Ch. 2: I'm a Klingon, not an Orc!
Worf awoke slowly. He lay in
a small clearing near the edge of a forest. As he came to, he
remembered the transporter accident. He didn't know where he
was, but he was relatively unhurt. His bat'leth lay a few
feet away at the base of the tallest tree Worf had ever seen.
Rising to his feet, he retrieved the weapon and put it back in
the sling on his back. From his vantage point atop a small hill,
he could see a dirt road perhaps ten meters away. Hearing voices
just out of his field of vision, Worf and silently removed his
bat'leth from its sling and hid in the undergrowth. He crept
toward the sound, and finally glimpsed the source of the voices.
A group of various creatures
camped just off the road. One appeared to be a Vulcan woman,
another Human, and four were of a species Worf had never seen.
They looked to him much like Human children, but their faces were
clearly adult. A pony was tethered nearby, and the Vulcan woman
held the reins of a white horse. Worf moved a little closer in
order to hear their conversation. To Worf's surprise and
relief, they were speaking Human Standard. Although he was too
far away to hear the entire conversation, he caught enough to
realize they were worried about something called Nazgûl and
wondered if one of the little ones, called Frodo could ride the
horse should the need arise. The Vulcan volunteered to take him
if the Human could hold off the danger. The Human grimly agreed
to this, but his doubts were obvious.
The Vulcan's expression
changed suddenly. She had heard something unnoticed to the
others. She spoke quickly to the Man in a language Worf
didn't understand, then mounted her horse. The Man lifted
one of the little ones onto the horse in front of her and they
rode off as quickly as the animal would carry them. The others
were running after her – or was it away from something
behind them? Glancing back, Worf saw what they had feared.
There were five humanoid creatures in black capes, each riding a
horse, uttering screams that were definitely not human. Worf
could not see their flesh. Each held a sword. These were truly
evil creatures; of that he had no doubt. They seemed to ooze evil
just by their presence.
Any prior hesitation to become
involved in the affairs of these primitive creatures disappeared
as he watched one of the little ones stumble to the ground. The
black creatures would trample him and the man could not turn in
time to help. Worf exploded from the forest with a battle cry,
swept his bat'leth across the lead horse's front legs,
and grabbled the fallen creature. The horse reared before the
weapon could connect, but the delay was enough. He took off
toward the others at a full run, grabbing another of the little
ones who had fallen behind. The Man jumped from the path into
heavy undergrowth and Worf followed his lead. To his utter shock
the black horsemen simply rode past them.
Putting the little ones on
their feet, he turned to face the Man and was shocked to see him
draw his sword. Worf readied his bat'leth faster than the
Man had thought possible, judging from his expression.
"Coward," Worf spat. "You draw a weapon on one who
has just saved your companions?"
"What are you? You appear to be
an Orc, but your actions speak otherwise." They eyed
each other warily.
"I have never heard of
Orcs. I am Worf, son of Mogh. I am Klingon." These
were primitives, he reminded himself, and they had probably never
seen an extra-terrestrial. Their confusion was natural. This
thought alone quieted his anger.
The Man lowered his sword.
"Well, Worf, it would seem I have little choice but to trust
you. I thank you for your aid. I am called Strider" Worf
sheathed his bat'leth. The others, the human said, were
Hobbits, named Sam, Merry and Pippin. The Hobbits didn't
appear to entirely trust the human, especially the one called
Sam. Frodo had gone ahead with the Elf Arwen. When questioned
about his presence in this strange place, Worf simply told them
he didn't understand how he had gotten there. At this,
Aragorn suggested he accompany them to a place called Rivendell,
and Worf agreed.