This work will contain moments of intense violence, dark and dirty humor, and possible canonical diversions. If any of these rustle you to an unmanageable degree, then perhaps another fic will suffice.
Let it be known that I am nowhere near close to enough of a LOTR fan to adhere to its canon much, in fact most knowledge here was gleaned from the SOM game itself which I've heard has been considered and confirmed by many purists uncanonical despite the wealth of similarities. Therefore I will state right here and now that I will not be following the canonicity of Tolkien's works to a T either, and will even tread lightly in terms of the game's canon in order to limit the number of restrictions my lack of precise knowledge regarding the LOTR universe may bring up.
Similar to that, my knowledge of RWBY thus far consists of the currently aired episodes and trailers, therefore any potential mediums of information whether they be from panels, books and so forth will not be included. Just a fair warning for those who may feel disappointed due to canon complications.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings, the Middle-Earth universe, Shadow of Mordor or RWBY.
"It will work, it must work, it shall work." came the throaty voice of a humanoid being hunched over a table. He wasn't actually human, one may not easily be able to tell due to the beige color of his skin, but the noticeably Orcish structure of his head coupled with his green eyes and admittedly sharp looking teeth would easily enforce that statement. But he was not simply an Orc, not in the farthest stretch of the imagination. He was an Uruk, similar to their Orcish cousins yet mightier in almost every regard.
He was clothed in red trousers held aloft by several brown belts and a large ring of black feathers and bones which covered his neck and shoulders. He also had thick looking metal gauntlets with several spikes protruding from them, but had foregone wearing his helmet which lay on the table. The helmet was odd, colored black with small wings sprouting from its sides. Lying next to the helmet was the source of his worry, a sketch of a complex looking symbol covered in runes and odd looking patterns.
"It will work, it must work, it has to work."
This Uruk had been repeating this particular phrase numerous times as he stood over the table, trying to ignore the thunderous voices of his kin coming from outside the small tent he was in. They were the voices of hundreds, no, thousands of Uruks who had all come to enjoy the spectacle, most likely expecting for him to lose his head before the day was over. He understood this assumption, the treat of death is what had him consistently reassuring himself that today would go according to his admittedly shaky plan.
As he repeated his own encouragements again, a set of footsteps caused him to cease lest one of his own discover him showing his fear. He turned to see his advisor, Dushrat, garbed in red armor and a fancy head piece taken from a noble human he'd slain in the past. Not much of Dushrat's face could be seen due to the helmet, but he could spot the Advisor's pointy ears poking out of two holes he'd carved into the side of it. Dushrat may appear to be quite large in the belly, but none would ever assume that fat meant weak when considering an Uruk's passion for power. Even the fattest of Uruk bodies were laced with powerful muscles, same goes for the smaller, thinner of their kind.
"Master Tugog," Dushrat spoke as he gestured towards one of the structure's exits "Hork has arrived."
Tugog swallowed nervously, despite trying to appear firm he knew Dushrat was already fully aware of his fear. By all means, he was aware that many Uruks knew he was truly terrified of the potential outcome of this event. That does not mean he would dare to admit it publicly, one does not become Warchief by showing his weaknesses so freely.
Nodding to Dushrat, Tugog turned and grabbed his helmet as he followed him out of the building near the wall where his axes hung. He retrieved them and slid both into straps on his back before covering his eyes at the sudden brightness of the outside. Before him was the all encompassing sight of the Black Gate, towering over the expanse of dirt ground which spread far from its base. Along the Gate was scaffolding which was usually filled with slaves reinforcing the mighty monument, yet today they were instead packed tightly with on-looking Uruks dressed in dark garbs.
There were several structures and tents dotted around the base of the Black Gate, but for better or worst the majority of the area nearby was wide and open ground which led to short stone cliffs which they often used slaves to mine through. They'd mined several paths through the stone to reach other strongholds or outposts easier, and had reduced them quite a lot in preparation for this day.
Instead of slaves chipping away at the stone however, there were even more Uruks tightly packed together calling for blood. Most of them wore red garbs of some fashion, showing their allegiance to Captains who served Tugog, yet their numbers and presence did nothing to settle his inner musings. The darker themed Uruks crowding the scaffolding and positions of the Black Gate served under Hork, a fellow Warchief who may or may not have Tugog's head mounted on a spike before the day was through. In addition to their forces there were a noteworthy number of Captains and Uruks who were not allied with either in attendance. They were the wilder sorts who served no Warchief, probably anticipated seeing a bloodbath once Tugog's little ritual failed.
Yes, they were all gathered to watch a ritual, Tugog's ritual to be more precise. He was not simply known as Warchief Tugog or Master Tugog by his followers. No, he was actually referred to as Tugog the Dreamer by his foes and allies alike. Rumors say it was a curse placed upon him by a wizard or elf of some type, but his dreams would always foreshadow events soon to come. Most of the time they were easy to interpret and he would use their information to overcome whatever battle he would soon involve himself in, but recently...
The chanting of the Uruks on the scaffolding of the Black Gate broke Tugog from his silent musings, they chanted in unison as the large form of their leader jumped down from the top of the gate and landed heavily on the top section of scaffolding. The massive Uruk stood a head taller than even Tugog, whose physique was not lacking, with a large torso of equal parts fat and muscle. As Hork rose two other Uruks jumped down after him, one with a helmet modeled after a Hell-Hawk's, and the other in full dark armor which covered him head to toe.
In comparison Hork dressed rather modestly, with his legs protected by greaves, his body protected by simple chain mail, his shoulders protected by light armor and his hands concealed by thick gloves . Besides his large appearance Hork's entire head reminded many of an egg what with its smooth slightly pointed round top, and his pointy ears which seemed similar to Dushrat's. But by far his most noticeable facial trait was his extremely unnoticeable nose. More of a slight protrusion than a tool for olfactory sense, Hork's nose was flat as could be.
And despite all these mockable traits, all knew better than to capitalize on them. Hork was the strictest Warchief currently in power, he had even less patience for incompetence than he had a nose. And yet somehow he had put enough faith into Tugog's dreams to aid him in setting up this ritual. It was more of a favor than anything else. Back when they were both simple soldiers in the Dark Lord's armies, Hork had been impressed with Tugog's apparent clairvoyance. Perhaps he had allowed the reputation of his dreams to precede them, for after mentioning the odd ritual he'd been seeing Hork had offered assistance.
