The night was dark. Cold. Wet. Rain seemed to seep through the very rock itself, down into the brown murkiness that covered the stone floor below. Not even the fires could breach this shroud of shadow, and uncertainty lingered in the air.
Uncertainty of the Gravewalker.
Talion stalked the walls of the stronghold. The walls were in need of dire repair. The stone was rampant with damp, huge holes rested in some of their sides and entire sections weren't even there. He didn't need good cover, though. The Orcs were stupid, and that was their misfortune. The black hair clung to his face, and his tattered blue cloak blew in the wind behind him. His eyes were that of an eagle, pinpointed on their target. Bazgrak the Wretched stood engulfed by bodyguards, each uglier than the last. He waited for the appropriate time to strike. The Captain started walking, ducking in and out of other guards as he made his way towards the fort entrance. The ranger noticed the creature's eyes betraying his stride; they darted about, searching and probing each area of land and every building. There was no denying it. He was expecting an attack. He was scared.
And no amount of Orcs or spears could save him from death.
The minutes ticked by fast, each blending into the other. Soon Talion would miss his chance, and the captain would be free, through the Black Gate and out of Mordor for good. Each second his guards grew more prepared and the grips on their crude blades tightened. Soon it would be too late.
"He is nearly free from our grasp. Take him." The ghostly voice filled the air around him, and that's when Talion chose to strike.
All at once, in one quick, fluid movement, he stood up from the small perch he was on, and jumped from it's clutches. The air rushed past him all at once, and then he found himself on the belly of the captain. Bazgrak's face only stared at him, his eyes wide with terror. He was expecting it, and Talion brought out his dagger, raising it high above his head.
At the peak of his arc, however, another Orc tore the weapon from his hands, and as Talion looked round, a berserker grinned at him. Eagerly, he smacked the Ranger to the side. Talion rolled onto his back, winded, his vision hazy. He rolled left just in time to see the captain running away from him. It was too late. He was too weak. He had missed his chance.
"You must not lose him."
With all his strength, Talion stood up, and brought out his sword, Urfael. The berserker ran at him, but Talion only knocked him aside, dodged his attack, and plunged the glowing blade into it's body. The Orc let out one gargling scream, and then fell to the ground, green blood already pooling around its lifeless corpse. Talion proceeded to run towards Bazgrak, who by now was far from the stronghold, visible only on the horizon. But the captain's forces were still here, blocking the Ranger's way. As he looked around, struggling to find something of use, he spotted a large slab of rotting meat next to one of the buildings. Talion took in a deep breath and let his other side out. The wraith pulsated with blue light, and quickly charged up an arrow, which exploded into the side of the meat, setting it aflame at once. The fire surprised the Orcs, but only for a moment.
"You'll have to try harder than that, Tark!", one of them laughed. But Talion was only waiting.
Just at once, a mighty beast appeared from nowhere, pouncing on one of them before it could speak. The creature had thick plates of natural armour running down it's back, and it's eyes were black-slitted orbs, bathed in red pools. The Caragor jumped on another, snapping it in half with an audible snap, and soon there were no standing in Talion's way. The beast, however, wasn't finished, and spotted the Ranger instantly. It raised it's sinewy legs, and Talion sensed it's strike.
As the Caragor jumped high into the air, Talion ducked under it, and, as it landed, he spun round, mounting the beast in a second. He was thrust around as it tried to shake him off, but soon Talion had a firm grip on it's head. He pushed it in deeper, and suddenly it too pulsated with a blue glow. It's eyes exploded with a teal aura, and soon it stopped struggling. Talion took a deep breath, and turned his beast towards the horizon. With no hesitation, he set to work, and soon the beast was running faster than any human…. And any orc.
Bazgrak was far away, there was no doubt, but Talion was fast, and the Caragor could sense an orc a mile away. Then again, so could most. The Ranger spotted him, a small, fat figure trying to hide between two large boulders to his left. Talion turned the beast and started for the captain. He heard the orc shriek, trying again so desperately to hide, but there was no use. In the blink of an eye, Bazgrak was beneath the beast, it's jaws already snapping around his neck. Only at Talion's command did they stop, and the only wound on the captain were two faint puncture marks embedded in the neck. Trickles of blood came out, and this excited the creature more.
"Steady!" Talion muttered, before crouching down beside the Orc captain, who was flailing wildly, trying everything he could to stop his inevitable demise.
"Please! Stop, I can give you what you want? You want an Orc on the inside, right? Please, I can bend them to your will. The stupid ones, I mean. Please!"
"Silence!" Celebrimbor roared, in that ghostly tone, and at the sight of the Wraith, Bazgrak practically soiled his own armour. He thrashed about more, screaming and yelping. In that moment he was no Orc. He was a mouse.
Talion then leaned in and held Acharn to the creature's throat, keeping his neck in place and his eyes firmly on the Ranger. Hurriedly, he spoke, "Where can I find The Shadow?"
"What… who's, I don't know what you mean." Bazgrak said, in an odd tone, one of deep thought, and then Talion brought the blade in closer. The fine steel made a small incision in the Orc's green skin, and again, more blood trickled out. The Caragor meanwhile, even under the Wraith's brand, tried to stop itself from killing the thing right there and then.
"Tell me!" The Wraith's hand wrapped around Bazgrak's cheek, and it left a bright, glowing blue handprint behind. Suddenly, Bazgrak's eyes became blue, and more terrified, if it were at all possible. Quickly, he spoke,
"M… Ma…. Mazgrash….. Mazgrash the Treacherous. He… he's a warchief. Works out near the Ash Mountains. There… There's been talk. He knows the Shadow. I swear. Now please, let me go!"
Talion and Celebrimbor paused a moment, before the former stood up again, sheathing his dagger behind his back, "As you wish." He began to walk away from the Orc who was now still on the ground, before turning once more, "He's all yours."
The last thing Talion heard that fateful night were the screams of the Orc captain being slowly torn apart… and he relished every one.