something cool to put on. She went around in her bra more out of necessity than anything else.

After telling her story, Buffy began to ask questions. Such as, where the hell was she? Does Bauglir reside in this world? And why the hell is she here? And what were those funky armored creatures? She discovered that she was in a land called Beleriand and the dwarves had never stumbled upon anyone like her before. Other than dwarves and the evil creatures of Bauglir, the elves lived in these lands. It was an Elven King that claimed the lordship of all Beleriand except for the Halls where the dwarves dwelt. The demons that she had fought were called yrch. Buffy found all this very interesting and strange. Elves. She remembered that those yrch called her an elf. And man did not exist in this reality. That was totally bizarre to Buffy. A world without men. She thought everything here might be super-sized and then she learns of dwarves and elves. Was this a land of little people? And would that make Buffy the biggest non-evil being in this world?

The dwarves couldn’t or wouldn’t answer all of her questions. They were examining her weapons, clothing and jewelry that she wore. They were appalled to find that she took the drink of the enemy. They scolded her for that and tossed the flasks into the valley below them. “Poison. Never take anything from the enemy,” chastised Red. They would give her water and some provisions for the road. Buffy had kind of thought that she could go with the dwarves, but they immediately shot that down.

“We had more in our party while you were fighting the yrch,” said Drór. “We sent them ahead to alert the March Wardens of Eglador.”

“Egla- what?” asked a confused Buffy.

The dwarf shook his head. “Eglador,” he replied very slowly as if Buffy was retarded or something. “That is the name of the lands of Thingol, the Elven King. We have more important matters to deal with. The elves possess great wisdom and knowledge and may be able give you the aid you need. We are not permitted to bring strangers to our Halls. If all goes well with Thingol, than perhaps one day you will be welcomed.” He smiled reassuringly. “They are a good people. And the Queen has great powers from beyond the sea, or so they say. We will take you with us for a while. As far as to the road to Eglador. Come now. We are already behind schedule.”

Buffy then climbed onto the back of the wagon. “I suppose there’s no… Holiday Inn or Amtrak station in these parts, huh?” she asked Blue as the wagon started forward.

“Lady?” he asked inquisitively. “I have heard of no such places. There is no town or village along this road on which we ride.”

“Lucky me,” she mumbled to herself. Buffy continued to talk with the dwarves as they rode down the stone road. It was dark again when her journey with the dwarves ended. They instructed her to head due south where she would enter the realm of Thingol. In appreciation, she gave her watch to Drór. He had been eyeing it for quite some time and she felt she wouldn’t need it any longer. Buffy stood on the side of the road as she heard the clippity clop of the pony’s hooves fade in the distance. And then they were gone.

Meanwhile, the surviving yrch reached their home in the north, Angband. They reported to the Dark Lord of those lands that an elf-maid had waylaid them and killed most of them. “She called herself the Slayer,” informed one arm orch. “Great skill she had in battle and did things that I have not seen before.”

Upon hearing this news Bauglir sat for several minutes in silence. Being the greatest of all the Powers, he searched his mind, looking backwards and forwards in time seeking out for one called The Slayer. Bauglir furrowed his eyebrows once he discovered what the Slayer was. “And you did not kill her?” he exclaimed breaking the silence at last. “For that, you shall be punished!” His minions were ordered to drag off the survivors to the dungeons where they would be tormented and tortured. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that the Slayer would arrive in Middle-earth so soon after him. His thoughts immediately turned to her destruction.