But now, as he watched Hork slowly make his way down the scaffolding with his two highest ranking Bodyguards at his sides, Tugog knew he had asked for far too much. As his dreams portrayed more and more of the ritual's necessities the amount of resources being funneled into it had become ludicrous, yet he so feared the idea of wasting Hork's time that he refused to admit his waning faith in them. But of course, this only dug him further and further into this grave situation of his.
Now, lying in front of the Black Gate was the fruit of their labor. A freshly constructed stone floor built on the ground with a number of Tugog's underlings finishing the patterns and runes of the ritual using a red paste mainly fabricated from the remains of their slaves. The amount of stone, slaves, time and other ingredients which had been put into this ritual was insurmountable, requiring Hork to halt his reinforcement of the great Black Gate in order to follow through. This was believed to be Hork's greatest annoyance during this entire fiasco. As the Warchief whose forces occupy the Black Gate, the monument was his responsibility. If an attack crippled their forces because he was unable to properly reinforce it in time then...
Tugog walked past the large ritual site and stared up at the scaffolding just as Hork leaped down from another ladder. The larger Uruk walked to the edge of the scaffolding he had just jumped to and glared down at Tugog as he folded his arms.
"What a fine evening, Dreamer." Hork muttered "The smoke in the air, clouds grayed with ashes of cooked pinkskins, and the scent of blood tingling in my nostrils."
Dushrat gave a small cough at that word, but luckily remained silent enough for Tugog to respond "Indeed, glorious day to serve the Dark Lord's cause, my friend."
Hork narrowed his eyes a bit "This ritual of yours, you've built up quite the reward for aiding in the construction of it."
Tugog only nodded in affirmation "It has been quite bothersome lately to identify what I see, however I'm sure that what I've been made privy to will be a great asset to the dark lord if we recover it for him."
Hork looked away for a moment to run his beady eyes over the massive crowd of Uruks who wailed and roared in anticipation. As he did so a whelp of an Uruk scampered over to Dushrat and whispered into his pointy ear. Dushrat nodded and spoke back for a moment before sending the whelp off and turning back to his master.
"Tugog," he drew the Dreamer's attention "the ritual is ready, we'll have the Shaman in position soon."
Tugog nodded and glanced back up at Hork, attempting to smile confidently "Hear that? Soon enough we'll be delivering our services to the Dark Lord tenfold."
Hork grumbled an affirmative and the Dreamer turned to step away when-
"Wouldn't you rather join me up here? Its much less..." Hork paused to look over the wild masses which had gathered at the foot of his charge "unsavory."
Tugog knew for a fact Hork just wanted him within decapitating range should the very likely possibility of the ritual failing occur. Yet he also knew that turning down the offer would make his fear that much more obvious, which is why he ended up watching from the upper scaffolding with Hork's massive figure standing next to him. Below they watched as an Uruk obscured by robes stepped forward and began reciting the loose terms Tugog had picked up in his dreams.
The chants of the spectators grew quieter as the shaman worked his way through the ritual, curiosity temporarily overwhelming the bloodlust.
"Has the true usage of this...tool, made itself clear to you?" Hork asked without taking his eyes off the shaman
Tugog took a steady breath "No, I have seen our Dark lord wielding it and overwhelming our enemies with it, but I suppose the exact how is what we shall discover once its in our possession."
Hork gave a small harrumph in response as the Shaman finally completed the ritual by stepping back from the markings and having a nearby Uruk set fire to them. The fire traveled along the red paste due to the flammable elements taken from their supply of grog, which had led to outcry from Tugog's forces. Soon the entire ritual pyre was ablaze, and the Uruks watched on waiting for it to run its course. As time went on Tugog's worries grew, he kept glancing to Hork's unimpressed face and blocked out the growing grumbles which came from the Uruks stationed in the scaffolding. Even below he could see the rest of the assembled crowd begin murmuring towards each other as the flames reached a crescendo and began dying down.
The red paste which had been used to draw up the pattern had burned and melted in a manner reminiscent to wax, leaving a large puddle of red covering the stone floor. The bubbling fluid eventually settled as well, leaving only the growing cries of outrage to draw attention.
It hadn't worked...
Tugog could feel the sweat running down across his face. Slowly he turned to glance up at Hork's face, and could just barely hold back his excuses as the larger Warchief turned to glare down at him.
"Is that it?" Hork asked with the subtle hints of barely restrained fury lacing their way through his words
"Perhaps..." Tugog swallowed nervously "w-we may have miscalculated the amount of slaves we'd-"
"No." Hork interrupted as he turned towards Tugog, his frown was just barely capable of turning into a snarl if the sharp twitches of muscles at the sides were any indication "You said that the ingredients were exactly as you foretold them to be."
"But I-"
"Silence!" Hork bellowed, causing the unimpressed Uruk masses to cease their grumblings and let their attention be drawn to the two Warchiefs on the scaffolding "We have spent months toiling away with the specifics of this worthless ritual of yours. How many slaves did we go through to get that damned concoction correct? How many feasts have your Captains had to forego because of you wasting their grog on it? How much work do you think we have fallen behind on due to your idiocy!?"
"But I saw-!"
"You saw nothing but lies!"
The Uruks turned to each other as they watched the escalating situation, there disappointment at seeing all that effort go up in smoke replaced by the need to see retribution being put forth. And the forces who already came expecting it only readied themselves for a proper fight. The groans and complaints immediately turned to cries for merciless bloodshed as Tugog backed away from the increasingly infuriated wall of flesh that was Hork.
As the situation escalated, an unallied Captain watched as both Tugog and Hork's forces gripped tightly at the handles of their weapons. He glanced to his own forces and saw how ready they were for a good show, but from his position he also spotted something happening to the puddle of red left behind by the ritual.
He climbed down from his perch atop a crate and meandered over to the ritual site while the masses focused on the two Warchiefs drawing their weapons on each other.
"A better site perhaps?!" Tugog offered desperately as he watched Hork draw two ranger swords from his back, trophies taken from fallen foes no doubt.
