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Morrick

Morrick woke early and looked around the unfamiliar landscape. They had camped, despite his warning, precariously close to the edge of the cliff. Fortun­ately nothing had rolled off.

He went over to Sheglock, who was already awake, staring east over the cliff. His brother was a mere yard from the edge.

"Careful," Morrick warned as he approached.

"I'm fine," Sheglock said. "I was just watching the sun come up."

"What do you think?" Morrick asked, indicating the land spread out before them. It looked like the landscape of another world, with mist floating in patches above verdant forests. Rivers ran live silver snakes across the land, flowing from the northern Ered Lithui to the sea of Núrnen, which they could not see from their vantage point. Much of Dorezátz was veiled in the mist.

"It is very different from Gorgoroth, undoubtedly," Sheglock replied, glanc­ing down.

"We don't really have forests at home," Morrick recalled. "It's weird, seeing so many trees all at once. It's hard to imagine such a lush place borders such a desolate plain."

"We are near the tropics, you know. It's just our elevation that prevents things from growing. Southeast of Mordor there are huge forests and jungles, so large that Mirkwood is nothing compared with them."

"I know, but I never thought I'd be seeing one."

"Me neither," his brother said. "I wonder, if a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

Morrick laughed.

"No, seriously, does it?"

"Yes," answered Morrick quickly.

"But someone has to hear it," Sheglock explained.

"Someone does."

"Beside the birds or beasts."

"Yes, Someone still hears it."

"Who?"

"Sauron. He hears all, and all that happens in Mordor is known to Him. Now come, Sheglock, step away from that cliff before a gust of wind throws you off. The others have begun breakfast already, and shall finish without us if we don't hurry."

Sheglock gave his brother a look that showed clearly that he was discontented with the answer, but dropped the topic. Morrick smiled to himself. He had won that debate, for now, at least. Morrick was perpetually amused by Sheglock's ran­dom (but seldom uninteresting) comments.

Firri had just finished breakfast by the time Morrick arrived. Largg was already mounting his warg, but Burk, a voracious eater, was still preoccupied with his food.

Morrick took some meat from the pack, and some bread, and gave some to his brother. "You'll have to eat it as we ride," Firri said when she saw them. "We gotta get started."

Morrick did not like being told what to do, and he was especially irked by Firri's immediate claim to leadership. "Burk's not finished yet," he noticed.

"C'mon, you glutton, finish up!" Firri called in her sharp, commanding voice. Burk regretfully jammed the rest of his bacon in his pockets, and went over to his warg. Morrick glared at Firri, but she did not see, as she was already preparing the wargs to leave. As much as she annoyed him, he had to admit that she was a capable leader, at least in the orginisational realm. How well she could make life-affecting decisions remined to be seen.

"Okay," Firri began, addressing the group, "we're going to make it to the bottom of these cliffs today. I don't expect we'll get any farther. Be very careful, as a fall would certainly be fatal. This road isn't much used, and Dorezátz is a fairly isolated province. Sauron's influence is weaker down there, and it is less lawful. Remember our goal, to find rebels from Alzág, and get them to pay Sauron the money due Him. Now then, let's get going."

They started off at a good speed, following the road parallel to the cliff for a few leagues. But then the road abruptly turned east, and they began to descend. The road became treacherous in many parts, and the wargs began to slip on the rocks that covered the path. After Largg almost was thrown off, Firri called a halt. Already the tops of the cliffs were a good two hundred yards above their heads.

"We shouldn't go on in this manner. Someone will get killed! Dismount, everyone – we'll have to use our legs. Riding is clearly too dangerous."

Great idea, Morrick thought bitterly, but not sarcastically. He was annoyed at himself for not suggesting it sooner.

They dismounted and continued, at a slower pace, down the road. Morrick saw a flat level plateau over the edge of he cliff, about a hundred yards down. The road passed through it, so Morrick assumed that it curved in the distance and returned there. He had heard rumours of the "zigzag path" from Gorgoroth to Dorezátz.

"We can rest when we get down there," he said as they passed, pointing over the edge. The others peered over.

"Fine," Firri said. "We'll rest when we get there."

"Ta the bottom?" Largg asked.

