Akba sat and watched a spur pop from the flaming torch. His room in Minas Morgul was no more than six feet by six feet. It's stone walls allowed shadows to flicker over them from the burning lights. Gakemar should have been here by now, What was taking him so long. Perhaps he had been caught in some other plot. He never fully trusted other orcs although he was half-orc himself.

There was a knock on the door, standing up and stretching he moved to open it already knowing who it was from the smell. "Gakemar, you're late." Gakemar closed the door. "Are you alone Akba? if not...I don't mean to intrude." Akba rolled his eyes at him. "Alone? Am I ever alone? Can Saurman's birds not report what they see and hear? Hell I wouldn't be surprised if the lice in your hair reported to a lord of their own." With that he chuckled a little.

He motioned for Gakemar to sit down and poured him some grog from the pitcher on the table. "So what news have you? I have waited long enough." He poured himself some Grog as well. "The battle for Minas tirith is lost. Angmar's army is retreating back to here. He wants to fortify Minas Morgul. Sauron is angry and no doubt the Witchking is going to take some heat. In the meantime Sauron is preparing for a war of attrition." Akba's eyebrows shot up. "And Gothmog?" "Dead. He didn't last the night soon after Angmar ordered the retreat." Akba howled in delight. He wanted Gothmog's position, in fact he wanted Angmar's position as well. That is what this whole thing was about after all. Striking him down and claiming Minas Morgul as his own.

"And the others?" Akba looked at him sternly. "They are ready. if you want to strike now, Akba, now is the time." "No, I will wait a little while longer. We will see if the Dreadlords will promote me to replace Gothmog's station. If not then we will strike sooner rather than later." He stood up after he was finished talking. "Now if you don't mind Gakemar I have some other business to attend too." Gakemar smirked at him and uttered a single word. "Maglob."

Maglob waited for her assigned mate's return. She didn't mind being forced into a relationship with Akba, her last mate was terrible, but this one treated her with...a little more respect. Besides he had high status among the orcs and the Dreadlords. Which meant a bigger living space for the two of them.

She looked out the window into the streets of Minas Morgul. Even though it was night she could see him walking toward the door. She made her way there herself when it flung open. He pushed past her and walked to the table. "My love" She called after him. "There is a package for you, one of the Witchking's couriers delivered it. "From the King?" He eyed it curiously then opened it on the table, it was a small box containing three parchment scrolls. Grabbing one he started reading.

Maglob stared at him with wonder. "Did Gakemar bring any news of the front?" He sighed and put the scroll down on the table, pulling out a chair and sat in it. "He did. He says our armies are retreating and Gothmog is dead. And this parchment? It's my new orders from our Master, he has summoned me to a meeting of the Dreadlords regarding my station in the master's army." He grinned up at her. "Oh Akba! This is what you have been waiting for!" She jumped on his lap, straddling him and kissed him lightly.