"Perhaps you should adopt a fitting stance!" Hork pointed the tip of one sword at him "Wouldn't want you to die a complete failure right, friend?"
The unallied Captain stood watching the red puddle bubble a bit, and called one of his Uruks over. Disgruntled at being interrupted while viewing the spectacle, the underling looked a bit put off by the order before his Captain barked at him to hurry up or else. With a grumble the lesser Uruk stomped over to his Captain, who nodded in approval and grabbed his arm before experimentally shoving it into the puddle.
Almost immediately the underling let out a scream of surprise as the puddle reacted quickly, and the Warchief duel was interrupted as the vision of all those in attendance suddenly went red.
Week One...
A deep, throaty cough tore out of his mouth, drawing the attention of two Uruks nearby. They came quickly, crowding around the massive form as his eyes shifted underneath their lids.
"Do you think he's recovered?"
"By the Dark Lord I hope not, he's so much less threatening when he's confined to a bed like this."
Before they could descend any further into that line of talking, a third Uruk in darker attire entered the room "I heard the Master's voice, what is- Oi! What are you two doing so close to him?!"
"We heard him groan and saw him moving about, so we just-"
"What you did was sit around my master hoping he would die so your coward of a leader could take his belongings."
"...I mean, I wouldn't exactly put it like that. It was mostly hoping he'd stay comatose or something of the sort-"
"All of you silence yourselves." A stern, but weathered voice spoke. All eyes turned to the massive figure of Hork as it slowly rose from the tattered bed they had procured for him.
"Master!" the third voice called out as he shoved the other two away from the bed and kneeled at its side, lowering his head in respect.
Hork rose, letting his two trunk-like legs plant themselves at the foot of his bed before slowly rising to his full height and placing a hand to his pained head. His eyes ran over the forms of the three others sharing the room with him, immediately recognizing them.
"Dharg," he spoke to the one kneeling at his feet "why have you let Tugog's whelps keep watch over me whilst I was unconscious?"
His eyes shifted to the two others, who flinched from his gaze immediately. Dharg lifted his gaze slightly to glare at the two before answering "As a sign of no ill-will, Tugog has been attempting to merge resources with us and-"
"Unacceptable," his Master interrupted before a thick finger pointed at the two others "You two exit this quarters immediately lest I have Dharg here scalp the both of you for intrusion."
"But our master said-"
"Make me repeat myself, worm, and your eyes will join your scalps."
Taking the hint, the two immediately made haste out of the room leaving Dharg the Hell-Hawk with his master. There was a long silence after that as Dharg waited for Hork to speak, yet he simply stared at the door the two had left through with bitter eyes.
"How long was I incapacitated?"
Dharg lowered his head a bit "For nearly a week sir-"
Hork scowled at the news.
"But fear not, Pigug and I have taken precaution to keep our forces in check during your resting."
Hork grumbled a bit before lumbering over to the walls of the room and running a large hand over it "So... I suppose that weakling's little ritual worked?"
He did not receive an immediate answer, instead Dharg just stood and gestured to the door "I believe it would be easier to show you, Master."
Hork turned to look at him with a confused glance before nodding, as the two exited the room Dharg grabbed his helmet from another Uruk who waited outside the door.
"This is not my stronghold." Hork commented as they walked through sandy stone halls, halls which looked as if they'd been weathered down by age and abuse but still stood strong against the elements. There were large cracks here and there which let long gashes of intense sunlight to bleed in. Hork would never allow the Black Gate to ever become so weathered, replacing old stone with new stone in structurally weakened areas was just reasonable. Even though this meant his forces had little time to work on his actual stronghold, Hork had understood from the get go that the Black Gate would always be of higher priority to the Dark Lord. He would have to check to make sure his underlings had kept things up to par in his absence.
"Where are we?" Hork asked as he realized this didn't look like any of the strongholds nearby.
Dharg chose not to meet his Master's gaze as they descended a spiral staircase made of the same sandy stone "After the ritual activated it... it took most of the Uruks who were in attendance if not all of them. We awoke in what appeared to be a desert Master." Dharg kept speaking even as he watched his Master's eyes widen in what could only be disgust "After some searching this was the closest fortifiable location we could find. We did not even know of its importance until we started capturing them."
"Capturing who? Tarks? Are there villages nearby? " Hork demanded information, the idea of being so far away from his charge enough was alone to set fire to the rage which had been dampened by whatever head injury he had suffered. He needed to know where they were, how that ritual had sent them there, and how quick he could mobilize their forces and return them to where they were needed by the Dark Lord. Moving Uruks this far, if it weren't for the incredibly infuriating inconvenience it provided he may have actually planned on congratulating Tugog for discovering such a useful tool. But to take two Warchiefs worth of forces, not even including the number of unaligned Captains in attendance provided an exploitable weakness in their defenses.
"No and yes, there were Tarks yes but... they were not as we expected them to be."
Just as he said that they came across a group of slaves attempting to reinforce a particularly weak stone wall as one of Hork's lesser Uruks stood watch. Hork had actually expected to see more slaves working on this structure, if there were small numbers of them then it would make reinforcing against potential attack an issue. Before he could bring it up to Dharg he noticed something off about several of the slaves, they had been dressed in near rags and had been shaved as per usual. However, atop several heads were what appeared to be the ears of beasts. A Hare's ears there, a wolf's ears there, two others with other random extra assets which Hork was damn sure were not supposed to be on filthy pinkskins.
"You say I was only out for a week." Hork muttered as he watched an Uruk kick a slave for dropping several boards, eyes glued to the alien sight of humans with beast parts.
Dharg nodded "Correct Master."
Hork turned to him with a look of strict determination, "Tell me all you know of where that damn Ritual sent us."
"He has awoken." Dushrat said as he folded his arms across his large chest
Tugog turned from his chair to regard him for a moment from within the confines of his oddly proportioned mask. He gave his advisor a look of disbelief before immediately rising from his chair and grabbing hold of him.
"Is it true?" Tugog implored "Has Hork really returned to consciousness?"