"No, ta that shelf there," Burk pointed, nudging him. Unfortunately, Largg was bent over, peering down over the cliff, and Burk was a strong orc, his playful shove equivalent to a push by anyone else. Largg lost his footing and stumbled, staggering forward. With a yell he fell over the edge and slid roughly down to the shelf, where he lay still, as though dead.

Burk swore. So did Firri.

"Why in Sauron's name would you do a thing like that!" she yelled at him, drawing her sword.

Burk threw his arms into the air. "No! It was an accident, I swear ta ya!"

"By rights you should be tried for murder! And they'd sentence you to death." She was outraged, and, Morrick noted, not thinking logically. "Why don't I save them some trouble!" She advanced, sword pointing to his heart. Burk took a step back, moving even closer to the cliff.

"Guys," Sheglock said quietly. Morrick was the only one who heard him.

"You can't kill me!" Burk yelled. "Sauron won't allow it."

"Guys," Sheglock repeated, looking over the edge. Once again, neither Firri nor Burk heard him.

"What?" Morrick asked.

"He's not dead. He must've dragged himself away, because he's gone."

Morrick peered over, and, sure enough, Largg was gone. He heard Firri threaten Burk, "Didn't I tell you Dorezátz was a lawless land?"

"Did you see him move?" Morrick asked, ignoring for the moment the confrontation behind him.

"No," he replied, "but this place is pretty desolate. Who could've dragged him?"

Morrick shrugged, then went over to the others. "Stop!" he shouted. "STOP!"

Firri turned to him, not lowering her sword. "He's not dead!" Morrick ex­plained.

She lowered her sword and peered over the edge. "He's gone!"

"He must've dragged himself away," she noted, pointuing out a patch of disturbed earth. "He crawled there, toward the cliff wall. He was moving slowly. But then, for some reason, he sped up, near the end, pulling himself quickly right to the edge of the cliff. He must be there, though we can't see him from this angle."

Firri went back to Burk, sheathing her sword. "Fortunately for you, I obey Sauron and His law. I wouldn't have killed you, you know. Just don't ever do that again!"

"Now let's get down there and find Largg!" Morrick yelled. He began running down the path, slipping constantly on the multiple shards of rock. He stumbled, fell, and received a light cut on his arm. He swore, got back up, and continued running.

His progress was inhibited by the unkempt path, and Morrick took a long time to reach the bend in the path. Eventually he saw it ahead, though it appeared to be at least a mile further.

"Jump!" Firri yelled, coming up behind him. "It's not very high!"

Morrick looked over the edge, and, sure enough, the lower shelf was barely four yards away. He slid down the steep incline and landed on the lower path. He turned around and followed Firri, who was now in front of him. Behind him he heard someone, and turning around he saw Burk sprinting up.

In less than ten minutes the three of them arrived at the wide shelf to which Largg had tumbled. Immedi­ately they found where Largg had vanished to. There was a large cave in the side of the cliff, and it appeared too round to be a work of nature, rather a dwelling hewn by some orc in the ancient past. Morrick was almost sure it was deserted, and marched in, squinting through the darkness, looking for his companion.

"Lookin' fer yer friend?" a deep voice asked, startling Morrick, who jumped. In the gloom he saw two shadows moving around. Who or what they were he could not tell.

"Firri pushed her way in past Morrick. "Hello?"

"What brings you two down 'ere?" another voice asked. The second figure stepped forward slightly, but kept tantalisingly out of the sunlight that streamed from the cave's door.

"We are looking for our friend, who fell," Morrick explained. At the same time Firri, in evident frustration, exclaimed, "Show yourselves, will you! Step into the sun!"

"We can't" answered the first voice. Softly he began an almost song-like chant.

We were hewn from the stones

Out of the darkness forlorn

Cold our hearts, yet strong our bones

Lest to stone we shall return

The second voice now joined the chant, which had a sad, funeral-like quality to it.

Fire, light of day so strong

Shield us from thy deadly rays

Our maker we cannot wrong

He outcast us from the days

Now in the darkness we dwell

Sad pariahs from the world

All hate us – their fear we smell!

Alone with our troves of gold…

Slowly Morrick's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. He could see the two shapes, too big to be orcs. Trolls! He realised, surprised he hadn't figured out before. Instantly he was wary, as most trolls were unfriendly and the others vicious.

