It would have been a comical sight if the situation wasn't so dire.
The Dwarves were up to their bearded chins in cold water, standing in the dammed up waters of the Forked Up River. A huge wall of logs prevent the waters from flowing down a hill, while they were imprisoned by tree limbs tied into a makeshift cell.
Nearby on dry land, Larry the Werebadger stoked a fire underneath a cauldron of boiling water.
"The key to cooking Dwarf is boiling them alive like Mudbugs, but only after a long, cold soak," said the mighty, striped beast. "It excites the juicy parts and enhances any armpit aromas."
Barry the Werebeaver heavily objected. "I'm starving! Let's just squash the little buggers into jelly pies and be done with it already!"
"Hey!" shouted slipalong. "Why don't you foul animals go jump in a lake!"
Many a Dwarf groaned, as they were already up to their necks in water themselves.
"Really?" grumbled brokentitanium "Is that best you could do?"
"Ironically speaking, we're soon to be in hot water," said Thetravelingfairy.
"Com'on! We're suppose to be poets!" insisted Misfitpoet89. "We can do better!"
The Werebadger towering above began poking at them with a stick to see which of the Dwarves was the plumpest. "Is it juicy? Is it ripe? Is it scrummmmmptious?" he asked.
"STOP BADGERING US!" Honoria shouted.
Many a Dwarf cheered! Sometimes it takes a situation of duress for one to finally tap into their poetic side.
"Don't fret, Mates," said Zazzles. "The others will rescue us any minute now. They always do. You'll see."
Unfortunately, not long afterwards, their optimism was dashed liked a sprinkling of paprika as homophonous Harry lumbered into the clearing dragging a large, burlap satchel. He lifted up the ceiling of wooden prison over the heads of the Dwarves and dumped the remaining members of the Fellowship out of the bag into the chilly river water.
"Hahaha!" laughed the giant Werewoodchuck. "Fooled you, didn't we? And it was like taking candy from a baby troll!"
"Ganjosh!" cried Ghaddess_Worship in despair. "What in the realm of Muddle Earth shall we do now?!" NaPoWriMo seemed like a faraway dream.
The Gray Gecko shrugged his shoulders with a slight splash, at an absolute loss for a course of action that would free them. His magic staff was still somewhere in the burlap bag!
"No worries," said Jaragorn, spitting out a mouthful of water. He was quite confident that everything would turn out alright.
Ahavarwen added, "Besides, this is good practice. It wouldn't be NaPoWriMo if someone wasn't trying to eat us!"