Dushrat nodded, and Tugog only looked on for a mere moment before turning and hastily making his way to the flaps of his tent. Outside was a large desert which ended at the foot of a line of cliffs, built into one of those cliffs was an old castle-like tower which ran up the side and even above the cliffs themselves. The more structurally educated among them surmised that it may have once stood even taller. All around the tower were now hundreds of tents, with large numbers of Uruks moving about doing various tasks.
There were some groups of slaves being shepherded around by the brutish Great Orcs, but nowhere near the amount one would typically see at a gathering of this many. Tugog wove through the crowds, receiving scornful looks from Hork's forces and humored looks from his own. As he walked, two familiar figures took note of his hurried state and rushed to catch up to him.
"There have been rumors that Hork has finally awoken." the thinner, smaller of the two spoke in a voice as dry as his appearance would lead one to believe "I suppose you are going to prove whether these rumors are true or false?"
The meatier, larger of the two raised his weapon as he spoke "Blood-Axe said it was true, said Horker's been having a fit over something or other."
Tugog swallowed at that little revelation, but kept his speed up as he pushed open the lower doors of the castle and began making his way through considerably less crowded halls and up several sets of stairs. His two Underlings followed behind, but eventually his lack of response led them to turn on each other instead.
"Blood-Axe also heard this one stupid shrakh mention-"
"Enough of your deliriums, you soft-headed fool." the other interrupted "If you wish to provide proper information then I suggest offering something which you haven't fabricated in that broken mind of yours."
The taller one just held his weapon to his ear "Hm, your right about that. Doesn't really sound like Ishga trusts you much eh?"
"Don't you dare attempt to speak ill of me in my presence you insolent cur!" Ishga stabbed a finger towards him.
Finally the trio made their way up the tower to where it connected to the top of the cliff. The very top spilled onto the Cliffside, so much so that if one were to approach from the cliffside they would assume the very top was all there was to it. This cliffside section of the castle even had the remains of a moat which had long been filled over with sand, a broken drawbridge which led out on the Cliffside and a courtyard. In all honesty, this entire section would easily be classified as a castle all on its own. They would not be stopping at the courtyard, but passed by an open doorway on their way to the last flight of stairs.
Tugog glanced out to see large numbers of Uruks with black war paint covering their exposed skin, many following the instruction of a familiar heavily armored Uruk wielding a massive blade. Even with his back turned Tugog knew he did not want another altercation with this particular Captain. He noticeably hurried past the doorway as the Captain seemed to notice eyes on him and turned to investigate, only to catch the heel of an Uruk exiting his vision. This Captain squinted within the confines of his helmet.
Tugog finally came across what he knew to be the upper dining hall, where whoever had built this structure would probably hold their fanciest of assemblies. He readied himself as he stood at the door, and just barely opened it when he heard the roar.
"AND THEY JUST LEFT?!"
Almost immediately Tugog knew of the owner of that roar and could even guess at what his roar was about.
As he stepped inside he saw Dharg trying to maintain a look of infallibility even as the massive form of Hork paced back and forth beside him.
Tugog announced his presence with a cough, Hork's infuriated gaze immediately shot towards him as a growl made its way out of his lips.
"You." Hork lumbered over as a hand went to the handle of one of the swords strapped to his back "I want genuine reasons why I should not gut you and throw your corpse from that window at this very moment."
Tugog raised his hands in an attempt to appease Hork's anger "Listen, I know not what you've been told but-"
"I've heard from at least three of my Captains that your damned ritual dragged us from the foot of the Black Gate to this realm, all of us! Do you know what a loss of numbers like that could do to the Dark Lord's cause if not remedied immediately!?"
"Blood-Axe says that it isn't good, so-" Tugog's heavy set-supporter supplied even as the smaller one jabbed him in the gut
"And this place, this Remnant as those pinkskin hybrids so adamantly claim, is completely infested with witchery!" Hork drew one sword and leveled it with Tugog's head "I've apparently lost two of my finest captains to these dark beasts which roam the lands and the trinkets Dharg speaks of which the humans use."
He nodded to one of such trinkets which had been lain along the battered dining table "You said that Ritual would bring us the greatest Tool we could ever offer the Dark Lord, and while acquiring a way to move a sizeable force great distances it just so happened to leave the Black Gate and its surrounding areas severely undefended!"
"But it still worked!" Tugog said firmly "All we need to do is figure out how to reverse the effect and we can return to study how to better use this to our Dark Lord's advantage. Even so this realm offers so many possibilities, my friend-"
"Say that one more time and I promise... promise you you'll never say anything again." Hork hissed through gritted teeth "We were unprepared for an exodus of such a level, these slaves can only provide us with so much information. There are too many things which we do not know about which could prove significant threat! These dark beasts, the sorcery which is said to affect nearly all the pinkskins in the land, and those warrior Huntsmen they speak of. On top of all that to process, I recently discover that you also allowed that filthy rat Bubol to talk several dozen unaligned captains into just wandering off with all of their forces!"
Tugog swallowed "They were about to start infighting, getting rid of them seemed the most logical course of action."
"If that diseased rodent of an Uruk wished them to be gone from us I can assure you it only means he wishes to turn them against us, not to mention what the Storm could be up to." Hork hissed before narrowing his eyes even more "I hear you kept Pigug from administering justice to the more volatile forces."
"Executing their captains would only provoke-"
"No, it would've shown them who holds the power here." Hork stated vehemently as he lowered his sword and instead towered over Tugog "You were always so weak-willed Dreamer, not even your clairvoyance could erase that, this is why your captains walk all over you. Why everyone's just waiting for the Shaman to make a play."
Tugog held his tongue as Hork took a deep breath and turned to the table before him and placed his hands upon it with a grumble. On the table was a map of the new world they had found themselves in, or at least what they could acquire from the recently captured slaves. Tugog caught Hork's eye as he turned from the map and watched as Hork straightened and spoke evenly.
"We'll need more."
Tugog glanced at his two captains before imploring "More what?"
Hork glared back at him "If we are to make it in this new realm your idiocy has dragged us into, we're going to need much more information."
Week Three...
The last of the creatures fell under the barrage of quick slashes and occasional arrows, writhing about and angrily nursing his wounds as the huntress approached and quickly pinned him down with the heel of her shoe. She was still sweating, the initial shock of seeing these strange beings having mixed in with the panic she'd felt as they immediately attacked her. Yet it had slowly decreased as she realized that, with her skill, they were manageable. The rest were left in similar incapacitated states all around the small clearing in the woods that she had found them in.