However, these two seemed to be okay…

"Trolls?" Firri asked accusingly. "How do we know you won't just eat our companion, and us too!"

"My point 'zactly," the first voice said. "There's no trust'n our race. Orcs trust only other orcs, an' naught else."

"I'm Robert," the other said. "And my companion is named Mark. Long ago we met here, and we've lived here ever since."

"Ay, tis a sad tale," Mark said.

A long time back we found this hole –

Firri cut him off. "I've had enough poetry! What've you done with Largg?"

"Well," Mark started, looking insulted, "'E kinda just crawled inta 'ere on 'is own. Ya know, we couldn't really go out inta the sun'n 'elp 'im. We felt real bad when 'e fell, though."

"Where is he," Morrick asked. Robert pointed to the corner, where a dark shape was lying on the ground.

Burk rushed over to him. "Sorry, buddy! I'm real sorry, fellow!"

"'E's not gonna 'ear ya," Mark said.

"Yeah," Robert added, "'e passed out 'bout 'alf an hour ago, right after 'e crawled into the cave."

Firri sighed. "Now what?" she asked no one in particular.

"Ya can stay with us fer a while," Mark offered. "Till yer friend 'eals."

"Well, we have no other choice," she said dismayed, clearly not excited by the prospect of spending any more time than she needed to with the trolls. "Good, everyone's here, so I guess we'll be staying here until—"

Morrick cut her off. He had just realised that Sheglock was missing. How could he have not noticed before? "Where's my brother!" he yelled fretfully.

Firri looked around the cave. "No idea," she replied, puzzled. "Didn't he follow us?"

"Now that you mention it, I don't think he did," Morrick replied. "But I'm still worried!"

"'E'll be fine," Robert assured him. "There's nothing on these cliffs that could 'urt 'im."

"Well, we'll just wait," Firri told him. "If he hasn't arrived by sunset we can go looking."

"We can rest and eat here," Burk suggested.

"No, we left all our supplies up at the top of that cliff!"

Burk groaned audibly.

"Ya guys can have somma our food," Mark offered. "It's all birds, mainly. We 'unt at night, but nothin' much comes 'ere. An' it's agains' our moral code ta eat orcs."

"You have a moral code," Firri repeated, laughing.

"Of course we do! Just because we're trolls don't mean were savages! Mark, tell 'em all about our moral code."

Mark began another one of his songs:

Back in the far-off past there were no laws

And Man and Orc and Troll were all the same,

"Shut up," Firri muttered. Mark heard her and stopped chanting.

"Art is never appreciated," Robert said sadly, patting his friend on the back. Mark nodded gloomily.

"'E wrote those verses 'imself," Robert told Firri. "I'm not gonna ask you to be polite, as, according to Mark, 'We learned that we should not force our bel­iefs/On others, lest at heart they disagree.' So I'm not gonna ask you to be pol­ite, or to appreciate 'is art."

"Well that's good, cause I don't appreciate art of any form." Firri said, clearly not falling into the guilt trap. Morrick was surprised at her impudence.

"What's wrong with art?" Robert asked. "Art is one of the greatest virtues!"

"It's impractical," Firri said. Morrick inwardly approved, though said no­thing, as he didn't want to rile the trolls.

"It appeals to something higher," Robert said. "Art isn't made to be prac­tical, though it certainly can be. For instance, all soldiers of Mordor paint their 'elmets with the red Eye."

"Tha's not real art," Mark said sadly. "Art 'as ta be made ta please, and those Eyes definitely ain't."

Back in the day my old grandpa asked me

"Mark, my boy, what do you plan to do

When you go off to explore and be free?"

And I replied that I had not a clue.

Firri grimaced but said nothing. However, Mark saw the grimace and stopped speaking.

"Art is good when it tells a story," Morrick said, chiefly out of pity for the trolls. He was not a fan of art. But Firri was being exceptionally rude.

"I was explainin' how I became a poet," Mark told him quietly. Firri gave him a contemptuous glance.

She started walking toward the cave's exit. "Well, we'll be staying the night here, if you don't mind, but I need some fresh air. I'll come back in the evening."

As she left, Morrick shrugged in the direction of the two trolls. That was his way of saying "sorry". Then, also desiring a break from the stale air and the pervading troll-odour, he followed Firri outside.