Chapter 5

Though Globuk liked to think of himself as an up-and-coming warlord, one whose genius would finally allow the Dark One to gain the upper hand against their enemies, he was, in fact, a stupid loudmouth.

Pushdug rolled his eyes as Globuk complained about the captain getting the best of him, that he would have been able to kill him had it not been for the slippery terrain underfoot. Pushdug didn't even remember seeing Globuk attack the captain when the mutinous brawl in their company began. Most likely some brute got the best of him and he had turned tail and ran like the rest of them.

He remembered sitting by a fire with the other spindly orcs relegated as cooks, healers, and smiths when he heard the roar of an attacking uruk. Pushdug looked up to see the captain narrowly avoid getting his head cleaved in two by an axe when the rest of the company jumped up to join in the fight.

Torn limbs, blood, and intestines went flying over their heads before Pushdug and the other smaller orcs fled into the forest. Runts like them often didn't survive such free for all slaughter, but now they would be unable to return to their company. Had they gone back after the slaughter stopped, they would have been labeled as cowards and executed.

Personally, Pushdug thought that it wasn't the aspect of cowardice they hated, they just used it as an excuse to kill something. Not that Pushdug could blame them, he felt the need to extinguish any and all life as much as the next orc. However, he had never felt it so much as he did then, having to listen to Globuk's incessant babble.

He gripped his scimitar as their group of a dozen orcs traversed through the forest, carefully assessing the hulking Globuk as he licked his wounds. Though he was taller and stronger, he seemed completely at ease amongst them. Perhaps he thought they were no threat to him, since he was the only warrior bred orc in the group.

"Would have had 'im I would, he was down on the ground, sniveling like the snaga he was, then I got this crick in me shoulder," Globuk said, but the last bit of the story Pushdug tuned out.

He looked over at Ashuruk, a squat, clanking cook who returned his incensed glare. Pushdug could see he was fingering the large butcher's knife on his waist, clearly having the same thoughts as he. They both returned their gaze to the babbling Globuk, who led their little group deeper into the forest.

"Say, Globuk, where are we going?" Ashuruk said, his beady, unblinking eyes never leaving the orc's back.

"To find something to kill, dolt," Globuk replied. "I've been itching to sink my knife into something, and I don't care what it is!"

"Stick it in yourself then," Pushdug mumbled as his clawed hand unsnapped the scimitar from his waist. Ashuruk also quietly drew his weapon.

"Wait, you hear that?" Globuk suddenly halted, looking around the forest.

Pushdug, Ashuruk, and the rest of the group stopped and listened. Their oily, pointed ears strained in the darkness, and they observed nothing but green foliage and blooming flowers around them. Pushdug listened for the sounds of approaching footsteps or horse hooves, for he knew both men and Elves lived at the base of the Misty Mountains.

"I don't hear nothing but birds," Ashuruk stated, his knife still clenched tight in his hand. "And what sounds like water."

"We ain't heard birds for weeks!" Globuk said, and Pushdug had to admit the big orc was right. Since Eregion and the surrounding areas were laid waste to years ago, there hadn't been many birds or fauna at all in the woods. "Where in the blazes are we?"

Pushdug and Ashuruk groaned as Globuk marched forward with a determined expression on his ugly face. He drew his senselessly large cleaver and searched the surrounding area, swiping at overgrown foliage and anything green that was in his path. The group followed him much more cautiously, huddled together like a pack of rats.

The smaller orcs looked to each other, unsure if they should attack Globuk now since his attention was clearly focused on their surroundings. However, they both had the feeling they had strayed far from their intended course, and the woods were likely filled with enemies. If they killed Globuk now, they wouldn't have a capable fighter amongst them. Stupid or not.

"There, hear that?" Globuk said, his ears perking up. "Sounds like, sounds like—"

Pushdug and Ashuruk heard it too. It was the sound of twinkling bells and the strumming of harp strings. The orcs cringed and shuddered in disgust, but Globuk started forwards, slashing at the wall of foliage before him.

When the last of the leaves fell away Globuk stopped. His mouth fell open, and his grip on the cleaver slackened as moonlight poured through the hole he made. The smaller orcs shuffled forward and peered around him, and their mouths fell open at the sight before them.

Gleaming in the starlight and moonlight, the hidden valley of Imladris lay before them. Somehow, someway, they had found the hidden sanctuary of the Elves that the Dark One had been searching for.

The greasy black hairs on the back of Pushdug's neck stood on end as he and the other orcs suddenly drew back. Globuk alone remained standing, silently observing the view before him. He eventually took a step back, then another, and finally turned to stare at the pack of little orcs.

He drew himself to his full height, puffed out his chest, and stared down his nose at them. Pushdug thought for a moment that he was about to make some bold plan about scouting the terrain and delivering the news to the Dark One. Surely there would have been a great reward for the ones who were able to reveal the location of Imladris.

"Whelp lads, we are officially dead."

Pushdug and Ashuruk glanced at each other, but when they looked back, Globuk was gone. The swaying branches of trees revealed his escape path, and the little orcs couldn't help but follow him. For once, Pushdug thought Globuk made a smart move.