It was supposed to be a simple job, clearing up a new Beowolf den which had been recently established by an alpha. After finding the den already cleared out, she quickly found the culprits. And though they had called themselves Uruks while fighting her, calling her derogatory terms she didn't think even existed in Remnant, she still had far too many questions.
The Uruk she was currently stepping on had shown more battle ferocity than the others, and had shouted orders at them several times during the fight to try and outmaneuver her. They were pretty bad orders, but it still labeled him as someone with authority.
"What...are you?" she asked as she aimed her wrist mounted crossbow at him
He groaned and lifted his head up to grumble at her "We's the greater Orcs you spindly little tark, thoughts we made 'at all clear for ya, now get offa me so I's can ram that little bow of yours up yer arse!"
The only thing she knew about Orcs was from those fantasy stories her old man used to read her as a kid, and as she thought more about it she did notice similarities between the beings she'd just beaten down and the fantasy creatures she'd pictured. But that still didn't answer the many questions she had brewing in her head, each and every potential answer would probably just spawn hundreds more.
"W-Why are you here?" she asked, fearing if she paused for too long he might try to escape
The Uruk gave a throaty chuckle as he raised a hand and gestured at the nearby entrance to the cleared out Grimm cave "He said we'd just need to wait near 'at over there, and then one a you lot woul' show your pathetic pinkflesh around here."
Again with the foreign derogatory terms... wait
"So you weren't the ones who cleared out that den?" she asked
He nodded with a nasally chortle "Nah, just supposed to greet ya the Uruk way."
Having them wait for her just to attack her? They weren't much of a threat, but what if whoever sent them knew that? If they did then that would make them a-
The Huntress immediately lunged to the side as an arrow sped at her, she immediately searched for the shooter, only to find the thick branches of the surrounding wilderness obscuring her vision.
"Aw, damn it!" a voice called out, a voice which sounded all too happy to truly be angry, a voice which seemed enthusiastic that its sly attack had been avoided "Looks like she figured it out eh?"
Even from there the huntress could tell he wasn't talking to her, she watched as leaves rustled and immediately raised her wrist-mounted crossbow. But before she could fire the voice spoke up again, "Oh well, I brought you along for a reason my boy! Have at her!"
Immediately a blur dropped down from the tree and sped towards her, she raised her weapon and steadied it before firing at the blur only for it to maneuver its way between her shots as it closed the distance.
Elsewhere...
"...Orcs..."
Winter glared at the two soldiers with a look of annoyed confusion, they glanced at each other for only a moment before looking back at her and nodding simultaneously. Winter looked down at the map on the table before her for a moment as she processed the information they had just given her.
"You mean... like from those Fantasy films?"
"Yes," one answered before raising a finger "exactly like that only in real life."
Winter held his gaze for a moment before turning to his partner "Did he suffer some form of head injury within the recent few days?"
"No ma'am, he's just naturally idiotic." his partner answered immediately, prompting the solider to glare at him.
"What else would you call those things then?!" he implored as he folded his arms over his chest "Its nearly point for point!"
"They call themselves Uruks, ma'am." his partner ignored the jab and turned back to their superior "At least, that's what we could get from the few we managed to subdue."
"Yeah, and they themselves said that Uruk can be interpreted as Greater Orc!" the soldier insisted before groaning and looking back at Winter "Ma'am, trust me, all you'd need to do is see them to completely understand where I'm coming from."
Winter looked between the two before looking back down at the map for a while and sighing. She stood straight and stepped away from the table, moving towards the flap of the large tent they had been conversing in. The two Atlesian soldiers quickly followed behind her as she exited. The camp the tent was situated in was full of Atlesian Knights and soldiers, moving between tents or arming up. There were several SDC employees being treated at their medical tent, others being questioned by Atlas personnel.
In the distance she could see smoke still rising from the Dust-Quarry.
"How long has this been happening exactly?" Winter asked as she walked through the camp
"They attacked Monday evening," the partner said as he removed his helmet "no signal or anything. They just came down the slopes and overwhelmed the initial security teams with the element of surprise."
"But you say they didn't attack with any heavy weaponry?" Winter asked as she stepped out of the way of two soldiers carrying a third who seemed wounded "How is it that regular swords and crossbows are holding back the Atlesian response teams?"
"At first we started making good headway." the other soldier said before gesturing to his partner "Nyl and I were in there three days ago, seemed we had the advantage until they started using dust."
This drew Winter's attention "They're using the dust?"
"Yeah," Nyl answered "archers started dipping their arrows in the stuff, can blast a whole squad of AK-Units apart. Even saw some of them take down a Paladin some time ago. The only places not covered by their archers are too volatile to contest them at, a stray round from either side could make half of the quarry ignite."
"Which is too costly to allow." Winter said with a small sigh "So what exactly are their goals here?"
"Dunno, they mostly seem to be forcing their hostages to keep mining dust. If we knew of a place they could safely move it without being spotted by our perimeter guard then I'd say that was their goal. But so far they just seem to be storing it."
"They probably just wanted to destroy stuff, we all know how the Orcs-"
"Uruks."
"-Orcs from the stories! *Ahem* were mostly savage murderers."
"But if that were true for these guys then why haven't they just executed all their hostages?"
"Because they can use them to get dust, which helps them kill easier!"
"That seems to be quite smart for what you claim to be savages."
"Quiet!" Winter interrupted the two as they reached the edge of the camp "If we take out those archers, do we have a chance of pushing through their guard?"
"It would be much easier ma'am, but we have no idea if they've started laying traps down, or if they've been stealing the weapons of fallen soldiers to use or-"
"Has anyone been shot with an actual dust round?" Winter interrupted
"Well, no but-"
"Then odds are they aren't using whatever weapons they find, worst case scenario they're just hoarding them somewhere so we can't reacquire them." Winter said as she finally spotted a line of Atlesian Knights and soldiers aiming weapons towards the blown apart gate which was once the main entrance to the quarry. Beyond she could see splatters of what she could only assume was Uruk blood, amongst several destroyed mining vehicles and toppled equipment. Surrounding the quarry were the slopes the Uruks had apparently used during the attack.
