Uzgeg
The heat on his back burned, his mouth dripped with the blood of a midday hunt. One more day. He thought. The sweetness of rabbit flesh melted in his mouth. Their march had been long and gruesome, he could not wait to send his thick broadsword through the soft skin of men.
"Uzgeg." The commander called for him, he swallowed hard the last unchewed bits of his potential last meal and walked from the fire.
I came from mud and soil. I am the slime of the earth. I am the Uruk-hai, I am feared. Uzgeg felt his jaw tense as he walked closer to the tallest of them all, his face was wet from the sweat of the journey while his eyes were hard from the anger of war.
"You'll be on the ladder." Ghirdush's throaty voice shouted at him. Yes. He did not fear the height of the ladder nor the fall from the top of the wall. He wanted this.
"The closer to man flesh, the better I'll die." Uzgeg said with a roar.
The horn blew and he pulled his broadsword around his back. Legs aching, back stinging, and a never-ending hunger gnawed inside him. Soon it will be over. He knew, and it would be a glorious day. Today they would arrive in Helms Deep.
The wall was larger than they'd been warned. With 10,000 brothers beside him, he did not fear whatever awaited him. His hunger was gnawing at him further, like a hole was burning into his stomach. Hunger never ceased, he could eat his fill of rabbit and horse but even after his throat was full it would still sting for more. Just like his thrill of war. He remembers the warmth of the roots the day he broke from the ground. His earthen brothers around him shouted their cries as he made his appearance onto the grounds of Mordor. A home he never planned to see again. They were marching slower now, with each step the burning sun eased off their backs and hid behind the mountain. They would fight in the prime of the day, they would fight in the night. Something pulled at his gut as he saw unfamiliar forms appear on the walls of Rohan. No. For the first time in his Middle-Earth life he'd felt the pain of fear inside him. Elves.
"You said it was just men!" A brother shouted to Ghirdush.
"I said it was a war!" Ghirdush screamed at them and unsheathed his dull broadsword.
There was a chill in the air with the thick rain as they approached the wall, he felt it flow through the thin armor he wore across his chest. I do not need this. He knew it would only slow him down. His skin was thick like that of an Oliphant, he had no need for this iron casing pressed tightly against his body. The war horn sounded again and they stopped in their tracks. His thirst for blood grew as the faces became clear on the wall. Boys, old men, not even warriors fight us. They will not live out the night. Uzgeg tried to hide the laughter growing in his throat. His only worry was of the undying inside the golden armor. He'd heard the stories in Mordor of their skill with a bow. The reflection of their helms shined in the firelight, it sent a shiver through his spine. He gripped at his broadsword tightly, the anticipation of riding the ladder up the wall was almost unbearable. They began their chant. He slapped his sword against his chest, he bore no shield to carry. He did not need it. Uzgeg grew in confidence as the faces of the children on the wall turned white with fear. Suddenly everything turned still. The first death had arrived and now the war had begun. Arrows flew, swords clashed, and Ghirdush was charging over towards the ladders, preparing them for advancement.
"Take out the Elves. Bring them down first." He felt the warm spit of Ghirdush flow from his mouth as he stuttered the words.
Uzgeg nodded and gripped the lumber ladder hard. Within moments he was climbing in the air. He was above the wall now, he could see there were not enough men for each Uruk-hai to have a kill. Then I will take them all. The sound of the metal latches clinking against the wall awakened his wits and sent him flying into a mixture of flesh and golden armor. The first swing of his sword flew down to the thin flesh of a man. His eyes still lingered open as he pulled the dull end from the dead man's chest. The warm blood dripped from the knife and he thirsted for more. His vision clouded and each swing was like a blur of rage and bliss. The sound of sword hitting bone made his blood curdle. That was when he saw him. A golden armored man with hair as white as the acidic sun. He is mine. Both men and Uruk-hai stood between him and the fearsome elf, Uzgeg swung his sword around wildly, knocking both brother and foe out of his way. The grunts of pain could be heard on either side but he was far too focused on the white-haired enemy. This rival would be his to kill, and it would be his strongest victory yet. He was finally within reach of the white-hair and swung his sword to end the reign of elvish life. Metal on metal sounded and Uzgeg's eyes widened in surprise. The elf turned to face him, his stare was threatening.
"Cin will bel-" The white-hair spoke.
He had heard of the power of Elvish words, he was not going to be pulled by a wicked spell to his death. He pulled his sword from the elf's and swung low to the white-hairs feet. Only to be met once again by his foes sword. The rage inside Uzgeg began to grow, an uncontrollable urge to swing with fire and fury.
"Haldir!" A voice shouted from the distance, the man with the white-hair looked away from Uzgeg.
This gave Uzgeg the opportunity. He pulled his sword from the elf's and pulled back. His hands gripping tightly around the hilt. One swing. He pulled his arms back above his head, the white-haired elf turned to see he had no chance left. Uzgeg had won, all he had to do was pull down and end the immortal monster for good. He let out a grin of victory, until he tried to swing down. For a moment, his arms were locked into position above him. He could not move, he could not fight, he could not breath. His stomach burned like acid and hunger more than it ever had before. That was when he looked down to see the white-tailed arrow sticking from his stomach. His body began scorching from the inside out. His blood blazing with the elven arrow deep within him. The force of the pain pulled him down to the ground, he felt the world fall around him. He looked up to see the birthplace of the arrow, instead he found yet another white-haired elf with the eyes of the sky and the quickness of a viper. The cold ground found him, and the rain trickled across his cheek where tears might have fallen if he were born of human and flesh. Instead he felt the aching of hunger begin to subside, and the sounds of clinking swords die around him.