Two chapters in one night! XD Sorry for the shortness though, I'm planning on creating cliff-hangers to keep you... well... Hanging. Review if you think this is a very bad idea.
A large pack of orcs crept on in the night, their log canoes ugly and crude. They had worked restlessly, night and day with no rests. The taste of dwarf blood was on their tongues, and they could smell the young ones pain and misery across the lake.
Bolg sniffed the air, and twisted his face into what appeared to be a smile. He would taste dwarf blood, and he would not fail his task. A paddle slapped the water, and Bolg whipped his head around, spitting at the filth who had made the error. His size had gained him power in the ranks, and he had killed many orcs and dwarves alike. No one could stop him.
''Bolg.'' A scrawny orc hissed, rowiung his mangy boat beside him. ''Two elves are on our trail. We should spit up the pack.''
Bolg's warg snapped at the orc hungrily, its presence a show of his authority. Wargs hated water, and Bolg hated walking more. ''No. Two elf-scum mean nothing. We hunt Oakenshield together.'' The orc drifted behind, and Bolg expertly guided his craft around some ice. He was far more experienced at dwarf killing than Azog. He would not fail his thurst for revenge.