"Is this the only easy exit from the quarry?" Winter asked
"No, we have teams at the other two exits as well, if they want out then they'll have to sacrifice too many of their forces to make a push."
"Hm," Winter said before turning to Nyl's partner "Seems a bit too cautious for savages, correct?"
He fumed, but knew his place well enough not to argue with her.
"Take down the explosive archers, identify potential traps, identify their commanders and capture one if possible." Winter listed off several objectives
"Their commanders?"
"An attack this coordinated must have been planned by somebody, capturing one of them would provide information in further potential conflicts with them." Winter stated before glaring at the entrance "Besides..."
"I want to know what they came here for."
Inside the Quarry...
Two larger Uruks watched on as an archer slowly dipped each of his arrows into a tube of red dust before carefully sliding them into a quiver, one wielding a shield and large spear while the other wielded a sheathed sword.
"Hey." the shield-bearer spoke up
The warrior turned to regard him "What?"
The original speaker lowered his spear for a moment "Why we here?"
"We're defendin' this puny bastard while he resupplies." his partner said as he turned back to keep watch on the surrounding area
"No but, why we defend whelp? Not help with battle?"
The Uruk Warrior sighed "Because-"
"Because if I'm attacked without my quiver complete then we lose a valuable asset on the battlefield!" The Archer croaked out with his nasally voice
The Warrior immediately turned on him "I was gonna say it's because boss don't want another one of you dumb globs dropping another vial of blasting powder and blowing ya'selves up!"
"Ha! Unlike my foolish brothers I happen to be smarter than the lot of you worthless curs." the Archer explained before running his leathery hand along his crossbow "The accuracy needed to properly wield this weapon is beyond meat-headed fools like yourselves."
"If you so accurate," the Shield Bearer tilted his head to the side "why you waste whole quiver on six metal men?"
The warrior laughed "Ah that's right! Couldn't hit the broadside of a steel wall, he couldn't! In fact, why's he even an archer anyway instead of swinging around a club?"
"I was, uh, I was feeling them out yes!" the archer choked out a retort before standing and folding his arms "Imbecilic creatures like yourselves would never understand the true art of ranged weaponry!"
"Wait... you feeling up metal man?" the Shield bearer asked
"What? No I-!"
"That's right mate," the Warrior interjected "got 'imself a good feel of them steel tark thingies he did."
"Wow," Winter interjected "you guys actually do resemble Orcs."
The Archer and the Warrior froze as the Shield Bearer turned to spot the Specialist standing not that far behind him "No, we Uruk white lady." he corrected before turning back to his companions "So why Archer feeling up metal man?"
The Warrior jerked back as the Archer screamed "Its one of them filthy tarks you stupid glob!"
The Shield-Bearer tilted his head to the side in confusion for a while before the dusty wheels in his head finally started turning, he immediately gripped his spear and swung it back only for Winter to leap over it and dart past him towards the warrior who grabbed the hilt of his blade and began sliding it out. The archer grabbed his partially filled quiver then jumped back before loading his weapon and trying to take aim. Before the warrior could draw his blade Winter planted her foot on his chest and kicked him down before ducking out of the way of another spear swing.
She moved behind the rising warrior and grabbed hold of him with her blade to his neck "Alright, I suggest you drop your-"
"I got her!" The Shield Bearer roared before going into a full charge immediately causing the Warrior to wave for him to stop.
"Wait! No you imbecile don't you-!"
Winter released the warrior and backed out of the way as the Shield-Bearer impaled his comrade on his spear. Confused at the lack of Tark corpse on his spear, the Shield Bearer lifted his weapon to regard the struggling and cursing Uruk on it with a look of dismay.
"Huh, why no white lady on there?" The Shield Bearer asked the Warrior
"By the Dark Lord! Get me offa this thing you useless shrakh!"
Winter quirked an eyebrow as she watched the shield-bearer try to shake his partner off his spear unsuccessfully.
"Freeze!" a nasally voice caused her to turn to the archer who finally had her in his sights "Ha! Shouldn't have let those two fools distract you from the real threat!"
Winter tilted her head to the side and got into a ready position as the archer lined up his dust tinted arrow and fired.
The arrow impacted against the shoulder of the Uruk warrior and immediately set him and the top half of the Shield-Bearer's spear alight. The Uruk warrior began screaming even louder profanities now directed towards the Archer instead of the Shield Barer who seemed stunned by the sudden appearance of fire on his weapon.
"Huh? Oh, archer can hit stuff." the Shield-Bearer pointed out before smiling up at the burning Warrior "Guess you wrong, huh?"
"Find me some water ya damned fool!"
Winter turned back to the archer and raised an eyebrow, he coughed a bit "Just... *Ahem* getting a feel for-"
Winter strode forward, grabbed the smaller being by the head and threw him back towards the shield bearer, who barely seemed to notice the archer impacting with his body.
"Enough!" the Archer said as he scrambled to his feet "I will not be outdone by a female pinkskin!"
He gestured to the Shield-Bearer "Put that charred heap down and charge her while I provide cover!"
The shield barer shrugged before whipping the Warrior's thoroughly charred corpse off his weapon and pointing it towards Winter again. The Atlas Specialist just rolled her eyes, already thoroughly disappointed by them and by extension those they managed to hold back for the last week or so. He lumbered forward and thrust his spear at her only for her to slip under the attack and drag her own blade along his shoulder before jumping back out of the way of a retaliatory strike. As he turned to face her Winter watched an explosion happen several yards to her side and heard that Archer Uruk curse to himself as he reloaded.
The shield bearer came at her again this time swinging his shield at her only for her to move along with his swing and give him several long cuts along the back, he stumbled for a moment as she stood and pointed her sword at him. She heard an "Aha!" before another arrow came whizzing by her and set the Shield-Bearer on fire. As the larger Uruk began flailing and running around wildly trying to put himself out, Winter could only turn and glare at the Archer who could only stare equally dumbfounded at his own incompetence.
"Now that last one was shrakh!" he griped before angrily loading another arrow "You ain't even moving for Sauron's sakes!"
Winter just rolled her eyes and gestured with her blade as the burning shield-barer stumbled towards her, a glyph appeared before him. Once stepped on, it launched the flaming Uruk right over her.
The archer could only let his eyes grow large at the mass of burning flesh coming towards him and uttered a dejected "Oh." before he was crushed under it. Winter stood straight and gave a small scowl at the pile of burning Uruk before turning and making her way towards a nearby watch tower, these things had managed to withstand Atlas forces for nearly a week? They barely acted competent enough for regular law enforcement. Winter chided herself, reminding herself that even the most lackluster of soldiers could be transformed into a threat under proper management. She could only assume that those in charge of this take over were far beyond their kin in terms of intelligence, in fact she hoped that was the case. If not, then she would have to put in a call for the Atlesian military to have a complete overhaul in terms of training, because this was ridiculous.
To give them credit where credit was due, the Uruk forces were much more competent as she wiped out their Archer positions one by one, she listened to battle reports coming in from the few other Atlas Specialists who were also depriving the enemy of their armaments. Perhaps that first trio were simply ineffective compared to their comrades, who put up much more of a fight despite being no match for trained specialists like them. Free hostages, fight Uruks, take out their archers, it was easy but slow moving due to the sheer number of Uruks within the quarry. Winter had been warned of their numbers, but hadn't expected this many. They had an entire small army crawling around this place, making their individual weaknesses seem less exploitable.
But she noticed that as she went about taking down their defenses that the numbers of Uruks decreased. It wasn't just the ones she was killing either it was that the Archers were less defended as time went on. Some watchtowers and strategic locations were simply empty and the hostages had been dragged deeper into the quarry towards the entrance of a large mine that ran down along a dust vein. She could assume that they were planning on refortifying that location solely with most of their forces since their spread out archer posts proved easy pickings for specialists like herself.
After hearing that the Atlesian military broke through the front line of Uruk Defenses, Winter figured she may as well start looking for one of their commanders. Which led her to a dirt hill overlooking the entrance to the mine, at its sides were two Watchtowers. Leading from the watchtowers were several electrical cables that connected to what seemed to be generators.
In front of the gate were a mass of Uruks all herding hostages and containers of dust into the bowels of the mine. But her focus was instead drawn to three peculiar Uruks which stood apart from the rest, one average looking Uruk who wore armor made of bones, a slightly larger Uruk with thick armor covering his torso and one even chunkier Uruk who looked as though he had flames bursting from his candle-like helmet. The design looked odd enough, yet even more odd were the fiery axes strapped to his back which seemed to cause him no discomfort despite burning with intensity. The other two Uruks seemed to be arguing with the fiery one, who seemed to stubbornly object to whatever they said.
Satisfied with identifying what looked like the final stand of the Uruks and what could be considered their higher soldiers, Winter prepared to contact her team when a familiar whistling sound reached her ears and forced her to her feet immediately. She leaped away just as explosive arrows riddled her previous location, bracing herself on a glyph she summoned beneath her before leaping away as that too was soon bombarded by arrows. They were coming from up above, yet the only elevated position which she could spot which provided that kind of angle on her position were the cliffs surrounding the quarry. She could only ponder on the location of the archer for a moment before remembering that the attack had driven her into the open.
"Hey!" she turned to see the Candle-Top Uruk pull his flaming axes from his back "You mess up my boys! I cook your face and wear it on chest, nice clothing for war! Show all what happen to those who mess with my boys!"
The other Uruk leaders didn't seem to share his enthusiasm, as the one in the bone armor immediately yelled "Kruk, are you or are you not the daftest sod in all the lands? Call back your Uruks and help us defend!"
He looked like he was about to say more when the third Uruk in heavy armor halted him "Just-let-him-have-this." he said in what may have been the slowest speech pattern Winter had ever heard in her life "Never-enough-meat-shields. We'll-go."
With that the heavily-armored Uruk turned and jogged towards the mine entrance, the bone-armored Uruk glanced back for a moment before scampering after him. Kruk held her gaze with a smug look that didn't seem to fit an individual with his type of vocabulary. Despite his obvious lack of intelligence in comparison to the other two leaders, the fact that he was ranked higher than the majority of Uruks meant he should at least be more powerful on average.
And the other regular Uruks around them didn't seem keen on helping him, as many were still fleeing the battles occurring elsewhere in the quarry. The sounds of battle in the distance convinced Winter that that was not the case for all of them, perhaps Kruk's soldiers putting up stubborn resistance. She spotted an archer ascending one of the watchtowers near the mine entrance and stood firm as Kruk charged.
He swung his axes faster than the regular Uruks, that was for sure, but Winter dodged them with ease and managed to retaliate effectively as he reared for a follow-up. Kruk stumbled back, looking a bit miffed that his first attack was countered. He stood straight and let out a roar before leaping towards her, Winter side stepped as he raked both Axes through the ground and brought her blade across his torso only for an unexpectedly familiar flash of light to dull the attack. Though he seemed agitated by another failed attack, his body showed no sign of the cuts which appeared on those of the other Uruks she'd fought today. Was that... an Aura?
She had little time to mull over that thought as Kruk seemed through with her constant dodging of his attacks, he raised an axe and bellowed "Douse me!" Winter wondered what he implied by that until the archer in the watchtower took out a pouch of liquid and lobbed it onto Kruk. It burst and covered his upper torso in a foul smelling fluid, but the Uruk leader smirked before bringing one of his flaming axes towards his drenched flesh. Almost immediately the top half of his body was engulfed in an inferno, but he just bellowed out a chuckle before charging her yet again with almost no care for the flames covering nearly every bit of his exposed skin.
This time Winter had to give Kruk a wide berth, preparing a glyph right before another arrow came whizzing at her from the side. Rolling under it she pointed her sword towards the Uruk Archer intending on dealing with him quickly, but was halted when she had to dodge another arrow coming from a completely different direction. Whoever these unseen archers were outclassed most of the ones she'd fought earlier, and she was unable to pin one down because of the seemingly random directions they attacked from.
Her attention was recaptured as Kruk charged her again swinging his flaming weapons and arms towards her with a garbled grunt, she managed to roll back out of the way, letting the flaming Uruk ram into one of the generators. Soon he let out a chorus of screams as the wiring of the generator melted and he started jerking as electricity coursed through his veins. Yet once the generator eventually short-circuited and went dead the large Uruk stumbled away looking drastically drained, even his flames died down as he struggled to catch his breath after such a momentous amount of damage was given to what Winter could only label as his aura.
Seeing the other few generators still functional, Winter formed a plan. She lunged at the startled Uruk and slashed at him in his dazed state, using her Glyphs to attack whichever side he left undefended as soon as he covered one. She did this until she spotted another Arrow coming from behind Kruk, she leaped backwards away from him but the arrow passed right through the crook of his arm and stayed on trajectory with her, prompting her to roll to the side as the arrow instead pierced a generator behind her and caused it to explode. She placed a rune at her feet to keep from being blown away by the force of the explosion, glancing up just in time to see another flammable pouch impact against Kruk's body. He set himself ablaze and charged her with more ferocity this time, spurred on by the series of seemingly random arrows which seemed to provide him with covering fire.
Winter struggled a bit more with this one, and so quickly placed a summoning Glyph on the ground before leaping out of the way of more flaming axe swings. Kruk went to follow back after her but was held back by a sudden claw which dug into his back, he turned to see a large white Beowolf gripping onto him. It leaped onto the flaming Uruk and dragged him to the ground, as the two fought Winter avoided another series of arrows this time seeming to come from above. Prioritizing, she turned to the Uruk Archer who had been supplying Kruk with flammable liquid to ignite himself with.
As she took off running towards the watchtower he seemed to notice her intentions and dropped the pouches to grab his crossbow, loading and firing it at the incoming Schnee. Winter leaped over it onto another glyph which launched her towards the Watchtower, the archer brought up his bow again only to attempt to block the incoming slash of her blade. She cut straight through the wooden crossbow and slashed at the archer, the force throwing him out of the watchtower. As he plummeted to the ground, Winter turned to see how well her Beowolf was faring against Kruk only to spot another series of arrows speeding towards her. She quickly summoned a glyph to propel herself from the watchtower as the arrows pierced the pouches of flammable liquid.
The Watchtower exploded, pieces of it flying to and fro as the burning husk lost balance and tumbled to the ground in front of the mine entrance. Winter landed on the ground nearby and looked up just to see Kruk wrap his arm around one of her beowolf's arms and repeatedly slam his axe into its head as it swiped at him with his free arm. Already familiar with the formula, Winter rolled forward out of the way of several more arrows and darted towards the distracted Kruk. The large Uruk yanked the Beowolf away from him after getting sufficiently agitated with its swipes, sending it stumbling towards Winter a bit as it struggled to gain purchase. Instead it was blasted apart by arrows, falling apart into white smoke with a flash of light as it was overwhelmed by the barrage.
Winter had taken pause to avoid getting caught in the explosion, and looked up just in time to see Kruk leap through the smoke at her whilst still burning. Lunging under his axe swing Winter summoned a quick glyph which Kruk's momentum carried him onto, flinging him towards yet another generator. Apparently having learned his lesson from last time, Kruk turned and swung an axe down as he approached the generator. It cleaved into the ground and ceased his momentum before the previous scene could reenact itself.
However, Winter created a much smaller glyph as the Uruk pulled himself to his feet, and soon a small white nevermore flew from the glyph and soared above before slicing through the electrical cables above. Kruk glared at her and prepared another lunge when said electrical wires collapsed upon his body and electrocuted him once again. Winter prepared to dodge out of the way of more arrows, only to find none speeding towards her, instead...
"Miss Schnee!" came the call of one of the Atlesian troops who came running towards her, behind them a squad of Atlesian Knights who immediately went about securing the area. The sounds of battle previously coming from the rest of the Quarry had diminished greatly. As she took a breath, she stood tall and turned back to see Kruk collapse to his knees as he tried unsuccessfully to recover from his most recent electrocution.
"The majority of the Quarry has been secured, ma'am." one of the Soldiers said as the rest aimed their guns at the dazed Uruk "Stragglers are being repressed as we speak."
Winter gestured to the mine "Most of their forces seemed to have retreated into the mine, we'll need to engage them soon before they can set up further defenses."
"Yes Ma'am, what about him?" The soldier gestured to Kruk
"We'll need to interrogate him, though he may be lacking in the informational department." Winter conceded "However what we gain from any captured Uruks could be used to contest with those inside the-"
Before she could finish the familiar sound of arrows reached her ears "Take Cover!" she immediately yelled to the Atlesians, however the arrows whizzed right past them and instead collided with the ceiling of the mine entrance before exploding. Almost immediately the ceiling caved in and collapsed upon the entrance, packing it with rock and destroyed supports.
The Atlesian soldiers stared for only a moment, waiting to see if any more would follow, Winter turned to trace the trajectory of the arrows only to see the walls of the quarry. Fighting back a scowl Winter turned on Kruk and grabbed the defeated Uruk.
"The archers who assisted you in battle, where are they?!" her patience with those damn arrows had been worn thinner than she anticipated over the course of the battle.
"I...no feel my bones." Kruk muttered before almost immediately losing consciousness.
A strange little thought that came to mind after playing a bit of Shadow of Mordor, battling some of the more interesting Uruks in that Game I wondered what they'd be like in worlds not of their own. Then after watching several episodes of RWBY this idea just started growing from there. Though I have an idea of where I'd like it to go I've strayed away from actually writing on here for quite some time, so I can't exactly vouch for how well my writing style holds up.
This is set between Volume 2 and 3 but closer to 3 in terms of timeline, so for all you RWBY fans who haven't been disarmed yet I'm happy to say knowledge of Volume 3 is extremely recommended but not completely necessary.
I most definitely feel as though I'll need to redo parts of this at a later date, but after struggling to start for nearly a month now I feel that this is the closest to a proper first chapter that seems acceptable. It may or may not take as long to build the next chapter off from here considering I've got a plot already in my head, but I'll see how this is received and work from there.
EDIT: Finally got around to Redoing this chapter, fixing lots of things to make it sound overall better and whatnot. Hopefully its more easier to read and enjoy now. It's surprising how far this idea actually went, but now I'm more motivated than ever to see it through.